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#she literally believes that locking doors is bad and shes always up in everybodys business
xxcherrycherixx · 7 months
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Me writing my heartlockes smut: Hmm how am i going to make blondie a sexual deviant this time maybe i can-
Also me already knowing what im going to end up writing: Shes gonna fuck in public, she always fucks in public. We do this every single fucking time- IT NEVER CHANGES
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badjoices · 3 years
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My Life With You
I. Move-in Day Dean and Cas move into a new home and start to build a life together with baby Jack.
[Read on AO3] | [Fic Masterpost]
The sun was sitting high in the sky, creeping towards the apex of its arc, when the U-Haul pulled up outside the modest two-storey on a quiet, tree-lined residential street. The crisp spring air was warm, moving through the green leaves and blush blossom with a quiet rustle. The sound of the late Sunday morning was largely void; defined by its absences more than anything; no children playing or parents chit-chatting over their hedges just yet, as most in the neighbourhood were making the most of the last lie-in of the week.
Except for Dean Winchester, and his better half Castiel, who had been up since the sun first began to peek over the horizon, packing, stacking and taping boxes in the bunker. Several chaotic and disorganised hours later, all was packed and prepped, and here they were; home. They’d seen it before of course, but this was the first time seeing that house become their home.
“I can’t believe it,” Dean said, after silencing the rumbling engine. “My own white picket-fence.”
Cas, unsurprisingly unsentimental about fencing retorted with confusion. “The fence isn’t white.”
Dean rolled his eyes, lovingly, and made to get out of the truck without a response.
“We could paint it white, if you’d like?” Cas continued, once he too had disembarked, and had met Dean on the pavement side.
“No, man, I like it as is.”
The two walked up their front path - theirs - their steps springy with giddiness as they approached the front door. Pulling a pristine silver key from his jacket pocket, with a turn and click, Dean swung open the door to their new life. The pair stood on the front porch for a moment, not quite believing that this door was for them.
“Should I carry you over the threshold?” Dean joked, leaning over to Cas, face plastered with a grin.
Cas looked to his side and met Dean’s gaze, holding for a moment before-
“I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Cas took the first step and walked into the entranceway. Dean quickly followed behind. The house was dark, with all the blinds left closed, the only light now streaming in through the open door, silhouetting Dean and Castiel in the narrow doorframe. Cas stood there, studying the blank walls, mentally populating them with where he envisioned they would put up photos of their family, past, present and future. Something about those blank white walls, the canvas for him to paint a picture of the life he had chosen, caught the angel off guard as he became overwhelmed with joy. The moment was only sweetened when Dean, who was having equally soppy thoughts about the prospect of a coat rack - a real place to hang his hat - intertwined his fingers in Castiel’s. Neither said a word for a good minute or two, not wanting the moment of pure indulgent fantasy to end - they were so unused to complete unapologetic wanting that it was so nice to bask in it even for a minute.
“We need to start unpacking at some point.” Dean broke the silence.
“Yes, Sam’s bringing Jack by tomorrow morning,” Cas agreed. “We need to have his room ready by tonight at the very least.”
Despite their agreement, they were still glued to the spot, hands still locked together.
“You gotta let go, Cas.”
“You first.”
The two began to stare at each other in a mix between a loving gaze and a challenge. Cas intensified his gaze.
“Same time.” he said.
Dean nodded, eyes never drifting from Cas’s. They each pulled their hand away at the same time, eyes still locked, and broke into a soft laughter.
“You let go a little earlier than me.” Dean teased.
“Actually, you started to pull your hand away six milliseconds before I did.” Cas retorted playfully.
Dean started back out towards the U-Haul with Cas in tow, turning his head back as he walked to reply;
“You can’t prove that.”
Dean opened up the back and the pair were reminded of the magnitude of the task ahead of them.
“Well,” Dean said, nodding his head slowly in a pre-emptive defeat. “Where do we start?”
Cas stepped up and made for a stack of two boxes. “I can take all the heavy ones.” he said, lifting the boxes with ease.
Angelic strength or not, Dean felt compelled to protest. “I can carry the heavy ones too.”
“There’s no need, Dean. It’ll be faster if I do it.” Cas replied, his voice earnest as he offered his help as always.
Dean scrunched up his face in a faux irritation. Of course, Cas was probably right, and even still, Dean wasn’t one to complain about having a literal angel do the heavy lifting for him. Dean opted for a double-box stack too, but ones marked ‘clothes’; an acceptable compromise for him.
Box after box, Dean and Castiel ferried their life from its transit state into its permanent home. With only one box left, Cas began to unpack and sort their contents on the empty living room floor, while Dean went to fetch the last box. The sun now sat directly overhead. This, paired with the strenuous back-and-forth, had lead Dean to ditching his flannel over-layer a while ago.
“Oh, hello!”
A cheery female voice chirped from behind Dean as he began to close up the U-Haul. Dean turned and was greeted by the broad smile of a mid-thirties woman in yoga pants. Welcome to suburbia, huh.
“You must be my new neighbour!” she continued.
“Uh, yeah, hey,” Dean said, holding his hand over his eyes to shield them from the piercing sunlight. “I’m Dean. You live next-door?”
“Carol,” she replied. “And yes, I’m your right-side neighbour!”
“Awesome.” Dean nodded. Despite typically being effortlessly charismatic, Dean definitely felt out of his depth; he was simply not accustomed to the rules and decorum required in scenarios like these.
“You know if I’d known you were moving in today, I’d have made a casserole,” Carol began to ramble. “Do you like casserole? Oh, everybody likes casserole. In the next few days, you’d better expect a casserole.”
“Sure, I love casserole.” Dean shrugged, humoured somewhat by this strange, incredibly enthusiastic woman.
“Great,” Carol sighed, face still plastered with a big grin. “I hope your wife won’t mind.” Carol gestured to Dean’s wedding ring.
Dean licked his lips and started rolling his wedding band around his finger as he was put in the not unusual bet never pleasant situation of having to correct someone to explain himself.
“Husband actually,” he corrected. “And uh, he won’t mind; I do most of the cooking anyway.”
Carol clapped her hands over her mouth in a melodramatic gasp. “Oh! A husband of course! My bad! How long have you been married?” Carol said, frantically attempting to recover from her faux-pas.
“‘Bout three months.” Dean answered.
“Oh! Newlyweds!” Carol cooed, already seeming to have completely recovered from her earlier embarrassment. “Any kids?”
“Just one, he’s four.” Dean grinned proudly, his earlier reservations melting away as the joy he felt at the opportunity to talk about his family took over. “My brother’s bringing him over tomorrow once we’ve settled in.”
“Aw! So cute! So you’ve been together a while then?”
“Six months.” Dean replied honestly without thinking.
Carol paused, unable to hide her confusion as the cogs in her brain connected dots in ways her traditionally-wired brain couldn’t comprehend.
“Wow,” Carol laughed awkwardly. “You got married after three months; that’s so fast!”
There was another pause. Just then, Cas emerged from the still open front door and strolled over.
“Dean, I was wondering where you’d got to.”
“Hey Cas, come here I’m meeting the neighbours,” Dean beckoned Cas closer and placed an arm around his waist. “This is Carol from next-door.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Castiel.” Cas said, plain and business-like.
“Wait, but your son’s four?” she continued to work through her thoughts aloud. “Oh, is he from a previous relationship, or?”
“Jack?” Cas answered, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation. “No, we adopted him.”
“Before you were a couple?”
Dean figured now was the time for a little lie of convenience, undoubtedly the first of many.
“He’s the kid of a friend of ours,” Dean half-lied. “She died when he was born so we took him in; me, Cas and my brother.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about your friend,” Carol said, her confusion fading. “But that’s so sweet. Well, I won’t keep you, I’m sure you’ve got tonnes of unpacking to do!”
“Yeah, well, great to meet you Carol, see you around.” Dean said with a smile.
“You sure will, with casserole!” Carol assured before she headed off along the street.
Dean’s smile lingered as he stood there, outside the house he shared with the love of his life, who was right there pressed to his side. He let the noon sun shine down on his face and the gentle breeze flush over him.
“Dean,” Cas spoke, tentative to break Dean’s moment of euphoria. “I came out here to tell you that we left all the crockery and kitchenware at the bunker.”
“Shit.”
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knjoodles · 4 years
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incomparable | taehyung x reader
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pairing: taehyung x reader
genre: angst, fluff
word count: 4.9K
warnings: supposed cheating, struggle with body image, low confidence. (i have struggled with all of these things myself)
summary: with taehyung’s busy schedule, you often wonder why it seems he wants to be everywhere but by your side.
lowercase intended
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   you loved taehyung.
  no, you love taehyung. the love you and taehyung shared was something that you’d never experienced before. something unique, something different.
  it had all started when the two of you were in high school, being forced to talk to each other as you were paired together for a social studies project. you were a quiet, reserved student, one who had at most three friends and wasn’t looking to make more. once a social butterfly, the endless bullying you’d suffered in your early teen years, being completely excluded from your entire grade, made you cling to those who didn’t succumb to the rumors. to this day, you weren’t quite sure why you were targeted. what you were sure about, though, was the bitterness of the people who hurt you, who went as far as to blackmail old friends to end their friendship with you. you learned to trust few, but cherish them the most. your warm and welcoming personality turned cold to those you didn’t know, not fully letting them in until the still scarred, younger version of you was assured they wouldn’t betray you. you didn’t lose the happy-go-lucky (y/n) you always were, she’s just hidden away. like an exclusive, vip perk for those you’d trust with your life.
  taehyung was like you, minus the traumatizing bullying. he was full of energy, a ball of sunshine who would never be seen with anything less than a smile. both of your respective friends found it amusing how such different people just happened to be paired together, and you were left as dumbfounded as the rest. it’s not that you found taehyung annoying, no. he was just very loud.
  it started with the two of you working at the library, taehyung lugging a large board across the isles to a large community table. he waved at you giddily, trifold board bouncing against the library’s carpeting as he dashed towards you, footsteps loudly hitting the floor. waddling towards you, panting lightly, he greeted you, slumping in the seat in front of you. you were annoyed. you couldn’t believe this was what you had to work with.
  the project? report on a european country and its state in the 18th century. before you could even finish your question on what he wanted to report on, taehyung slammed his large hands onto the hardwood table, exclaiming that he wanted to do portugal. with his excited form dangerously rocking back and forth on his chair, the two of you began work, reporting on 18th-century portugal.
  by the second or third time you’d met up, he wasn’t that bad anymore. the two of you had conjured a few inside jokes and you looked forward to your meetings with him, as it had become a practice for the two of you to talk about what struggles plagued your teenage lives while your parents rang your phones, trying to figure out where the hell you where and why you weren’t home by now. it was funny to you and taehyung. things were good.
  fast forward to senior year, where taehyung had been usurped into your friend group, all five of you marching off to places where you shouldn’t be at ungodly hours. that was the dream of being eighteen yet still a child, the amount much freedom that you could savor, but only for a short time. as your friends all sat on the roof of your high school at midnight, you remember glancing at taehyung, wrapped in his jacket underneath your shawl due to the cold weather. he was different from when you’d first met him; his face was maturing, and he had a handsome glow to him. his raven hair was highlighted by the pale moon, a silver lining shining against his locks. as he gazed unto the bright city before him, you noticed his flawless facial features: eyes, round and excited, skin, smooth and without fault, nose, tall and attractive, and lips, plump and seemingly carved into perfection.
  for the first time in your life, your stomach felt like a jumbled mess sitting next to him. your breath quickened and you wanted to hide, feeling the sudden urge to make sure you looked amazing every time he looked at you.
  taehyung was popular with the girls and the boys, as expected. as much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but feel insignificant next to taehyung. classmates of all ages would swarm and gawk at him, staring at his practically god-sculpted visuals and kind soul. taehyung was perfect, and everybody knew it. it hurt you, sometimes. knowing that even though you were close friends, he may think of you as a sister, not a lover. there were hundreds of people in your school alone that would be a better match for taehyung than you. the self-destructive language bubbled inside of you every time you saw him laughing with someone else, eyes full of joy.
  you broke down in tears in front of him in his room. he was clueless as to your feelings for him, but seeing you sobbing mercilessly ripped his heart into little pieces. you cried about how you never felt like you were enough, how you just wanted one person to look at you the way you look at them, how you knew they were out of your league but you still wanted to be with them. hand rubbing your back comfortingly, taehyung assured that anyone who didn’t want to be with you was stupid, and the guy who you liked was an asshole. you laughed at his comment, and he chuckled with you, thinking he made you laugh in a time of need. he did, but not for the reason he thought.
   it’s the early-middle of senior year. the last of college apps had been sent out, but taehyung was pursuing something you thought to be incredulous. he burst into your room as you edited a project essay, startling you. his hyper aura transferred to you as he beamed that he’d been accepted as a trainee to bighit entertainment, a small, yet promising company. jumping up and down in unison, you hugged him tightly, wanting to show just how proud of him you were. he deserved it, he worked hard. you’d been accepted to a large university in seoul, essentially spelling out that you and taehyung would be moving to seoul to pursue your careers. this was when your heart felt as tense as ever, knowing that as a trainee, taehyung would be restricted from doing almost anything. and, when he becomes an idol, he’d be restricted from literally everything. 
  it was a normal day, your tired mind barely staying awake due to your midnight rendezvous with your friends. what was abnormal, though, was taehyung’s intentional avoidance of you. every time you approached him, he’d grow silent and slip away. every time you looked at him, knowing fully that he was boring holes into the side of your head, he’d dart his eyes, staring at the floor. it left you perplexed and slightly discouraged. the sudden lack in interest towards you rubbed you the wrong way: what could you have possibly done to drive him away this much? as you sat in silence against the brick wall, drumming your pencil against your leg, scouring through your mind for any reason for his actions, taehyung put his hand on your shoulder tenderly. the sudden touch made you simultaneously drop your pencil and look up, somewhat confused that taehyung just appeared after seemingly wanting to disappear the entire day. taehyung asked to talk. 
  he pulled you to the back of your school where it was quiet and crisp from the cold, winter air. as taehyung stood silent in front of you, wringing his hands nervously, you prepared for the worst. thousands of tragedies flew through your mind, not knowing what exactly to expect, but his body language spoke for itself. staring into your eyes deeply, he sputtered a confession of attraction, blurting how he wanted to go on a date with you. 
  how that night, so long ago, he, too, felt something different.
  the two of you had become one. 
  after graduation, that’s how the two of you lived your lives; taehyung, in and out of his busy schedule as an idol, and you, studying endlessly to pursue your medical career. taehyung had warned you that once he debuted, he’d have to leave your shared apartment and move into dorms with his friends turned co-members. you remember how this conversation went down: he talked to you as you faced him in bed, your hand resting on his clothed chest. you responded by kissing his forehead lovingly, reassuring that it’d be okay, that nothing would be wrong.
  of course, you’d said that with the thought taehyung wouldn’t become a worldwide sensation, that his face wouldn’t be all over twitter, instagram, and almost every billboard in sight. taehyung’s schedule consumed him and, as a result, your relationship as well. his appearances at your apartment became shorter and shorter, and everything felt lost. no hugs, no kisses, no dates, no nights over, no sex, no him. no nothing. it was you, in your apartment, by yourself, wishing that taehyung would unlock the door and pull you into his arms.
  his international trips hurt, too. it’s not that you didn’t trust him — no, you trust him more than anything — it was the fear which would corrode you in high school reemerging in the back of your mind. that dark whisper, moaning that everything was not okay. that taehyung knew you weren’t there, knew you wouldn’t know. what would stop him? his manager, and risk a scandal that could wreck his career? his members, who knew that if he fell, so would the entire group? no, they would never. you have no one on your side but you.
  you didn’t want to feel uneasy at the slightest thought of leaving your side, but being alone causes your deepest, darkest fears to keep you company. before taking a shower you’d stand in front of the bathroom mirror, nude, and unconsciously point out all the flaws you see in yourself. how, even with your feet apart, your legs only seemed to gain fat. how your waist was never as tiny as the women who would serenade thousands of people in sold-out concerts. how, regardless of all the good pictures you’ve snapped of yourself, you would never be pretty enough to stand confidently next to taehyung. 
  hiding the relationship was what bighit felt to be the best move. you knew it was just to protect taehyung from getting swarmed and harassed even more, but a small part of you couldn’t help but feel that it was your fault. your fault that you weren’t good enough for bighit to announce you as taehyung’s girlfriend. not thin enough for netizens to accept you as worthy of dating the kim taehyung. not smart enough, not pale enough, not attractive enough to be called his. you were afraid that bighit found you to be an embarrassment. how dare you crack the perfect image of bighit; how dare you.
  taehyung had returned from day four of their seoul concerts, which they had scheduled to end their tour, not kick it off. to the surprise of both you and his members, he’d gone straight to your apartment, falling into your arms exhaustedly. as he unhooked himself from your smaller frame, you looked up at him, quietly scrutinizing his face. he looked tired. his eyes no longer had the same glow. they were darkened and blinking slowly. he was tired. 
  at night, he clung to your body, wrapping his larger form around you. his leg rested, hooked on yours, his arms holding you as he snored softly behind your ear. you almost felt horrible. it was as if all his pain, all his sleepless nights, all his exhaustion was reflecting onto you. it was so bad that you felt it, too.
  they had let the members sleep in for once. taehyung, chest rising and falling rhythmically, was still in deep sleep at ten in the morning as you slipped out of his arms, getting out of bed. as you roll your neck, stretching your body, taehyung’s charging phone received a notification, grabbing your attention. still half asleep, you waddled towards it, reading that taehyung was expected to be at rehearsal in two hours. you groaned at the thought of waking him up after he’d just gotten some sleep, but you’d rather have him cranky for twenty minutes than stressed out that he’s late to practice shuffling towards his sleeping figure in bed, you shook his arm lightly, earning a hum and eventually the opening of eyes from your boyfriend. “already?” he croaked, pushing his unkempt hair out of his face to squint at the clock. 10:10 a.m. he slumped back into bed, groaning loudly into his pillow. he was as reluctant as you were. 
  it was their last performance of this tour, the most important one at best. you could see stress seeping through taehyung, his mood serious, his face stone cold and intimidating. you found it scary, yet oddly sexy. he’d invited you to stay backstage for the last concert, as afterward, the entire crew would go for dinner, and he wanted to spend this important night with you. his warm words suppressed the negative thoughts that clouded your mind for a moment. 
  you knew they’d come back. they always come back. 
  all members except for jungkook were backstage, either fanning themselves, changing, or renewing makeup. jungkook was on for his solo, the screams of the audience muting any conversation from backstage. you slouched on a leather couch, rolling the ball of your foot against the floor in boredom. taehyung suddenly emerged from behind a curtain with four women following close behind, his body clad in a handsome suit, perfectly defining his form, complimenting his body in every which way. he looked breathtaking, which was something you couldn’t say for yourself.
  the poltergeist which haunted your mind at the darkest hour began to emerge yet again, practically tearing your confidence down as taehyung stood tall, waiting for his stylists and makeup artists to finish their work. one woman seemed to lead all of them as she pushed them back, scolding the rest of her team as they had gotten too close.
  you only caught a glimpse of her, but it had hit you that she was essentially all you strived to be, and everything the public would expect of taehyung’s partner. her legs were long and slim, creating a perfect height between her and your boyfriend. her hair shimmering against what stage light entered past the curtain, you could see of just how beautiful she was. her eyes were large and round but still dainty and fit her face perfectly, her nose had a natural, flawless bridge, and her lips were round and complimented her features to the tee. face naturally shaped with a perfect jawline and body curvier than you could ever expect yourself to be, you felt as though you should pull away.
  where could you even go at this time? trying to find an exit to the venue, your eyes kept traveling back to taehyung and his makeup artist, who were giggling away at a joke one of them made. you despised the growing lump in your throat, knowing you had no right to be mad: you trust taehyung, and he trusts you. he’d never do anything to hurt you. 
  well, if that was the case, then why were they so close?
  you glared at the pair chuckling in unison, his makeup artist whispering a phrase as she cupped his cheek in her left hand, right hand redoing his foundation. taehyung laughed breathily at whatever she had mumbled, looking at her as if she meant the world to him. you felt that lump growing larger and larger by the second. you told yourself you wouldn’t cry, that you wouldn’t make it about yourself when it was taehyung’s time to shine, but it was hard. you were cracking.
  as an assistant swiftly switched the makeup palettes the artist was using, she bent down and exposed taehyungs chest and collarbone, re-lining black veins that were supposed to resemble a spider bite from maze runner. taehyung was now scrolling on his phone, completely oblivious to the hell you were experiencing only a few ten feet away. her hand glided down taehyung’s chest, stopping in the middle, near his solar-plexus. seeing her so close to your boyfriend who was now open chested in the middle of a cold room which already would tense his muscles, not to mention having a woman drag her hand down made the pit in your stomach grow more hollow by the second. you tried to swallow whatever thoughts plagued your mind; you knew you were probably a joke in bed compared to her. she would be so much better for him.
  you wanted to look away from the two of them acting so intimate as if she was the one who’s been by taehyung’s side since he was eighteen. that was you, it was you who sat with him and comforted him, it was you who sat alone for hours in restaurants, waiting for him to show up, it was you who could only see the remnants of taehyung’s presence from the night before, as he’d arrive and leave while you were asleep. it was you that missed his touch, his energy, his love. or was it?
  as jungkook’s stage came to a close, the audience cheering louder than ever before, the rest of the group prepared to perform ‘on’ as one, all six of them standing on a platform that would raise them into the final stage. relieved that taehyung was finally leaving her side, your delight was soon met with upset as when he climbed onto the platform, she adjusted his suit and laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand tightly and wishing him luck. 
  this was your breaking point. you slipped out of the backstage rooms and into the venue’s hallways, dropping against the wall to catch your breath. tears rolling down your cheeks slowly, you swallowed yet again, the lump in your throat heavy and persistent. you stood in the dimly lit hallway alone, hand against the wall, trying to calm yourself down. it was nothing, you thought, trying to reason with yourself. you’re making this about you again.
  but wasn’t your relationship with taehyung partially about you? two conflicting sides fogged your mind, clouding your judgment. you had no clue as to what to do. you felt helpless, and, most dreadfully, alone. you were alone. no one with you, no one in the vicinity. it was you, and your dark thoughts. it wasn’t any different from the other times when taehyung was absent, but this was different. it was as if your fears were proven true. you felt as though there wasn’t much hope.
  after collecting yourself, you waited patiently until the end of the concert, which reached an official close around midnight. watching taehyung thank his concert staff, shaking their hands confidently and thanking them endlessly, you collected his things as well of yours, awaiting his presence next to you. to your surprise, two strong arms wrapped around your waist, a chin resting on your shoulder. “did you enjoy the show?” taehyung hummed, voice groggy from performing for hours on end.
  “mhm,” you replied, placing your phone laying on a table back into your backpack, zipping it tightly. “you did great.” you knew that you sounded out of touch; hell, even you could hear it.
  “thank you, baby,” he pecked your neck softly, something that always sends butterflies straight to your stomach. “we’re going to dinner to celebrate ‘cause, you know… end of the tour!” he beamed, pushing his cheek against yours. “do you want to come with us, or do you want to go home? it’s okay if you don’t want to come, i understand, but i really, really want to spend tonight with you and everyone else i love.”
  you looked at him tiredly. two different narratives were running in your mind: one, who wanted to support taehyung in all he does, and another, who believed you didn’t belong here, who believed no one wanted you here. with taehyung’s reassurance that at least he wanted you around, you nodded, grasping his hand. “okay, i’ll come.” you smiled weakly, kissing his temple. the amount of emotional torment that had been cycling endlessly in your mind had taken a toll on you, the way taehyung’s heavy schedule took a toll on him. the two of you slipped into a large, black ford, your mask and coat disguising you as a staff member.
  their afterparty was a dinner, the whole restaurant rented out for bangtan and the bighit staff. seated next to taehyung, you found his energetic personality to never falter, as his cheerful tone mirrored that off this afternoon. tables were connected into one large strip, the entire group chiming together with laughter and warm energy. laughter and warm energy towards everyone but you.
  taehyung knows you as someone who doesn’t talk too much in large groups; you tend to talk to a couple of people near you and don’t really venture far, not being antisocial or shy, but willingly secluded. you attempted to chime in many times to conversation, only for it to be met with awkward glances from the staff and your comments not even being registered into the table chat. your happy remarks grew quieter and quieter until you found yourself saying nothing, just picking at the food in front of you and eating quietly, realizing that everyone had someone to talk to but you.
  the most difficult thing, though, was the fact your boyfriend was sitting next to you, babbling away with his makeup artists, stylists, and manager. you’d been completely rejected from the conversation, thrown out like trash, and he hadn’t noticed. his makeup artist talked with him contentedly, seductively stirring her drink with its straw. you focused on chewing on your practically untouched, trying not to think about the chemistry that was brewing in front of you. you physically felt your heartbreak, tears brimming your eyes once again. breathing deeply, you tried to mask your pain, slouching in your chair and pulling back so that your face couldn’t be seen. taehyung’s loud burst of laughter made you realize that he hadn’t even registered your exclusion. 
  to your surprise, taehyung chose to accompany you home instead of leaving for his apartment. the car ride quiet, you sat away from taehyung, knees facing the door instead of forwards. you glanced into the midnight streets of seoul, the entire city lit up with commercial buildings, hotels, and restaurants peppering the black night. you heard taehyung shift in his leather seat, the material squeaking against his hands trying to muffle the sound. the car ride home was awkward and uncomfortable, two things you’ve never felt before when with taehyung. you’d feel happiness, excitement, your heart bursting, love dripping from you like honey. this? this was not you, and this was not him. 
  from getting out of the car, you immediately dropped your things onto the couch and beelined straight for your bedroom, wanting to get out of the clothing you’d been wearing in a hot, humid dining room for the past two hours. taehyung followed, disappearing into the bathroom to wash his face. standing in just your underwear, you caught sight of your leg on your wall mirror. shuffling fully into view, you stared at your half-nude body, shuddering at the state of it. the stress of work and your relationship had begun to take a toll on you; you noticed you’d gained some weight and that your body looked just as exhausted as you. you swiftly turned away from the mirror, not wanting to let any more dark thoughts penetrate your mind. the night had been bad enough already, why should you make it worse for yourself?
  tumbling into bed, wearing nothing but an old, large shirt of taehyung’s and your panties, you pulled the covers closer to your body, laying on your right side. you felt the mattress shift as taehyung scoot next to you, his chest hitting your back, his leg habitually enveloping yours, arms wrapping around your waist. he began to nip softly at your neck, ear, and cheek, “hey,” he murmured in between peppering you with kisses, “are you okay? you didn’t say much tonight.” 
  you lay a hand on his arms, wrapping tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, and loosened them, swallowing. “i’m okay.”
  “i know that whenever you dodge my questions by saying you’re okay, you’re most definitely not okay,” he mumbled in your ear. pulling your shoulders towards him so you were facing him, he tucked the hair covering your face aside. “what’s going on, (y/n)? what happened? you can tell me,”
  looking up into his concerned, round eyes, tears involuntarily began streaming down your face, wetting the pillow next to you. taehyung pulled you closer to his chest, letting the shirt he was wearing soak your tears. he did this to make you feel protected, but also hide your face from view, knowing that he can’t help but cry whenever he sees you cry first. ‘hey, what’s happening?” he whispered tenderly, caressing your head in his hand, holding you tightly. “please, please don’t cry, we’ll figure it out! tell me what’s wrong, baby,”
  “i don’t feel like i’m enough for you,” you sighed, your voiced stifled by the fabric of his shirt.
  “baby, i can’t hear you.” he rubbed your back, kissing your forehead. 
  half dejected, half angry, you howled, “i’m not enough for you!” taehyung’s sorrowful look morphed into an astonished one, eyes darting all over your face, mouth open, trying to say something, anything. “i… i just… i see you all the time with beautiful women who are the fucking definition of the beauty standard here, beautiful faces, bodies, personalities, and i just sit there and wonder what the fuck do i have that keeps you by my side?! whenever you leave for tours, i’m mortified that you’ll find someone better than me and replace me, and even worse, with all your disappearances, i’ve been starting to think that’s already happened! you look at that fucking stylist, who i have no right to be mad at, like she’s the apple of your eye! like she’s your girlfriend, like she’s the one whose been with you since day zero! my worst fear is that you could replace me at any given moment when you’re one of the only things that make me happy right now!” you sobbed, putting your head down to avoid taehyung’s gaze. “i’m not anything like the people here. it just hurts so much to see you spend more time away from me. i’m scared, taehyung, i’m so, so scared,” you hastily wiped your tears with the back of your hand, the loud gasps and hiccups from crying still audible, even when you tried to mute them.
 “(y/n), i… i didn’t know, i’m so sorry,” taehyung was at a loss for words, seeing you, his one true love, expose how demolished you were by all of the unspoken torment. his heart began to split in two, tears forming against the corners of his eyes. “look at me,” he whimpered, prompting you to look up at his reddened face, adam’s apple bobbing. “i didn’t know you were hurting this much… but, baby, really? i’ve loved you for nearly eight years at this point, do you think i’d leave you for some janky, flirtatious lady i’ve known for less than a year? you are more than enough for me: you listen to me when i’m hurting, you comfort me when i’m sad, you make me so, so fucking happy every single day, not to mention, are amazing in bed… i could go on. you’re the smartest, most talented, most fierce woman i’ve ever met in my entire life. you look doubt right in the eye and give it the finger all the time. why not this? you mean the world to me, and i’m sorry you ever even thought i’d cheat on you or lose my love for you. i love you more and more every single day. i love your mind, i love your beauty, i love your personality, but most importantly, i love you. i’m not lying when i call you the love of my life.”
  you smiled at your boyfriend laying in front of you, a couple tears falling from his eyes and onto the pillow, disappearing into the fabric. “you’re right, i’m sorry—”
  “nuh-uh,” he stopped you, putting a finger to your lips, shaking his head. “you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m sorry that i haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, alright? i love you more than anything in the world. i swear, this will never, ever happen again.”
  “promise?” you moved closer to him, head tucked under his neck. taehyung tilt your chin upwards and kissed you compassionately, pulling away to look at you and take in your beauty.
  “i promise.”
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mego42 · 4 years
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I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.
YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.
Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 
ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!
That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):
The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster
There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.
“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”
“Nah he’s good we took him out.”
Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.
Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)
May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues
Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.
Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.
“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.
The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!
Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan
He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.
Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.
A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16
“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”
Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.
He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.
Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.
She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.
Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.
for a moment we were strangers by openhearts
“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.
She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.
“Hey.”
“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.
It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  
“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”
This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.
Not So Careful by @bensonstablers
When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.
“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”
And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.
It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.
love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves
"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.
"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."
"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."
And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 
Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver
Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!
Beth: Why do I have to repent?!
Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!
Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!
This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.
Working On Things by odenkirk
Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.
Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.
She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.
Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.
She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.
YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.
Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee
Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.
Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.
He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?
Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?
Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 
HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE
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leemaht · 4 years
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can i rq a break up au w/ futakuchi and 36 56 62 feelin angsty lately 😳😳
your wish is my command! i definitely didn't cry writing this, haha. wouldn't do that.
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the last chance you had
prompts: ‘you know that i love you, right? right?’; ‘stay away from me! i don’t want to see you!’; ‘i know what i said and i know i can’t take it back but i want you to know that i didn’t mean it.’
warnings: angst, toxic relationship, mention of sexual harassment/rape, swearing, mentally abusive
pairing: futakuchi kenji x reader
summary: this is a sad little story about futakuchi kenji, who doesn’t know how to express love and care until it is too late. or rather does not realize how much of a jerk he is until it is too late.
notes: this is a goddamn whole lot more dark and angsty than i intended, so enjoy with caution
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thursday. a normal day for futakuchi kenji, or so he thought.
wrong he was. it was the day he would lose the one and only love of his life. the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. the person he had imagined to marry and start a family with. you.
it was the day you finally gathered enough sadness, lonesomeness and unhappiness for the barrel to run over. it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. your love was never the issue. there were several reasons leading you to this breaking point.
1. futakuchi kenji made you believe he didn’t care about you.
he forgot important events easily. he forgot about your first anniversary and even after you reminded and presented him your thoughtful gift you had spent so much time and money on, he shrugged it off and told you it wasn’t a big deal.
he forgot about your birthday, he didn’t even congratulate you like every other of your friends did. all his teammates knew about your birthday and remembered him, most of them had congratulated you themselves. but your boyfriend decided to text you the word ‘congrats’ at 11 pm.
and it was true. futakuchi didn’t care about all this ‘minor stuff’, all he cared for was you so he thought that was enough. but you didn’t get that idea. for you it was just hurtful.
2. futakuchi kenji made you feel alone.
he forgot about you in general, you thought. it happened more than once that you were scheduling a date and he left you hanging. it happened more than once that he left you waiting for hours, alone at a shady location without answering one of your many calls and text messages, sometimes even in the rain and wind. one time at school he had asked you to come to the park this evening and even though it was a normal week day, you had agreed. you arrived at 8 pm as settled, waiting on a park bench for your boyfriends arrival, but he never came.
after about two hours a text message from him came in.
‘do you want me to come over now?’ it said, as if he didn’t even know what he had done.
‘leave me alone.’ you texted back hoping to animate him to ask you what was the matter but he left you on read.
you made your way home, locked the door and cried the whole night after being cat called at least 7 times on your way back in the dark night. futakuchi didn’t write you for the next few days, making you feel even more abandoned then before. he took your ‘leave me alone’ literally and intended to give you room to breathe because he honestly forgot about his request of meeting you. he assumed you had a private problem and didn’t want to barge in. after becoming the new captain of the team his life got a lot more busy, so he forgot about the little things. he was a very forgetful person to begin with but it got worse since then.
3. futakuchi kenji made you feel ashamed.
he couldn’t keep secrets. there you were entrusting him with some of the most important secrets of your life and the told them to others without a second thought and with a smile on his face.
the time you got a bad mark on one of your tests you had learned for so long. you asked him not to mention it to your parents when he would visit you this afternoon, because you wanted to tell them yourself. and he agreed. only five minutes later he bragged to your parents how his mark was so much better than yours, to which your parents sent him home and gave you a lecture about why you would keep secrets from them.
when you texted him about this he thought it was funny how you got so angry at minor inconveniences and made fun of you. he intended this to be his apology and brighten up your mood but when you didn’t text him back he let you be.
the time one of your grandparents died and you asked him not to tell anybody, because you only wanted your friends to know. this day you came too late to class but when you entered everybody, including the teacher gave you a pitying look. that’s when you knew he had told all of your classmates even though you told him not to. you cried silent tears of disappointment but everybody assumed they were because of sadness and tried to comfort you. you hated this kind of pity and attention and left, crying even more than before.
but futakuchi didn’t follow you but left you space. he was the kind of guy who thought space and silence could fix everything.
the time you did something embarrassing and asked him not to tell anybody but when you went to the gym to give him his bag he had forgotten in the classroom you clearly heard him tell his whole team the story. you dropped the bag so loud it made him look at you, turned around and ran away crying. he didn’t follow you though. you know, ‘space’. you earned a lot of empathy of aone and the rest though as they realized you suffered as much from futakuchi as they did. maybe even worse.
4. futakuchi kenji made you feel unimportant.
he always put you in fourth place. his first place was volleyball, his second place was his family, his third place was his school work and in fourth and last place was you.
he cancelled important meetings with you for stuff like ‘my mom wanted me to buy flour. she said it was alright if i did it tomorrow, but i want to do it now.’ he ditched you for lunch because he rather ate and discussed with his teammates. the cancelled dates because he met up with his teammates. when you asked to study together for a test, he refused because you only ‘slowed him down’.
5. futakuchi kenji made you feel unloved.
all this facts put together and also even though you were dating for over one and a half year now and you had said it so many times, he had never before told you that he loved you, made you feel this way.
the first time you said it was 7 months into the relationship. he answered with ‘thank you.’ you assumed it was too soon for him and left it, but the more you said it the more he dodged.
‘i love you’ ‘right.’ or ‘ok’ or ‘i know’
you honestly couldn’t remember a single week in the last 6 month in which you didn’t at least cry 3 times because of him.
thursday
one day after the worst day of your life. you had talked things out though, for now at least.
after all the fights and break downs you had,you decided to give your boyfriend one last chance and promised yourself, if he blew this up you would end all this suffering and break up. you wanted to be happy again, something you hadn’t been for a while or at least not with futakuchi.
you wore your most cheery smile and pick him up after practice, but events took a bad turn.
after practice had ended you greeted your boyfriend with a big smile and sweet words, which he didn’t return of course. he just nodded in your direction and gave you a quick peck and disappeared in the changing rooms. koganegawa was the first one to leave the changing room. he was also the one bringing doom.
as he walked past you you attempted to greet him as usual, but he wasn’t as cheery as you were used to. rather he looked at you a little suspicious. after asking him what was the matter he answered.
‘captain was in a bad mood today.’ he said gloomily
‘hm, why was that? he seemed normal to me.’
‘well, he said something about you screaming at him yesterday for no reason.’  by this time more people had left the changing room and stood by you.
‘that’s what he said? ‘for no reason’?’ kogane nodded. you looked down on the ground with a defeated smile as the tears started flowing. kogane tried to comfort you clueless and aone patted your back slowly as he guessed what was happening.
after about two minutes futakuchi stepped out of the changing room last, locked after him and walked towards your crying form.
‘hey what you crying about?’ he rather stated then asked, without the slightest hint of worry or empathy.
you clenched your fists at his reaction. ‘did you tell everyone i screamed at you for no reason yesterday?’ you asked though gritted teeth. kogane and aone were still standing behind you as a kind of moral support as both of them... all of them knew how futakuchi was.
‘huh, that’s what all this is about?’ he stated unimpressed. ‘yes, i did.’
‘do you seriously believe that?’ your anger grew more and more but you referred from shouting.
‘yeah.’ you only nodded absently. ‘then tell me the reason.’
‘are you telling me you forgot about all i said yesterday?’ he averted your gaze.
‘kogane.’ you spoke up. ‘did he tell you guys that the day before yesterday was our one and a half years anniversary?’
‘no’ he answered.
‘interesting. did he tell you that he forgot about it until i reminded him?’
‘no’ he answered again.
‘alright, did he tell you that he asked me to come out to the park yesterday, when it was already dark outside? and that he texted me again and again that he would be there in 5 minutes but never actually showed up and made me wait for 3 hours in the darkness and cold?’
‘no..’ kogane was shocked, so was the rest. but the story didn’t end there.
‘did he tell you guys, that on my way home two weird guys followed me, so i had to run? the funny thing is they also started running after me.’ you stated in sarcasm hiding your fear. ’did he tell you that they followed me until i was home and that they even knocked on my door, so that i had to wake up my parents? did he tell you that they actually broke a window trying to get in, so that we had to call the police who told us that those two guys were convicted criminals?’ by the time you reached this point of the story you were in tears. the whole team looked as if they were ready to throw punches at futakuchi. some of them hugged you or offered comforting words. they already did way more for you than futakuchi ever did in your whole 1 1/2 years.
‘did he tell you that when i told him, he made fun of me and said i shouldn’t act like such a pussy?’ you ended your story. truth is futakuchi had gone crazy after you told him all of that. he wanted to prank you by cancelling the date but would have never thought that this would take such dangerous turns. he hadn’t slept for a minute that night and paced around his house aimlessly. but he didn’t want you to know that and tried invalidate the situation a little bit. after you hadn’t answered anymore he assumed you had gone to bed already. aone grabbed futakuchi by the collar.
while the scene unfolded itself you spoke up.
‘futakuchi. i’m done. i can’t take all of this any longer. the worst part of this is that this wasn’t even the worst thing you ever did. but i can’t or don’t want to accept this any more.’
‘w-wait. what are you saying.’ he stuttered still in the grasp of aone.
‘i’m saying that this is over. i’m breaking up.’ with this you turned around and walked away, leaving the rest of the team in awe. aone let go of futakuchi and paced after you, offering to walk you home.
futakuchi screamed your name and tried to losen the grip of kamasaki who took aone’s spot to run after you but you screamed back.
‘stay away from me! i don’t want to see you! never again.’ as your tears started flooding again. aone put a protecting arm around you as you two walked out of reach.
friday
this day futakuchi arrived at school with a black eye. [kamasaki lost his temper] and you ignored him all day. but this afternoon there was a knock on your door.
it was him.
‘y/n, please open up. we need to talk.’ he sounded desperate. you opened it a slit. ‘i have talked so many times,i’m done with it.’ you wanted to close the door again but he put a hand against it.
‘you know that i love you, right? right?’ he was now in tears.
‘you sure didn’t act like it.’ you deadpanned hoping to overtone the emptiness and sadness you were feeling inside. futakuchi broke, not knowing what you meant. in his eyes he had tried his best in showing you his feelings and knowing that you didn’t think the same made him furious. but before he could even say another word, you already closed the door and left him, like he did so many times. he reflected.
reflected on his behavior just now and yesterday and always and knew he had fucked up.
you received one last text message from him this day, saying:
‘ i know what i said and i know i can’t take it back but i want you to know that i didn’t mean it. and what i did. i know i am a horrible person. please. please, tell me you forgive me.’
you texted back:
‘i was breaking because of you. i have endured all of this long enough and yesterday i decided to give you one last chance and you blew it up. i think i deserve to be happy, but i cannot with you. i can’t forgive you for all the things you did to me. you made me a broken mess. also, if you hadn’t meant it you wouldn’t have said it in the first place.’
you pressed ‘send’ and waited for the signal that he had read it. when you saw that he started typing, you blocked his number and put your phone down.
this night you didn’t cry because of him, but because you knew everything would be alright from now.
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somedayonbroadway · 4 years
Text
Totally Off Center
Boy Meets World Masterlist
A/N: Alright, here we are. Part one of Cult Fiction. Please enjoy!
“De La Guerra, good,” Kelly called, tossing down the girls paper on her desk. JoJo smiled. “DaSilva, not bad.” Albert grinned. “Higgins, bad.” Race frowned up at the man, knowing Jack wanted to say more.
But he was quite literally saved by the bell. “Kelly, bell!” he replied, standing to gather his stuff as his classmates started to leave.
Jack managed to get right in his way. “Alright, hold on, hold on,” he stalled. Race sighed but stood still, glaring up at the man. “Ya know… you’re almost a junior in high school now. Have you thought about college, kid? Because—“
“I’m goin’ ta college,” the boy insisted.
Raising his eyebrows, Jack crossed his arms. “Oh you are? Where?”
“Hawaii,” the kid stated easily. “Figured I’d have a better chance outside of the country.” He smirked.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Ya know, kid… there’s a handful of people who care about ya in this world… I’m one of ‘em. So stop blowin’ me off, okay?” he asked, truly wanting to have a genuine conversation with this kid who seemed to only be getting more and more closed off lately. He knew it must’ve partially been his fault. He’d been pushing. But the boy was just pushing him away.
He didn’t like it.
But Race scoffed. “Jack, I got people who care about me.”
Albert tapped him on the shoulder. “Ya know, Tony… I think Mr. Kelly’s right… we got one more year of high school n’ then… what?”
“Well, I wanna go ta Penn State,” JoJo stated, linking her arm through her boyfriend’s.
The redhead smiled at her. “N’ I wanna go where she goes!” he decided, hopelessly in love with that girl.
Race sighed. They weren’t helping this situation in the least. He turned back to Kelly who looked down at him before running a hand over his hair. “Clock’s tickin’, little buddy,” the man sighed. “Ya gotta figure out what ya wanna do—“
“Jack, you’re not my guardian anymore,” Race argued, not liking the words that came out of his mouth, but knowing they were true, nonetheless. “I’m back with both my parents. I’ll be fine,” he insisted, trying to get around the young man.
But Jack stepped in his way again. “Antonio…” he said seriously. Race paused at that. Jack rarely ever used his full name. “Yeah, you’re back with your parents. But they’re busy tryin’ ta fix their marriage,” he reasoned, knowing the boy needed help. He didn’t want to think about what else might be happening there. “So are they,” he added, pointing to the boy’s best friends.
The kid turned to look at them.
“Study hall?” JoJo suggested, looking up at her beau.
Albert grinned. “Makeout?” he countered.
“Albie!”
“JoJo!”
They locked their fingers around each other’s and dashed for the door.
Tony rolled his eyes and faced his teacher again. “Look, you’ve been given four years of security here… but they’re gonna throw ya out soon, pal. What’re ya gonna do then? Huh?” The child had no answer. Jack knew it wasn’t easy to just know the answer to these hard questions, but failing every exam and every paper certainly wouldn’t help. “Look, kid… I’m just askin’ ya what ya wanna do, alright? Think about it, n’ let me know if you want help figurin’ it out, okay?”
The boy’s big puppy dog eyes looked up at him. And Jack finally moved.
The kid didn’t say a word as he left.
And Jack could only watch him walk away.
Just as Race made his way out into the halls, someone stopped him. “Hi…” she greeted, stepping in front of him.
Race smiled sadly. “Hey, Mickie,” he responded, pausing to turn to her.
She smiled at him. “I couldn’t help overhearing Kelly do that number on you,” she stated, glancing back at the teacher who was walking back up to the front of his classroom, looking a bit frustrated.
Race knit his eyebrows together. “You think he was doin’ a number on me?”
“Only totally,” the girl insisted. “I mean, all that stuff about only a handful of people who care about you?” She scoffed and shook her head. “I must have a hundred people who care about me. And they care enough about me not to judge me like that in front of everybody!” It sounded like she was defending him.
The boy couldn’t help it that he liked being defended like that. Not feeling completely down on himself. Like maybe someone else actually did understand. “Yeah… that was kinda embarrassing,” he muttered.
Mickie smiled at him. “You wanna go grab a cup of coffee somewhere?” she offered. “I’m buying, and I promise not to judge you at all.”
With a shrug, the boy decided he had nothing better to do. “Uh, yeah… that sounds great.”
She nodded. “Alright… let's go…”
“Welcome to The Refuge,” Mickie smiled as they walked inside.
Race nodded, looking around and finding a bunch of kids just about his age all over comfy looking couches and booths, sipping on coffee and picking at pastries. What he hadn’t expected was for them all to look over at the door and grin. “Mickie!” they all mutedly cried in unison, walking over to hug the young girl.
The boy stood back a little, not knowing exactly what to do and not extremely keen on the sudden attention. But Mickie smiled. And the second that group saw him, their arms were open wide again.
“Tony!”
It was said in the same voice. All at the same time, just as they all came up to hug him. And something inside Race told him this place was off. Something about it was just wrong. But he couldn’t figure out what it was.
It was odd. But Race didn’t stop them. Jack used to tell him hugs weren’t for everyone. Jack loved hugs, though. Only on occasion, but he seemed to always know exactly when was the right time to wrap his strong arms around the kid. This seemed different than those hugs. But the kid didn’t want to offend anybody.
He’d come here to get away from Jack, not think about every word the man had ever said to him.
“Wow, they all know my name… I don’t know if it’s cool or really creepy,” he said nervously as he eventually walked away from the group.
Mickie turned to him. “You have a sense of humor,” she smiled. “I like that.”
“And yet, you’re not laughing,” Race commented, stopping just as she did, his back to the place.
Mickie looked up at him, dead in the eyes. Something about her gaze felt weird. Almost empty. “Laughter is a mask which denies the reality of a situation and reveals nervousness,” she stated easily, like she’d said it a thousand times before.
A small, nervous chuckle escaped the boy. But Mickie didn’t laugh with him which meant she wasn’t joking. So Race carefully got ahold of himself. “S-so, what’s up with the music?” he asked, trying to listen and see if maybe it was just too quiet to hear. But there was none.
“This isn’t really that kind of club, Tony…”
Race squinted. “No music? So what kinda club is it, then?”
Grabbing gently at his hands, the young girl smiled up at him. “It’s more of a… hangout,” she explained, almost scared she was using the wrong kind of word to describe this place. “Me and my friends get together and… talk about stuff.” She began to lead him around the room, waving at the other kids and young adults.
The blond boy looked around the place again. There had to be over fifty people in this place. “They’re all your friends?” he asked, not really believing that.
But she nodded. “Yes. They can be yours too… if you want,” she offered.
Not truly understanding, Tony shrugged. “Sure… I mean, I could always use more friends…” He knew he had friends. Albert and JoJo. Jack, even. But this girl was just trying to be nice to him. “Don’t know if I’m real comfortable with the whole hugging thing, though…” he admitted.
Mickie grinned and squeezed his hand. “Mr. Weisel says, a hug is a burst of pure love!” she recited, looking as though she truly believed that.
“Who’s Mr. Weisel?”
“He runs this place,” Mickie explained. “He is the most remarkable human being I’ve ever met! He changed my life, Tony…”
Race nodded at her, about to ask more before a man came up from behind her. “Hello, Mickie!” he greeted. Her immediate response was to turn around and hug the man. The boy didn’t get it. “Are you centered?”
“I’m centered, Mr. Weisel,” she promised with a smile.
Mr. Weisel nodded and let her out of his embrace. “And how about you, Tony? Are you centered?”
Not wanting to lie to the man, the boy shook his head, thinking back to Jack once again, who was now another person on a list of people who was pushing at him. “Nope… I’m totally off center,” he admitted.
The man nodded. “Well… we’ll have to see what we can do about that…”
With a small shrug, the boy shoved his hands in his pockets. “Good luck to ya…” He watched the man turn to grab a soda from one of the coolers up against the wall. “So you’re Mr. Weisel?”
The stranger smiled at him. “Guilty as charged,” he admitted. He looked kind enough. But something in the back of the kid’s mind still questioned this place. And this man. Just because someone looked kind on the outside, didn’t mean they were.
“It’s a nice place ya got here…” The boy looked around again. “A little touchy-feely at first but… it’s growin’ on me…”
The man popped open the canned soda and offered it over to him. “Well, it just goes to show, Tony, you can’t always go with your first instincts, Tony. You’ve got to give people a chance, Tony.”
Taking a sip of the cola in his hand, Race squinted, feeling that uncomfortable nudge at the back of his brain squirming back to the surface. “You really like my name, don’t ya?” he asked.
Weisel smiled. “Well, there’s plenty of room in case you’d like to move in,” he suggested, gesturing to his place.
That’s when Race took a small step back. He scoffed. “Move in? What, are you nuts?”
“This is where I live, Tony,” Mickie said, looking a little upset at his immediate dismissal of the idea. She turned to look up at him, her adoring gaze finally falling off of Mr. Weisel. “We all live here.”
That’s when it hit him. “Oh… my bad…” Race said, setting the soda down on the counter. “This is a cult…”
Everyone froze at that word. About a hundred eyes settled in on him as if he’d said something offensive. And then they all laughed. Weisel shook his head. “No no… we’re just a place for people who need love in their lives.”
Race shook his head. “Look, I really have plenty of love… but thanks anyways…”
“You’re judging us, aren’t you?” Weisel said, beginning to make a circle around the space, making sure to touch the arm or leg of each individual inside.
The boy didn’t know what to say. “What?”
“The way your teachers, your family, and everyone else in your life judges you,” Weisel reasoned.
The words made something inside of Race burn. “Yeah…” he said. “I don’t like that very much…”
“Because?”
“Because maybe they don’t really know me at all…” he stated, a sort of guilt settling in his chest at that. But maybe it was true. Maybe he was just another charity case to the DaSilvas. To Jack. God knows his parents hadn’t taken two second to try to understand him.
“Well, why don’t you get to know us before you judge us?” Weisel offered, looking around at all the kids who were watching him like he hung the moon. “If you do that for us, we’ll do that for you,” he promised.
The kid looked around and shrugged. “Seems fair,” he stated, smiling over at Mickie.
After all, what did he have to lose?
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willowknee · 4 years
Text
Crushes and Crazy Hair-Dying- Will fluff
Title: Crushes and Crazy Hair-Dying People: Will x reader, Gee Nelson Word count: 2,600 Warnings: drinking Songs to listen to: idk Prompt/request: Hey! If you’re not too busy please can I request some fluff with Will? Maybe the reader could be Gee’s new mate and Will gets a crush on her and becomes all awkward? Or whatever you feel like writing haha 😂 thank you xxx A/N: I’m so bloody sorry this took like 3 decades to be written, honestly dunno what happened there. Really bad grammar and punctuation in this I'm so so sorry.
You had met Gee in the most bizarre manner, but you were completely grateful that you did, she honestly was one of the most intelligent people you have ever known and crazily funny to match. It was a random sunny Tuesday, you were sitting in front of the mirror at your mother’s hair dressers, you decided for once to do something bold, you were dying your hair. Not any plain natural colours like you’re used to, no, you were dying your hair a bright colour. You weren’t exactly sure what colour as you told your mom to surprise you, but you were sure it wasn’t any ordinary brown, when out of nowhere one Gee Nelson bursted through the door and let out a cry of despair.
“Look what that monster did to me!” She had cried.
Everyone was looking at her, clearly bewildered but your mom just walked up to her and sat her in the chair beside yours.
“What happened?” Your mom had asked, looking at Gee’s hair which was, well, a complete home hair-dye disaster.
“Bloody Will! He convinced me to let him dye my hair for a video and this is what came of it! Last time I let that man come within five feet of my hair I’m telling you now,” She whined and you had let out a giggle before you could catch yourself. She turned to look at you.
“Is it that bad?” She asked.
You looked again and you knew you couldn’t lie to her.
“Horrendous, but don’t worry, you’re talking to a pro and her legendary daughter, your hair will be salvaged and the world will return to normal,” You proclaimed making her smile.
“I’ll hold you to that,” She said and you both had begun talking non-stop as your mom worked on saving her hair from the disastrous work of this ‘Will’ as you sat waiting for the dye to work it’s magic in your hair.
Six months later you were at her apartment which she shared with Will, but you had never actually met him before, only heard the wacky and wonderous stories about him and his childish antics that he and his friends got up to. Gee had actually sent you the link to his youtuber and you came to find him to actually be pretty funny and you and Gee would share memes over text or on twitter about the videos.
“Oi, Gee! What we feeling today, eh? Lazy and slobbish so we get a maccies, lazy yet somewhat classy so we order Dominos or shall we finally decide to get off our arse and go out for lunch?” You say, walking out the kitchen to where she was sitting on the settee.
“Oh, actually I just got a text from Will, he’s invited me to go for lunch with him and the rest of the boys,”
You smile slightly and hand her the cup that she always uses. “Ah alrighty, no problem. I’ll head out as soon as I’m finished with my drink then, yeah?”
She looks up at you and smiles widely, kind of freaking you out considering it was out of nowhere.
“Why don’t you come with me?!” She exclaims.
“Say what now?”
“No seriously, it will be fun! You get to meet my roommate and the rest of the crazy lot, you’re going to meet eventually when you come along to one of our parties, might as well meet them while you’re sober!”
You thought about it but really you didn’t see why not, it wasn’t like you had a valid reason to decline either, what was the worst that could happen? So, you accepted and after borrowing some of Gee’s clothes and makeup so you didn’t look like an absolute slob walking around in your paint-stained joggers and oversized hoodie, you ended up in front of Nandos where you were to meet everybody.
You both walk in, still mid conversation as you made a joke which had Gee in stitches, drawing the attention of everyone in the restaurant, including the table of four boys that you were currently walking towards.
“No way, imagine that,” Gee giggles in response to your joke.
You arrive at the table and greet everyone to which they then greet you back in return.
“Hey everyone! This here is my dear friend Y/N, I invited her along so she can meet you weirdos now and get used to you before being exposed to the pure madness you all are once drunk,” Gee explains to which they all protest before simmering down and introducing themselves.
“Hi, I’m James, it’s lovely to meet you,” the one with soft features says, his brown lock slightly messy but it makes him look adorable, despite his unkempt hair he looked well put together and you could tell he put a lot of effort into his appearance.
“I’m George,” the smaller of the lot says with a soft smile, offering his hand for you to shake which you accept and gently shake his hand.
“‘Ello, I’m Alex,” the one adorning a bright pink jumper with a slogan you couldn’t quite read says, you smile and give him a small wave before turning to the last boy when your breath catches in your throat.
First of all, Will was far more attractive in person compared to in his videos or the pictures Gee has shown you, his hair mainly hidden underneath his beanie but his fringe was poking out, exposing the silky brown locks that looked soft to touch. His brown eyes looking at you, slightly widened and his mouth slightly left ajar. Was he okay? Was there something on your face? George nudges him and he looks like he broke out a trance before smiling widely.
“Hey, I’m Will,” He says, the big voice you’re used to hearing in his videos weren’t present, instead a gentle and soothing voice replaced it.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you all, I watch all of your videos and think they’re brilliant,” You compliment, sliding into the booth so you’re sat next to Gee and across from Will.
A chorus of ‘thank you’ made its rounds and you smiled at them all and began to engage in animated conversations, your arms flailing wildly as you retell the story about the time you met Gee, Will’s face becoming flushed which you found utterly adorable.
Few hours later your food was long finished but you were still sitting in the restaurant with your drinks talking to everyone as if you had been friends with these people for years.
“I need to pop to the loo, come with me?” Gee asks you.
You nod in confirmation and tell everyone you’ll be right back before walking with Gee into the toilets, lifting yourself up to sit on the counter.
“So, how’s meeting everyone?” She asks through a stall door.
“They’re absolutely lovely,” you exclaim, turning to look at your reflection in the mirror.
“Have a liking to anyone in particular?” She asks in a suggestive tone, which makes you look at the stall door through the mirror in confusion.
“I don’t know… a certain Northern lad with brown hair, brown eyes and has been looking at you like a lost puppy for the past three hours.”
Your heart leaped at the thought of Will looking at you while you were busy talking to others, not realising.
“I-“
“Was staring at him too, you’re not subtle either of you,”
You stumble for words while Gee laughs softly, walking out the stall and over to the sinks to wash her hands. You look down at her and curse her for being so observant.
“He’s cute… and funny, doesn’t necessarily mean I have a liking to him, if we’re going by those two adjectives then I must have a liking to everyone sitting at that table. Including you.”
“Oh come off it, you know you like Will, stop being a big baby and admit it,”
“I literally met him three hours ago, this isn’t a Disney film I can’t fall in love with him and accept his hand in marriage just because we’ve got a mutual attraction,”
Gee nods and smiles.
“You wanna marry him, huh?”
You nudge her and shake your head. Both of you head out and back to the table before noticing everyone’s getting up and leaving, you notice you still have almost a full glass of beer so you decide to neck it in one, eliciting whoops and hollers from
everyone and you laugh and shyly wipe away the froth from your face.
Everyone begins to head out but you hang back,
not wanting to have to walk fast so as to not get trampled on.
“Are you coming to the party this weekend?”
You turn your head and see Will standing next to you, looking sheepish which makes you smile.
“I believe I am, yes, Gee would have my head else,” you joke which makes him laugh.
“She is a fiesty one I’ll give you that,”
“Too right she is, damn woman frightens me,”
You both laugh and continue the journey back to Will’s and Gee’s apartment, joking with each other the entire way there. Gee joins in at some point but soon dips to talk to everyone else since you were walking too slowly for her liking.
Once back at theirs you all play a few rounds of fifa which you were absolutely shit at which Will spares no effort to remind you of that, but soon it’s time for you to go home since you still have to clean your apartment and get some studying done.
“See you on Saturday yeah?” Will shouts which you smile and nod at in agreement.
“It’s a date.” You say before walking out the door with a wave.
Will sits there, mouth agape. He turns his head to Gee and points to the door.
“She said it’s a date,”
“It’s not like you had the balls to do it,” she comments before standing up and walking towards the stairs, discreetly watching Will
dance around happily with a smile.
Saturday came around faster than you thought it would, although it seems like it took forever because you are looking forward to seeing Will again. You’ve been texting non-stop since you all went out for that meal but you haven’t had the time to go and meet them, so you are excited for tonight. You want to make sure you looked amazing.
Grabbing your clothes and makeup you shove them into your bag alongside some alcohol for pre-drinks that you had promised. You drive to Gee’s and Will’s to get ready with her while listening to a playlist you had created sometime ago, you had suddenly remembered the password to your Spotify and decided to reminisce with some old tunes.
The drive seems quicker with the music accompanying you and you find yourself walking towards the apartment building and soon enough, you’re knocking on their door.
“Come in~!” You hear from inside.
“Gee!” You greet as you walk up to her and give her a hug.
“Let’s go get ready! We’re late enough as it is!”
Getting ready goes without a hitch, no mental breakdowns, no wardrobe malfunctions and even your makeup goes on well. It’s almost as if things were perfect. Maybe too perfect.
“It’s time to partyyy~” Gee squeals down your ear excitedly.
It turns out the party has moved from Will’s and Gee’s apartment to George and Alex’s because of their next-door neighbours, which explains when Gee walks past she sticks two fingers up in payback and squeals with laughter all the way to the elevator.
You giggle at her childish antics and balance yourself in the lift, cursing yourself for not eating before you both began pre-drinks. You eventually end up at the party, after multiple trips and snapchat videos of each other acting a complete fool. “We are here!” Gee shouted as she threw open the front door. There was a massive roar of ‘welcome’ as you both stumble your way deeper into the apartment. You found the usual friendship group aka the Nandos Lot, and you smiled brightly and you wave enthusiastically at everyone, genuinely happy to see each and every one of them.
“Y/N! Glad you came!” Alex chimes, coming for a hug, which everyone else shortly repeats, not wanting to feel left out.
Everyone but Will, that was, who was sheepishly stood to the side, when he noticed you were looking at him expectantly, arms open, his eyes widen as he began stuttering something about needing a drink before running off towards the kitchen. You shrug his odd behaviour off and began looking for a drink, you quickly whip up a concoction and then after you down the entirety of your red solo cup, you walk back to your friends, grab the closest pair of hands and walk into the middle where the make-shift dance floor was.
Dancing freely to the music blasting through the speakers and barely being concealed through the wide walls of the boy’s apartment, you smile up to your dancing partner and to your pleasant surprise you see Will looking at you in bewilderment.
“Come on! I didn’t drag you here to stand there! Dance with me!” After a lot of convincing and a couple dozen shots, Will finally calmed down and began dancing with you, you both started to have a really enjoyable time. You began to notice how he seemed to have a childish glint to his eyes while drunk, he looked really happy and carefree this way. You loved the way he was constantly smiling and let out a rupture of laughs at your choice of dance moves and even his silliness when he took you up on your offer of a dance battle.
“You should be like this sober! You’re so much fun to be around!” You exclaim, grabbing his hands as you try to twirl around to which he aids you with, not bothering to stop twirling you which makes your head spin.
“I would but I always end up makin’ myself look like a right tit in front of the lass i have a crush on,” he explains, nonchalantly, seemingly not realising what he was saying.
You stop twirling and look at him as much as you could, the alcohol and the twirling wasn’t the greatest mix when you were looking for stability,
“You have a crush on me?” You ask in surprise.
Who would have thought. Will fucking Lenney had a crush on you. Of all people. You were ready to scream with excitement when his eyes bugged out, he looked scared and began to curse himself under the sun for his slip.
“Naw- fuck, I just meant that- no, I-” He began tripping over his words and you giggle over how cute he was.
You raise yourself onto your tip-toe and give him a shy peck on the lips, it only lasted a short few seconds, but it left your lips tingling and you smile wide at him.
“Will, I like you too, dummy,”
He smiles one of the most gorgeous smiles you have seen like ever, and shyly pulls you closer to him.
“How’d ya feel about ditching and coming back to mine? We can watch a movie and get to know each other more,”
You giggle at that.
“Sure, let’s play two truths, one lie, for each wrong answer we take a shot, for every right answer, you get a kiss,” you proclaim with a smile.
“You’re fuckin on, Love.”
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Text
Her Majesty. || 4
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Everything Grows With Love.
Harry and I have hardly spoken since our arrival from Ireland. I've been bustling with royal duties and assisting my mother to prepare for the Garden Party of the year. I used to cherish these functions as a kid, it was always entertaining to sneak away from the nanny and roam the grounds of Buckingham Palace that would be filled with more people than I could count at the time. Of course, the King And Queen were well aware of me roaming and sipping on tea and had bodyguards a few steps behind me at every moment, however, at the time, I thought I was getting away with being sneaky and participating in an adult-only event.
Now, as I am older, I dread most of the garden parties due to the fact the garden parties are not about sipping tea and eating sandwiches anymore, they're more so for conversing with Lord-Lieutenants, Societies and Associations, those in the higher power of government and the elite. Quite frankly, I don't fancy dealing with members of parliament at what's proposed to be a party; it's not much of a party when you're forced into the world of politics. Garden parties are a royal tradition dating back to Queen Victoria's time in the 1860s, so trying to get out of attending them is... hard and almost impossible.
I glance out the window, peering down at the terraces that are Elysium-green and silk soft this summer. The staff are scurrying to get everything ready for the garden party that's meant to open its gates in just a few hours. Against my mother's requests and somewhat complaints, my father refused to reschedule the garden party, insisting that even in a heatwave, it was necessary for the party to go on.
I overhear the doorknob of my room rattle before the door rasps open, diverting me from my gaze below. "Your father needs to get that fixed, sounds hideous," my mother shakes her head at the racket of my door, ironically though, the door shouldn't be the main priority for what needs to be fixed in this household or family. What needs to be fixed is the unfairness of the damn monarchy and its rules that should be abolished, but what would I know? After all, I am only the Princess.
"Good afternoon, it's good to see you're on schedule with getting ready," my mother half beams, solely being sarcastic but endeavouring to lighten the mood and keep high spirits.
I don't respond, instead, I offer my mother a fake smile the best that I can. "Anastasia, your dress is on its way up, you'll be expected to be ready promptly."
I roll my eyes, irritated by the fact royal protocol is only followed when it is damn convenient for my Father. "Please tell me Dad isn't going to force me to follow royal protocol for what I wear."
My mother nods her head, "You still have to follow protocol, Anastasia, it's a royal event."
"I'm not wearing pantyhose, and this isn't a royal event, this is an announcement for whom I'm meant to be dating." I remind my mother of what today is about, it is thereby forcing me on a pedestal and narrating to the world that I am dating, declaring a soon to be engagement and crown take over.
"Anna—"
"No," I cut her off, "Unless you're going to tell me that we don't have to go through with this, then I don't want to hear another word," I bluntly reply, not having any regard for the fact that she is the Queen. If anybody else was to speak this way to her, they'd be calling for their heads.
My mother clears her throat and heavily sighs, "Your dress will be up in a minute, be ready to walk the gardens by three," my mother informs me with her soft-sounding voice before she walks out of my room, her heeled shoes sounding against the dark floorboards.
I shift back to gaze out the windowpane down at the terrains below me where shortly I will be thrown into the swarm of people who want to know every detail about me, but I don't have any details to bestow. The details I want to share, I am forbidden to. I never thought I would end up in a forbidden love just because of royal blood. But here I am, standing speechless with a mind overflowing with racing thoughts, contemplating on which Prince I should choose when ultimately, I should be talking to Harry; I should be choosing him.
♔ ♔ ♔
The gardens are bustling with people, the staff can't keep up with the demand of food and drinks, and the band is playing modestly enough for me to catch the melody of the birds sheltering in the trees, but loud enough for me to disregard the conversations around me that more than likely pertain to me. The bad thing about these events is the fact that more times than none, the conversations are about me, about the future of the crown or about the upcoming tours.
The shadow that has been lingering behind me since I stepped out of my room, steps closer to me as there is a gap between me and others.
For a moment, there is silence between us and it takes everything in me not to turn around and speak to him. I don't know whether he wants to speak to me, as I have said, we have barely uttered a word to each other, and to be honest, we both have every right to be avoiding each other. I have my reasons and he has his, but what good are any of the reasons to let them determine our relationship?
"You look cute wearing a hat," Harry comments while proceeding to scan every inch of the garden he physically can observe.
I stop to smell some of the roses before I turn to him, "It's a fascinator," I bitterly correct Harry, but I immediately retract my tone of voice, "But thank you. You look good in your suit." I dully compliment Harry.
"It's the one I wear all the time."
I nod my head, trying not to quietly chuckle at his smartass comment. I am well aware it is what he wears all the damn time. The man isn't one for change, he has been wearing the same cologne for years, his hair hasn't changed; I am pretty sure he has been going to the same barbershop since he was six. He quite literally has a wardrobe filled with the same attire. It is very rare I see him dressed any other way than in his typical black suit. I have suggested before he changes things up, perhaps change the white button-up for a maroon button-up, but he was not amused by my suggestion. "I'm aware. Must you be so close to me? I'm still upset with you." I mutter despite the fact I enjoy him being close to me.
I have missed him being close to me, I have missed him being with me as more than just my bodyguard; I have missed him, but I don't want to admit it, I can't admit to it.
"Princess, there are over 8,000 people here, of course, I have to, it's my job as your bodyguard... and as your boyfriend," he trails off in a whisper just for the two of us to understand as we walk closer and closer to other people in the gardens.
For a moment, I feel a sense of comfort.
After days of not knowing where I and he stand, it's reassuring to know he is still my boyfriend. Despite the fact that I am upset with him for embedding pressure on me due to particular circumstances, I feel more at ease knowing we are still together.
"Harry," I breathe out and he hums for me to continue but I can't find my words.
How do you tell someone you're in love with them when you're being forced to date someone else?
I want to tell him I love him, I want to tell him that we can pack a bag and run off to wherever we would be accepted. I want to tell him that I choose him, that I will choose him, over and over again. But I can't, I can't muster up the right words.
"I'd like space, please," I inform Harry, still uncertain of how to arrange my thoughts about the entire situation, especially today when in a few mere hours it will be announced that I have a boyfriend... and it isn't Harry.
"As you wish, Princess... space from me or everybody else?" Harry questions and I can't help but smile to myself.
I need space from everybody, but the soon to be Queen cannot lock herself in her room and ignore the royal duties or royal parties thrown at the palace. Space is something that is foreign in the royal family, everybody knows everything. Every move I make is reported back to the staff or the press, I am never truly alone. Even when sleeping there is a guard outside my bedroom, and although I am not complaining, on some nights my bodyguard is in my bed. I do wonder what it would be like to be alone, with no staff, no security, no press, no assistant, nothing; it would be blissful to be solely alone and left in peace.
I heavily sigh as I see the mother of one of the men who are on the list to date. "Need space from her?" Harry asks.
"Yes, but I'll allow this encounter, my father would be mortified if I avoided her," I respond, expecting Harry to take his usual step behind me, but he doesn't, he stays beside me.
Victoria wanders closer to me and grants me a smile, and for a moment I hope she marches past me, but she doesn't. "Anna, hello, darling," she's cheery and enthusiastic with her greeting.
"You curtsy to Princess Anastasia," Harry makes it a point to remind Victoria to be courteous and curtsy, also making a point that he doesn't like her being informal and calling me Anna. Nobody outside the family calls me Anna, it is informal and impolite. Harry, however, is the exception to the rule.
The woman narrows her eyes towards Harry as if an attempt to show dominance and superiority, "And who are you?" Victoria questions with a tone of voice that only indicates she's talking down to him.
I don't have to look at Harry to know he's more than likely giving her the glare that is a warning not to try him. "SO14 bodyguard." He bluntly responds. "Curtsey," He instructs in a firm manner.
He despises being questioned and talked down to, whether it be by Royals or by those who are considered normal.
"What level?" She inquests.
"None of your business." Harry sneers.
"Hm, I don't think I like your attitude, you won't be the bodyguard accompanying the princess and the prince when they're in public."
"My bodyguard doesn't change," I immediately inform Victoria who appears to believe her son is the chosen one. To be quite honest, I don't care who is chosen, Harry will not be going anywhere. No changes in my security will be made without my say.
Victoria can hire her own set of security for her son but she sure does not account for me.
"We'll see about that one," she mutters, looking Harry up and down, commencing to make me feel uncomfortable.
"Princess, you're needed by the marque of food, the Queen is requesting you," Harry informs me, cutting the conversation with Victoria short.
"I will see you for dinner with Prince Henry," Victoria informs me and I excuse myself politely and step away from Victoria.
I make my way towards the marque of foods that are set up meticulously. Garden Parties always consists of cakes, tea sandwiches, and sweet and savoury finger foods, all of which I am meant to avoid. It is not okay for me to be photographed eating, it isn't ladylike. Lucky for me, the staff make sure to put aside food for me in the palace, they always leave me with Scones with homemade Balmoral jam and clotted cream on top.
"Well, she's a royal bitch," Harry murmurs when there's nobody but the staff around us.
I glance over towards Harry and roll my eyes, "Be polite, she's still royalty."
"Mhm, a royal bitch," he nods, a clear indication he's pissed with such comments, and he has every right to be, "Does she think she can get me fired or moved from your service? Because I'd like to see her try."
"Harry," I sigh, "You're staying on my service, don't do anything, okay? Just stay with me."
"Oh, Princess," Harry grins, "I wouldn't want to go anywhere else."
"Harry," I narrow my eyes on him, "You know exactly what I mean."
"So I can't force you into a safety protocol the second she comes back around?"
I shake my head. "No."
"It won't be anything major, level one safety procedure."
"Don't start," I mutter, keeping an eye out for anyone who may get too close to hear the conversation. "The quicker this day is over, the better. It's bloody hot in this dress."
Harry smirks before he softly speaking, "Take it off?"
"Aren't we meant to be arguing?" I question, referring to the fact he has barely spoken to me and has been an outright asshole to me. I didn't start these issues and neither did he, but it doesn't mean he has the right to ignore me or be an arse.
"Anastasia, we can discuss the problems later in private. Must you hold such a grudge?"
"In case you forgot, Harry, you're the one who made it seem like you were breaking up with me over something stupid."
"You being in a relationship with some tool isn't something stupid. What's stupid is hiding our relationship for the sake of a fucking crown." Harry harshly whispers.
"That's no way to speak to a princess."
"You and I both know I'm not speaking to the princess right now. Are you doing this to aggravate me?"
"A little," I shrug, "But in all seriousness, we need to discuss things, okay?"
Harry nods, "You need to go back to your royal duties," Harry subtly gestures towards the crowds of people who are chatting away and enjoying the company of the royal gardens.
"Yeah, my royal duties of figuring out whether my father has chosen Theo or Henry as my boyfriend."
"Rub it in why don't you," Harry mutters unhappily, taking a step behind me and gesturing towards the path he wants me to take in order to get back to my duties.
I don't obey, I stand my ground and I turn to look at him. He clenches his jaw and he heavily sighs, "Anna, you're making my job difficult. I need to focus on this crowd, not our argument," Harry mutters, his eyes shifting like they always do.
I cock my head to the side, "What are you looking for? You're making me nervous."
"Looking at hands, eye contact, dress code of others, all signs of a threat, now stop and do your bloody job so I can do mine and keep you safe." Harry again gestures towards the path he wants me to take. "I will change my service if you continue to be defiant."
I shake my head, "No, you won't. You never let anyone take me at such big events."
"Anna—" Harry begins.
I cut him off, "I am going," I roll my eyes, noticing the fact he is getting highly frustrated with me at this very moment.
♔ ♔ ♔
I take a few steps behind me, well aware that Harry is always just a few steps behind me, I clear my throat, "Harry," I grasp his attention and he steps to the side of me.
"Princess?"
"H-Harry I-I'm scared."
"Of what? I'm right here, there is no threat," he assures me, but I shake my head.
It is a different type of fear. I'm not scared for my safety; I am scared of my heart falling in the hands of the wrong person, I am scared of my relationship becoming a failure. I'm scared of losing someone I love over something that I can't control. Everybody dreams of being royalty, they think it's all about pretty dresses and tiaras, what they don't see is the downfall of relationships because of a royal curse, also known as protocol and tradition.
"You know they're—— they're announcing things in a minute, and I... " I trail off in an attempt to find my words and perhaps a breath of relief, but I don't find the clarity and the air that I need.
"Breathe Anna, it's okay."
"No," I shake my head, "It isn't."
This isn't okay there is absolutely nothing okay about my parents trying to marry me off to someone I am not in love with. Royalty or not, there is more to marriage than a crown, and there is more to obtaining a crown than marriage.
Don't be fooled, with or without a man, I can run a monarch and do a damn good job at it. I don't need a King, but a King needs me.
"Your parents are right for making you choose a royal, sweetheart."
For a moment, I'm stunned that Harry is suddenly on board with me dating someone besides himself, I thought he would have fought a little harder. "I don't want that, Harry. I don't want Henry or the other guy."
"I can't give you what you deserve, you know that. Now isn't the place to discuss this. You're panicking, don't panic, it will be okay." Harry informs me, his eyes intently watching every person that walks past me.
He has a point, right now might not be the right place to discuss the matter, but when is the right time and place to discuss whether or not a relationship is worthy of continuance or not?
Is there ever a right place to discuss things?
My thoughts continue to spiral and the world around me feels as though it's spinning.
I look at Harry and his eyes lock with mine, "Anastasia?" he questions, stepping closer to me, overstepping the usual distance between bodyguard and princess, "Anna, are you alright?" He questions and I nod my head.
I'm not quite sure when life got so hectic, perhaps it was always chaotic and I just don't remember having to share the burden as much as I do now.
Growing up, I was told I'd grow up to marry a lovely prince where we'd get married at Westminster Abbey, we'd be welcomed and adored by the crowds of Britain and they'd accept my husband as King while I reign as Queen. But here I stand, in the middle of the gardens surrounded by people who have had too much of a say in my life from the moment I was born. Here I stand, watching as my father begins to introduce Henry as my boyfriend while the man I love stands behind me.
I take deep breaths, the summer sun shining down on me as the relentless heat continues to suffocate everyone. We are only on day two of this heatwave and I already want to whisk myself off to a cooler place, one where nobody will find me nor bother me for quite some time. I take a breathe and take my fascinator from my hair before turning to Harry. He raises a brow as he stands in his perfect stance, hands behind his back, his eyes aware of everyone's positions and his lips pursed into a fine line, his facial expression being of one that simply expresses nobody should fuck with him. "I need water, please," I softly inform him, beginning to fan my face with my fascinator, well aware that I am breaking royal protocol, it is impolite for me to do this, but with the weather spiking at a harsh thirty-five degrees Celsius, I have no choice.
Harry nods immediately and firmly, yet somehow gently grabs the arm of a waitress who I hadn't even taken notice of, "The Princess needs water right away," Harry instructs.
The woman nods and hurries off, "Be polite, Harry."
"Your Father is watching, turn around, Princess," Harry instructs, subtly gesturing to my Father who I can only assume is far from pleased with me.
I turn to watch my father as he begins to welcome the guests with his charming voice that the public relish hearing and so do other royals. He starts off lightheartedly joking, something he has grown to do a lot more lately in an attempt to show the public that he is still an ordinary man... Somewhat. The crowd laughs and I, too, have to fake a laugh. While the crowd laughs at the small jokes, my inner thoughts eat me alive with the idea that in just a few minutes, my father will announce my boyfriend, which will, in turn, send everyone into fits of happiness. It will be the only thing people talk about for quite some time, both within the royals and the public.
I continue to fan myself, struggling to cool down as this dress hugs my body. With every moment that passes it feels as though the dress gets tighter and tighter, and the sun gets hotter and hotter. I press my hand to my forehead for the moment and look down, closing my eyes briefly to shield them from the sun.
I feel a hand to my shoulder, "Anna, are you okay?" Harry questions and I nod.
"Yeah, it's just hot." I respond, "This announcement is killing me," I whisper and Harry takes a step back, going back to watching the crowd and doing his job.
I don't know what's worse, the fact that my father is nonchalantly entertaining everybody or the fact that I am the only one anxious and upset about everything. Harry is calm and collected, my mother, whom I can see in the corner of my eye, is content with a drink in her hand. Despite this being a dry party, I am sure there is some alcohol in her drink, I know my mother well, and I know deep down, she too, is dreading what is about to happen, as a mother she understands my outrage, but as Queen, she has to stand by her husband, and perform her duties.
I turn to Harry, my eyes feeling heavy as my chest rises; my chest feels as though it is fighting a heavy force over it with each breath. "Harry," I begin dryly, "Where's that water?"
"It's coming." He responds, his eyes darting around before he speaks into his shoulder, "The Princess needs water, now," he mutters, sending his orders out to not only the security staff but the entire palace of staff to make sure my requests are fulfilled.
Suddenly, I feel it all at once, the heat, the anxiety, the rush of everything hitting me at once. A turning pit in my stomach begins and my body feels heavy as if every inch of my body has a weight on it, weighing me down. I can feel my body wanting to sway from side to side. "Hey," I press my hand to his chest, closing the space between us, "I feel unwell," I confess, unsure of how to handle myself right now. "I'm—" I struggle to find my words, my world spinning as I try to focus.
"Fuck," Harry mutters under his breath, his arm wasting no time with wrapping around my body.
The last thing I remember hearing is Harry calling my name before he instructs nobody around us to move with a voice like bottled thunder, a measure of his vitality.
"Welcome back, Anna," Harry smiles the moment my eyes open, "Don't try to get up, just relax for a moment." Harry gently presses on my arm, stopping me from sitting up.
I listen and I take a breath, taking the time to look around, surprised that I'm not in the gardens like I was.
"What happened? Are we in the tunnels?" I ask, feeling the distinct change in air temperature. I went from scorching hot heat to mildly cool temperatures.
"Yes, and you fainted, why didn't you tell anyone you were unwell?" Harry asks.
"I did," I respond, slowly sitting up with the careful help of Harry, "I told you."
"Once it was too late," Harry mutters, "The doctor is waiting, I'm going to carry you through the next tunnel before we will enter your wing."
I shake my head, "I'm fine, really, I don't need a doctor."
"Protocol," Harry shakes his head, "Everybody saw, I can't hide this one, my love," Harry informs me and I sigh.
There are times Harry does his best to cover for me and to hide things from everyone. When the time calls, he will hide things from the media the best he can and he will leak a different story, other times he will hide things from the family and other royals. There have been numerous occasions he has had to cover for me as well, especially at events I don't want to be at.
"Why are we in the tunnels?"
"Well, I needed to get you away from everybody safely and it's cooler down here."
"Can we stay here for a moment?" I softly ask, taking note that for the first time this entire day, I have nobody around me, no maids, no royals, nobody that needs my attention. For the first time, I am finally alone.
Harry nods and he leans closer and pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear, "When I ask you if you're okay, I would appreciate if you were honest with me."
I nod in agreement, "I'm not okay, I don't want to do this, Harry."
"You don't want to do you and me?" Harry asks, assuming I'm referring to the relationship.
"No, I mean— I don't want to go ahead with all this bullshit, I don't want to be a princess, I want to be normal, why can't I just be normal?" I let out a sigh, "This would be easier if I wasn't Royal."
"Anna—"
"Don't Anna me, with that sweet, caring tone," I mutter, "Fix it."
Harry sighs and his eyes soften as he looks at me, "Baby, I can't fix this, I can't make you normal. If I could change things, I would, but I can't sweetheart."
"I wish things were different."
Harry nods, "Me too, we will figure it out, stressing is what got you in this mess," Harry gestures to the fact I am sitting on the cold stones of the tunnels instead of enjoying the garden party happening above us.
"You said you wanted to call for a protocol."
"Anastasia, not like this." Harry mutters unhappily, "At least you fainted in my arms and not to the floor."
"You'd have caught me either way," I respond, "You're the knight in shining armour."
Harry rolls his eyes, "Princess, you keep me on my toes, for sure," he leans closer and gently kisses my cheek.
"This dress needs to come off," I gesture towards the white dress that is not only heavy, but also becoming dirty.
Harry nods, "I need to get you to your wing, the Doctor is waiting," Harry informs me before he slides his arms under me and picks me up, carrying me to my wing.
♔♔♔
I lie in the comfort of my bed, Harry right beside me as a few staff roam my room, doing their best to stay out of the way but to stay close just in case they are needed for any reason. They are waiting for the commands from the doctor or Harry.
I overhear Harry's phone and I glance over at him, "If you need to go, you can go."
Harry shakes his head, silencing his phone before resuming his position beside me, making sure to stay the rigid bodyguard everyone knows him to be. It is times like this that I wish he didn't have to put on a show and stand there like my bodyguard, sometimes it would be nice to have my boyfriend even when people are around.
"This really isn't necessary," I sigh as the royal doctor stands by my bedside taking my blood pressure and doing god knows what else. "I really just need some rest." I continue, well aware of what caused me to faint. It is clear and obvious, the heat got to me, it didn't help that royal protocol had me in a damn dress that was tight and heavy.
"Let me be the judge of that, Princess Anastasia," she smiles softly down at me and I tilt my head to the side to look over at Harry. He's standing with his hands crossed in front of him, his eyes moving between me and the door ever so often.
"Who will be the main one staying with you?"
"Harry," I gesture towards him, well aware the King and Queen are far too busy with their current event. It would be rude for them to leave their guests unattended, and to be quite honest, I don't want to be around my parents.
"Mr Styles, I expect you'll make sure she stays in bed and rests for the remainder of the evening?" The doctor asks and Harry nods. "If she passes out again, she's to be taken to the emergency room, we will have staff waiting once given the call. Once the IV is done it can be taken out carefully, Watch to make sure she doesn't accidentally pull it out. Someone will need to make sure she stays hydrated the next few days with this heat."
Harry nods, accepting the instructions, "I'm trained in first aid, this one isn't my first rodeo with all due respect," he smiles at the doctor.
I mentally roll my eyes, doing my best to conceal my smirk. This man is trained in many areas, and he isn't afraid to make it known when he needs to. He has had training courses on everything from anti-hijack driving and unarmed combat to firearms handling and emergency life support. It is a bit of a turn on to know that he has many capabilities, even ones outside his job description.
"I know, it's a force of habit, I forget sometimes that you have watched over unwell royals before."
"Mhm," Harry hums, "Happens a bit with this one," Harry gestures towards me, "She can never stay out of trouble. Always has to leave with a bang." Harry chuckles, giving me a small smile.
♔♔♔
The moment everybody leaves my room, Harry closes the door behind them and I get comfortable between the soft sheets. For a moment, there is nothing but silence between us and I can't say that I am ungrateful for it. It is nice to have some silence.
"Would you like to talk, Anastasia?" Harry asks as he carefully sits on the bed and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"What about?"
"Today. Henry. All of it."
"Harry, what happens is up to you. You're the one that keeps saying my parents are making the right decision, you're the one saying it'll be okay."
"Sweetheart," Harry sighs, "You and I both know I'm not suitable for all of this, you don't want to tell them about us, so what is it you want to do?"
"I want to be with you."
"Well... how are you going to be with two men at the same time?" Harry asks and I look away from him for a moment.
I don't know how we are going to make things work, but when two people want something bad enough, they work for it, they fight for it and they do what it takes, even if it isn't easy. When two people love each other, they fight against all odds, they break through and take things on together. When summer ends and autumn befalls upon us, the once eminent and blooming flowers of the garden begin to wilt away, they leisurely but inevitably fade away from the unrelenting winter, but they don't give up. They come back to life once spring welcomes it's sunbeams and warms the cold world again.
When the gardens are struggling to bloom after a cold and frigid winter, all they require is some extra love and attention. This is what love is like. When it feels like everything is withering away, petal by petal, there is always a little extra care that can be given to bring it back to life, all it takes is someone willing to see how something can flourish again. Everything grows with love.
"My father has arranged this relationship with Henry... what if I carry along with it for a few weeks, give everybody what they want, make the public think he's the one, and then we break up?" I propose to Harry the only reasonable idea that I can come up with that doesn't include breaking up with Harry or breaking the publics hearts by refusing the crown.
"Anna, surely you're not suggesting you stage this charade of a relationship." Harry seems surprised by my suggestion.
"Do you have a better option? Shall we just run away together? Stage my own death, change our names and go where nobody knows me? Do you have anything else better, Harry?"
Harry heavily sighs, "I'm going to trust that you have this planned out, somehow... so I'm going to go along with it, but after a few weeks, you call it off with the tool, okay?"
"Okay," I nod, "Are you going to be okay?"
"I don't have a damn choice, Anna. I love you and if this is what it takes then so be it. It is better than you running off to god knows where and changing your name."
"We will go public once the Henry charade is over with, okay?"
"Okay," Harry nods in agreement with a heavy sigh before I take his hand and tug him towards me, wanting him to get in the bed with me. He shakes his head, "I can't, I'm on duty."
"Please?" I pout my lips, not caring that he is still technically on duty.
"Baby, if I get caught, I will be fired."
"But I feel unwell, we can't have the princess feeling unwell, especially when you can make it all better."
Harry rolls his eyes and takes a breath. "I hate when you do this," Harry mutters, taking his phone from his pocket, his fingers typing away, I can only assume he is about to make sure the head of security secures my wing and guards the door for us. "I am surprised I haven't gotten fired yet," He presses, placing his things down on the side table before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the delicate skin and tattoos he hides under the white button-down.
"They wouldn't dare fire you," I respond, gawking at him as he steps closer and I move to the middle of the bed, giving him room to slide in between the sheets and to take his position next to me.
Harry takes his position beside me, tugging at the covers before pulling me closer and draping his arm around me. I feel at ease with his arm around me. "How are you feeling, Anna?" His voice is soft and gentle and in a manner where I know he isn't asking as my bodyguard but as my boyfriend.
"I have an IV in my arm, three doctors on call and thousands of guests at my house, how do you think?" I respond.
"Do you ever give me straight forward answers?"
"No," I shake my head, "Keeping you on your toes is part of my job," I softly smile before I kiss his cheek. "I love you."
"I love you, too. But seriously, how are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," I assure him, "I just need to rest," I respond, noticing how tense Harry is and the way his hand is twitching.
I frown for a moment but ignore his restlessness as I curl up closer to him, finally feeling a sense of comfort.
I notice Harry fidgeting with the ends of the sheets, his fingers digging into the thread count while his foot is continuously moving under the sheet, almost as if in a tapping motion. Harry moves away from me, forcing himself to his feet as he reaches for his shirt. I look over at him, confused by his sudden movements. "Anna, do not move, do you hear me?"
"Harry—"
"Nobody has done a second sweep of the floor, don't move," Harry again instructs, not giving me time to even ask the questions I want to ask. He grabs his phone and conceals his pistol in the waistband of his pants, "You know where the spare is hidden, right?" Harry asks, referring to the spare pistol that he securely hid in my room as a safety precaution.
I nod my head, propping myself up on my forearms, wincing as I forget about the IV. "Don't worry, just lie down, don't pull that out." Harry huffs as he steps around the bed and takes my hand, checking the IV, he shakes his head and looks at me, "I just need to double-check nobody else is on the floor. Don't pull this out."
"Didn't someone already check before I came up here?"
"You know that I like to double and triple check, I will be back." He responds, walking out of my room and closing the doors behind him, leaving me to stay in my bed, alone like always.
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thedirtpreferences · 5 years
Text
Preference #10 - Labor on Tour (Requested)
Mick: “The real question is epidural or no epidural?” You couldn’t help but to giggle at Tommy’s question as you rubbed your hand across your belly, smiling when you felt your baby kick your hand. You were currently cuddled against Mick’s chest, chatting with the band as you traveled to the next destination for the next show. Where you had always been someone who hated riding in a car for long periods of time, you couldn’t help but to love the tour bus. Furthermore, it was more like a small home. There was always chatter, there was always laughter, and there was plenty of room to move around and breathe. Half the time you didn’t even feel like you were traveling when you were on it. And right now was no different; in fact you were perfectly content as you talked about your soon-to-be labor. “No epidural, I want it to be all natural.” Smiling proudly at your decision, you couldn’t help but to laugh as the three men in front of you winced at your words. “Mick, your girlfriend is fucking metal.” Vince stated very seriously as Mick rubbed the top of your shoulder and kissed the side of your head. “Seriously, man. If I was in a street fight and I had to pick one person to help me, it would definitely be her.” Tommy nodded in your direction as you rolled your eyes shaking your head. Although denying the epidural made you seem heroic and strong, you truthfully didn’t want it for a multitude of reasons. Reason one being that you had a sincere phobia of large needles, reason two being because of the health risks involved in having it, and finally reason three because you wanted to remember every single solitary part of the labor. Even though you had heard that child birth was the worst pain a woman could ever possibly endure, you were willing to take that risk. Furthermore, you wanted to remember every single, solitary aspect of the childbirth: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. Plus, you had experienced braxton hicks contractions in the past and they happened to be pretty mild. Surely labor contractions couldn’t be much worse, right? That is what you had originally thought, however, until you suddenly felt an extremely sharp tightening in your abdomen. “Oh, ow.” you muttered, sucking in a sharp breath as you leaned away from Mick, sitting up straighter than you had before. “What’s wrong?” Mick murmured, brushing the hair from the back of your neck as he began to rub small circles into your back. “The baby...Is just trying to get comfy I think,” hissing on the last word, your back arched as the feeling intensified. “Someone get her a water,” Mick instructed as he stepped in front of you, crouching so that your faces were eye level. “Hey...Are you okay?” Lifting your chin so that your eyes locked with his, Mick frowned when he saw the pain that swam in your eyes. As if the pain wasn’t already a dead giveaway, however, suddenly your clothes as well as your seat were drenched in  water; suddenly the unthinkable had happened. “Shit,” Your pupils dilated in distress just as Nikki approached you with the water, his own eyes widening in shock. “Nikki, I need you to find out how close we are to the next exit immediately.” Mick’s words were calm as he brushed your hair from your face, sighing in relief when he overheard the bus driver state that they were only a mile away from the exit. “Just hold off for a little bit longer, we’ll get you to a hospital immediately.” Nikki soothed you as he sat down next to Mick, handing you the water. “Hey, Tommy?” You winced in between contractions. “Yeah, Y/N?” “I think I changed my mind about the epidural.” Everybody laughed in unison as Mick leaned up to kiss the tip of your nose, smiling at your words. “I think you’ll thank yourself later.” He laughed. [I love Mick Mars sorry for getting carried away lol]
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Nikki: Pregnancy changed a lot about you. It changed your physical exterior, it changed the way your brain operated, it even changed your perspective on life; however, pregnancy did not change the constant urge you had to consistently stay busy. “Babe, you’ve got to sit down.” Nikki pleaded, cuffing his fingers around your wrist as you hastily walked past him. You were currently rushing around the dressing room helping the boys prepare for their performance by spackling their hair with hairspray, fetching them their choice of liquor, doing makeup, and making sure their attire was presentable. “I am, I am. I was just grabbing the stuff to do your makeup, I swear.” you reasoned, finally sitting in front of Nikki as you opened the blush compact. “I swear you were born to be a mom, the way you take care of us when in reality we should be rushing around making sure you’re the one being pampered.” Nikki marveled, as you swirled the plump brush into the bright particles your cheeks turning the same color as the material in the compact. You had been dating Nikki for years and now you were pregnant with his child, how was it that he was still capable of making you blush like the first time he laid eyes on you? You were convinced that he had some sort of invisible mind power over you. “Nonsense,” you murmured as you began to blend the makeup into his skin, smiling at the way it accentuated his bone structure. You never grew bored from doing Nikki’s makeup. Furthermore, it gave you the perfect excuse to stare intently at him for as long as you wanted. He was just so painstakingly beautiful; you couldn't believe that he was completely yours let alone the father of your child. How had you gotten so lucky? Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when a sudden rush of water began to gush from between your legs, soaking the chair beneath you as it leaked into your shoes. For once in your life, you froze. Becoming completely statuesque from the foreign feeling, the brush slipped from your fingers as it dropped to the floor with a light ‘thud’. “Babe, what’s wrong? What happened?” Nikki’s voice was tinged with concern as his hands frantically caressed the tops of your arms, then to your cheeks. Usually the touch of your boyfriend was able to break your concentration enough to talk to him about what was bothering you, but this time you stayed completely still eyes wide in alarm. “Y/N, you’re scaring me. Is it the baby?” Nikki’s voice broke on the last syllable, causing you to snap out of the shock. “My water just broke.” You whispered in alarm, as you eyes snapped up to meet his. For a second, you held each other's gaze completely astonished that the moment was finally here; then everything began to happen at once. It happened so quickly you weren’t even sure how it happened; all you remembered was Nikki shouting “I’m going to be a dad!” As you were rushed out the door.
-
Tommy: Tommy was starting to become silent. Not because he didn’t love you or he didn’t want to speak to you, but because he was truthfully becoming fearful of you. Furthermore, you were pregnant. Really pregnant; nine months to be exact. And not only were you extremely uncomfortable as your stomach was now ballooned to a whole new extreme, but your hormones were also exceedingly imbalanced as well. With one bad glance, you were biting off the heads of your peers then happy as a clam the next. And, unfortunately, Tommy was constantly on the receiving end of it. “Dudes, I am telling you she has become possessed by the devil or something.” Tommy warned his bandmates in a hasty whisper. “Man, she’s pregnant. Quit overreacting and suck it up,” Vince chided, smiling pleasantly at you as you suddenly approached the group. “Hello, Y/N.” Vince greeted you, flinching when you stared back at him coldly. “What’s everybody staring at?” You spit viciously between your teeth, your features menacing. “You, of course! You look ravishing, your pregnancy glow really makes you look radiant.” Nikki had tried to reassure you, but to no avail. “That’s hilarious considering I got three hours of sleep last night and just got done ralphing. Did I mention I still have acid reflux from the brownie I ate two days ago as well? Also, I’ve been  having braxton hicks contractions since my second trimester and today they are the worst they’ve ever been so tell me one more time that I look ravishing, Nikki, because I swear to god I’m not in the mood for compli-” Your threat came to screeching halt as the water began to trickle down your legs, drenching the lower half of your body. For a second, you had been completely convinced that Nikki’s compliment had got you so worked up that you had quite literally peed your pants. Then you realized; your water had just broke. Slowly raising your head mouth agape, you met Tommy’s shocked gaze. The room had become silent as the band slowly raised their eyes from the puddle on the ground to meet your astonished ogle. “I-I think my water just broke.” Once your words broke the silence, Tommy was by you in an instant shouting for Doc as he steered you out of the dressing room. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you anything before we head to the hospital? Should I call your parents? Mine?” The questions poured out of his mouth at an expeditious speed, a shaky hand raking through his hair the entire time. You could tell by the urgency in his tone that he was panicking, and for the first time in weeks you truly felt sorry for him. Suddenly yanking him to a stop, you pressed your palms to his cheeks and leaned up to press your lips to his gingerly. “All I want or need right now is you,” you breathed as Tommy nodded his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Now, let’s go have this baby.”
-
Vince: “That’s your Daddy, little one.” Rubbing your palm over your pregnant belly, you beamed as you watched Vince perform on stage. Every single, solitary day you thanked your lucky stars for being privileged enough to have him not only as a loving, supporting boyfriend, but now as the father of your child. Furthermore, Vince was everything and more to you. And watching him perform every single night only validated your feelings that much more. As great as Vince was as a performer, you got to enjoy the more intimate, personal parts of him; you got to be apart of a life of his that not a lot people got to be apart of and for that you personally felt enriched. That didn’t mean that you still couldn’t enjoy the stage aspect to Vince, however. Yes, even though you loved the family oriented part of who he was as well as the compassionate, romantic side of him, you still never grew tired of seeing him perform. Moreover, every single, solitary aspect to him screamed sex appeal. The way his skin glistened from the sweat, the way his voice rung out in his higher notes, the way he bucked his hips when he danced; everything was just so damn sexy. You weren’t 100% sure, but you figured a large percentage of you was so sex hungry for him because of your pregnancy hormones. The other part of you, however, accepted the fact that you had always wanted to rip the clothes off of him at the end of every concert pregnant or not. “You must like to hear Daddy sing too; you’re quite the kicker tonight,” moving your hand across your belly, you smiled as your baby kicked your hand each time you moved it. Where your baby had been a wiggler from the beginning, you couldn’t help but to realize that your baby was more active than usual tonight. It seemed like every five seconds or so, they were moving; adjusting. You almost wondered if they were starting to become impatient with the lack of space. “Holy,” your thoughts were instantaneously interrupted when suddenly a sharp, tightening pain erupted from the pits of your stomach. Dropping to your knees, you called out for Doc. A couple of roadies noticed you before he did, however, and rushed to get to him. In the meantime, you were suddenly kneeling in a pool of water bewildered on how things had happened so quickly. What you hadn’t realized during all of this, nevertheless, was that Doc had rushed onto the stage and pulled Vince telling him that you were in labor. “Sweetheart, hey…” Vince was at your side in an instant, kneeling down in front of you as your contorted face raised slightly too look at him. “H-hurts, baby is coming.” Just as the words escaped your clenched teeth, Tommy was suddenly rolling a wheelchair your way. Vince hooked his arms under yours, lifting you up in the chair as you let out another sharp gasp from the contraction. “We need to get her out of here, now.” Vince’s words were urgent as he began to wheel you down the hall, Mick on the phone with 911 in the background trying to call you a paramedic. Even though you had interrupted the concert, you couldn’t help but to feel happy that Vince was with you and the boys were just as supportive. In addition, you knew you weren’t going to be alone.
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athena1138 · 4 years
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work rant. tl;dr i’m unbelievably tired. 
Things are rough. Blatantly. There’s no other way to say it. 
My residents have been locked in their rooms for 10 weeks now, the first 2 of those because one of them brought in a rotovirus that spread like wildfire (even to me.) 
I get they’re depressed and lonely and tired and jittery. But I’m over it. 
We have one lady who’s literally on her death bed because she stopped taking care of herself. Right now I think she has a UTI because she’s getting up to pee four times an hour. It wouldn’t be a problem for us except that she leaves the light on to get back in bed “because she’s worried about falling” (nevermind she has never once fallen in my 7 months working here,) so she pages us to come turn it off. Four times an hour. Tonight, I said I wasn’t having it. The girl before me had almost had a breakdown trying to keep up with her, but this was her first night dealing with it because she’s been off. Not me. I’ve had four nights dealing with this. So tonight, the lady paged around 11:50 for her light. Fine. In and out. There were a lot of dishes left out in the hall from dinner, so I grabbed a cart and started picking them up. Literally 4 minutes after I left her room, she paged again. Nah. No. She can wait until I’m done, because I know it’s her light. She literally only pages for her light. 4 nights and dozens of pages have cemented this fact for me, so I’m not worried about making her wait a few minutes. 
It took me 10 minutes to gather all the dishes, get them rinsed, an rack them so they’re ready for washing in the morning. Within those 10 minutes, she paged FOURTEEN TIMES. FOR HER FUCKING LIGHT. I’m trying to be calm. I’m trying not to get mad. She can’t help it. She’s got very bad dementia, she doesn’t realize how often she’s doing it. But holy fucking shit. We’ve tried talking to her daughter, but she won’t do anything. She’s only come in 2x to get her up and walking around. Like, yes, she needs exercise, but she needs to go to a doctor, too. She also needs a night light because she keeps asking us to leave lights on but the only light she can stand is from her window which i still too dark. I’ve tried literally anything else I could think of--oven light, TV on mute, cracking the bathroom door, moving the bullshit little blue light in her bathroom, nothing. No. Daughter won’t get it. 
So there’s that. 
We also have a resident who is, quite frankly, an asshole. I can’t stand him. He has done nothing but bitch since lockdown started. 
What kills me is that it’s not even things that he used to bitch about. Before, he never ever ate kitchen food except breakfast. He ate lunch and dinner from his own food. Well, since lockdown, he has been getting trays. But he’s bitching about the trays. He’s bitching about being given soup he didn’t ask for, about food being gross, about this, about that, and it’s like dude. Don’t fucking order it if you don’t fucking want it. But it’s not just that. He went to the hospital last week and came back today, and he threw a HUGE fit because he’s missing 2 newspapers. Like, he made the girl working cry, and she doesn’t fucking cry. He’s blown up at me before because there was no jelly on his table for breakfast and that’s not even my fucking job, but when I told him that we were out of it, he yelled at me more about “You can’t fucking order enough food for 40 fucking people? What kind of a place is this?” THEN LEAVE. IF YOU’RE SO GODDAMN MISERABLE, LEAVE. Or he’ll come out and look out the front windows at night, which, whatever. Doesn’t bother me much. Except every other night he’ll ask if the storage room is open and I’ll say no, but I can open it for him, and he says no and just goes back to his room. Like??? Why’d you ask??? 
My favorite guy has always reminded me of No Face because he’s tall and doesn’t really know what’s going on, but these last few weeks, he’s just. I can’t even explain it. It’s like he’s empty. His dementia has gotten so bad. He’s stopped flushing his toilet, we think he’s peeing on his laundry, his speech is almost imperceptible he’s so quiet, he’s lost weight which is scary because he was already so skinny. 
We have another dementia dude who had hip surgery a little over a month ago, and his aids are BITCHES. We HATE them. We’ve been fighting with them for weeks. They went fucking 3 weeks without giving him a bath or telling us he wasn’t getting a bath, so his skin is terrible. He’s itchy all the time, so they’re saying that it’s his pain medicine which is causing it, which isn’t true. They’re trying to keep him doped up so they don’t have to deal with him, but since we told our boss about it and he talked to theirs, they all of a sudden don’t want us giving him it anymore. All of a sudden, the pain meds make him itch and “are what caused his dementia” and make him dizzy. But none of that is true. He has other people who come in to help him, plus we see him and we’ve known him for months, and we all see that it’s bullshit. But they’re still here. And they have the gall to tell us how to do our jobs. They’re not nurses, they’re not RAs, they’re just random ass people their boss found. One is a high school dropout (not that there’s anything wrong with that, but considering that she’s talking about medical things, it’s relevant,) and the other thinks she knows what she’s talking about because she drove the bus for our neighboring facility. From which she got fired. For being a dick to her passengers. They’re like, “Well he needs his medicine at 6, not 8.” No, he doesn’t. This is when he’s had it for months. “You need to do this.” McFuckinScuse me? Ohohoh, and the kicker? They’ve been saying he’s “end life” since his surgery. Even though he’s not in pain, even though he’s much, much clearer because he got new anti-psychotic medication, even though he’s so much better now than he ever has been. Like. I’ve never been in a fight. but I’m gonna throw hands. 
And we have people bitching about every little thing. Their breakfast arrives cold. Well, you have a microwave, we can’t keep it all hot because we deliver it by floor, not by room. They weren’t abiding the 6-foot-apart rule so we had to take out the furniture in the living room and outside, so they’re acting like children and saying shit like, “Well we’re jut going to sit in our walkers anyway.” Which we can’t do anything to stop them but like. Whatever. We have to spray down our mail and newspapers with our sanitizing gun before we can deliver it, so Every. Single. Morning. we get a phone call from one resident in particular who just angrily demands, “WHERE’S MY PAPER” and then hangs up. EVERY GODDAMN MORNING. LIKE DUDE YOUR FUCKING PAPER WILL BE THERE CALM THE FUCK DOWN. 
Do you know how many fucking times we’ve been asked, “Well when is all this gonna end?” At least 5x a day, depending on the shift. I’ve even been asked on the midnight shift a couple of times. We don’t know when it’s going to end. We don’t control when it’s going to end. If you have a complaint, take it to our boss because we’re busy doing 3x the workload for the same fucking pay. One woman comes down every morning at 7:23 to see if the dining room is open yet despite the fact that we’ve told her it won’t be for several more weeks at least, and another lady is literally standing in the hallway for her breakfast before we’ve even started fucking making it. 
And it’s just. It’s all day. All day there’s someone bitching about something insignificant, and it’s ridiculous. We have residents forgetting their children’s names, residents struggling to thrive, residents literally on the verge of dying, but everybody else is wasting our time with their petty and childish complaints about things which are meant to protect them, about things that we don’t have the power to change. 
I just want to scream. I want to scream and cry and sleep for a solid week. And what makes it worse, what just turns this from a bad situation into a terrible goddamn nightmare is the fact that this is going to have to go on even longer because our government is so caught up in the idea of working us to death to profit itself that we’re opening everything up too fast and all this is going to start all over again. 
The RAs are stir crazy, but at least we get to leave. We get to go outside, go home, maybe go hit a drive through or a gas station. When I say people have been locked in their rooms for 10 weeks, I mean people haven’t fucking stepped out into the hallway for 10 weeks. Some have. Some have been to see their neighbors, some have gone out, like they’re allowed (but if they go out, they’re under 14 day quarantine meaning they can’t leave their rooms unless they’re leaving again,) but I don’t think a good 1/3 of these people have even been outside to enjoy the sun. In 10 weeks. 70+ days. So I understand the crabbiness. I do. I don’t appreciate it, especially not directed at us, but I understand it. I’m just. So tired. And there’s so much left to muddle through still. 
If I believed in a god, I’d say “God help us when we have to announce our extended lockdown,” but it’s a lawless universe without a master, so there’s no hope. We’re just fucked. We’re all so, so tired. 
Please. Just please. Stay home. 
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presleepthoughts · 5 years
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Please update powerless. Or post whatever. Something from you always makes my day complete. 😊
Thank you so much for the support. 😘 Ps.: I think this is my 100th post. Huh. 
Powerless - Chapter 5
The bistro was relatively busy when Beca steppedthrough the door. She spotted familiar faces among the crowd, groups of highschoolers spending the afternoon eating ice cream sundaes and burgers, livingtheir perfect, cliché lives of an American teenager. Beca wanted to vomit atthe thought and tried her hardest to pretend she didn’t want to be exactly likethem. Where her biggest problem would be finishing the assignments in time andwin the football championship. Instead of avoiding to go home to escape the torturethat waited for her for as long as she could remember.
Her fingers unconsciously shifted over the roughsurface of her wrist, feeling the marks decorating the skin. Ever since thefootball game, the dots remained bulging red with blue outline but the pulsingstopped. Beca didn’t feel pain but felt an energy in her body that she hasnever felt before. Her muscles were hardened and her senses sharpened to theextremes, scaring her to death. And when feeling nothing like herself wouldn’tbe enough, the fact that she was able to literallyclimb up the walls and into her bedroom, beating up two men twice her size thenext morning…she didn’t know what to do.
She didn’t attempt to test out the weird powers shesuddenly possessed but something in her gut hinted that this problem wouldn’tbe solved by her habits of ignoring it until it went away.
Glancing around the room, a familiar red hair stoodout among the people, sitting in the back corner. She was surrounded by herfriends, her usual crowd…the jocks and the cheerleaders. On top of everything,Beca didn’t know why she accepted Chloe’s invitation to the burger place afterschool. She was never the one to try and become popular. She hated exercisingand becoming a cheerleader was literally her worst nightmare so she wasautomatically labeled as an outsider. Her wardrobe didn’t include any color andher sarcasm was at all time high which meant pushing people away.
“You know you can’t just stand here forever.” Stacie’svoice broke through her thoughts as the girl appeared behind her. “It’s notthat big of a deal so don’t make it one.”
Beca frowned at the accusation that she wasoverthinking – even though she totally was – and scrunched up her nose. “Shutup. I just don’t do this type of stuff. I don’t know anybody there.” She liftedher finger in the direction of the group.
Stacie titled her head. “They’re not that bad. Andbesides, you know me and Chloe. That’s enough to get through the awkward firstintroductions.”
“I barely know Chloe.” Beca puffed, glancing at herbest friend. Stacie flashed her a smile.
“But you want to.”
Beca remained stubbornly quiet, refusing to answer andgive Stacie more material to continue teasing. “Aubrey won’t be happy that I’mhere.” It was glaringly oblivious that Aubrey didn’t like her. To be fair, thegirl tried to do everything by the book. Be the captain of the cheerleaders,date the captain of the football team, have straight As, be blonde and skinnyand Beca understood why she didn’t try to befriend her. Aubrey and her…justdidn’t make sense. And when the blonde heard the rumors of her drug addiction,the distance grew twice of its size.
“Let me handle Aubrey.” Stacie commented, a knowingsmirk gracing her lips and Beca wondered what that was all about. “Now come on.”Grabbing her by the elbow, Stacie easily maneuvered them further into the roomuntil the two girls reached the sitting booth. Chloe’s head was the first to belifted as she spotted the new comers and a smile appeared on her face.
“Hey, guys.” Her tone was cheerful enough completelyopposite of Aubrey’s slowly growing frown. “I thought you were going to stoodme up.” The playful tease made Beca take in a deep breath as Stacie repliedback in the same manner before introducing the brunette. 
Everybody appeared tobe nonchalant – or dare Beca say nice – towards her but the brunette stillremained a bit cautious. She ended up being pushed into the booth by Stacie andsomehow – by the grace of God - landed besides Chloe. The redhead let out agiggle when Beca clumsily fell halfway onto her lap before she quicklyscrabbled back and pretended that nothing happened.
“Are you okay?” Chloe lowered her voice as the otherspicked up the conversation again, her eyes roaming over Beca’s posture.
Beca felt heat on her cheeks and replied back with anod. She could still see Chloe’s curious smile before the redhead finallyturned away and Beca could breathe again. The conversation carried on – Becaopting to stay silent – but Stacie chatted away happily, trading stories aboutclasses and the latest game. The jocks’ proud, cocky smile would’ve bother Becabut she suddenly found herself distracted when she caught Aubrey’s gaze on her.The blonde was staring at her strangely before she quietly asked Chloe toaccompany her to the bathroom.
Beca watched them go toward the front and saw thebathroom door close behind them before she sighed, a weird feeling in her gut.
“What is she doing here?”
Beca snapped her eyes back to the group but nobody waspaying attention to her. She frowned in confusion.
“What do you mean? I asked her here.”
By now, Beca’s head snapped back and forth and aroundthe restaurant as she heard Chloe’s voice but the redhead was nowhere in sight.What was happening?
“You know she’s bad news, Chloe.” Was that – Aubrey? Beca felt her heartbeat thumping loudly in herchest as her ears zeroed on the conversation happening 50ft away, behind aclosed door, in a busy bistro. Her hands started sweating as energy filled herbody.
“I don’t believe in rumors, A. She’s a nice girl and Ithink I want to be her friend.”
Beca turned to the group, hoping with every fiber ofher being that they were experiencing the same thing but nothing was out ofordinary. Stacie was still talking, laughing at some stupid joke while Beca’smind worked overdrive.
“You didn’t even know she existed two days ago!”Aubrey’s voice was full of frustration as she desperately tried to make herfriend understand. Beca gripped the side of the table.
“That’s not true! I just never talked to her and Idon’t know why!” Chloe burst out and Beca winced. “Stop trying to play the meangirl, Aubrey. You are nothing like that and I’m tired of watching you try tobecome one.” Silence followed the argument and Beca desperately tried toconvince herself that she was just imagining the whole thing. Because if thatwas real and Beca actually heard every word…
She hastily slid out of the booth, panicking beyondbelief as she wanted to crawl out of her skin. The marks on her wrist startedpulsing and she yanked her sleeve down to cover it. Stacie noticed her suddenmovement and stopped.
“…Beca?”
Her voice groggily reached her ears but Beca could donothing to stop the panic welling up in her. She needed to get out. Now.
Her feet carried her automatically toward the exit,without saying a word to the others and Beca vaguely heard Stacie call outafter her but she couldn’t stop. Everything that happened was finally catchingup to her and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have anybody to talk to.How could you try to explain something to someone when you don’t evenunderstand it yourself? She was completely alone.
She pushed her way through the tables as fast as shecould but in her haste, she wasn’t aware of her surroundings until thecollision was made. It snapped her out of her thoughts when she registered redlocks and realized that Chloe was falling to the ground before her. Herinstincts kicked in and she grabbed the girl by her waist before either of themknew it. Chloe’s eyes were wide in surprise and bewilderment.
“Woah! Wh-“ Chloe stuttered but Beca didn’t sayanything. She let her go and ran out of the bistro.
But Chloe wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Beca! Wait!” She yelled after her but she didn’tstop. “Where are you going? What’s wrong?”
Beca’s eyes stared forward, her chest heaving up anddown as her fingers tensed into fists. The fresh air did nothing to calm downher thoughts as she moved further and further away with no destination in mind.She just needed to move.
But suddenly a hand on her elbow halted her and sheinstinctively yanked out of the hold. Her pupils were dilated and she knew sheprobably looked crazy but she couldn’t think rationally.
Chloe took a step back in fear. “Are you okay?”
Beca’s chest moved up and down rapidly as her fingersswept through her hair. “I – I don’t know.”
The fear in her eyes was replaced by concern as Chloetilted her head, trying to catch her eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened? Beca,you’re shaking.”
“I just – I don’t know! I don’t know what’s wrong!”Beca yelled out suddenly and Chloe winced. “I – I need to go. I can’t be here.”
Chloe reached forward again. “I can’t let you – “
“Just leave me alone, Chloe!” Beca screamed back andstarted backing up. “I don’t need your help. I just need to be alone.”
The redhead could do nothing but stand nailed to the groundas Beca’s face hardened and turned on her heels, sprinting away as fast as shecould.
None of them noticing a black van parked a few feetaway with two men inside watching and waiting for the right time to attack.They watched as Beca rounded the corner and Chloe slowly turned back to thebistro and disappeared through the doors. One of them smiled.
“Notify the boss to prepare the lab. We got her.”
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When were you gonna tell me? - Will “Ironhead” Miller x OC - Part II (Final)
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A/N: I know, it’s huge hahah. I just get really excited when I write these weird stuff, so please, don’t give up on me xxx
Genre: Angst
Word count: 6409
Writer: Lari
After the bath, Diana went to the kitchen and found Will in his underwear, preparing something that smelled really good. She smiled, looking at his broad back and other well-defined parts of his body that got her a little flushed.
As she stepped into the kitchen for a moment to get close to him and hug him behind his back, Diana smelled something that made her be suddenly nauseous. At the moment, she didn’t even realize it was the bacon, so quickly the sensation of bile rising in her throat overwhelmed her. Will was still on his back, but he noticed barefoot movements hurrying through the house and became immediately alert.
As he looked back, Diana was no longer there, but he saw her shadow as she ran up the stairs. He immediately ran after her, aware of all the places where he had left some weapon - fire or white weapon - hidden in the house, mulling the possibilities. But when he got upstairs, he saw the bathroom door opened, and Diana was crouched in front of the toilet, toilet paper covering her mouth. When she saw him, she discharged, sitting on the lid of the vase soon after.
Will felt the relief and frustration plague him, and he didn’t know whether it was good or bad. As much as he was accustomed to living normally again, simple things like this that wouldn’t lead anyone to imagine escape routes left him agitated. Diana knew this, she knew and feared that he might suspect something, but right now she just wanted to try to make her stomach stop spinning.
“You’re all right, darling?”, Will asked, approaching her and crouching in front of the vase, his hands on her thighs.
"I don’t know, all of a sudden ...", she tried to think quick, for she was afraid he’d end up putting things together. "I think it was the apple pie I ate at Deli's today.". Will gave her a worried look, so she knew he believed.
"That's why I say that I should always take something from home to eat in the interval between college and work," he said, stroking her face as he stood up and held out her hand. "Come on, maybe eating something is gonna help you out.”
"No!", she said, perhaps a little too quickly, remembering the smell of bacon and already feeling her stomach wanting to wrap again. "It's just that I totally lost my appetite," she explained, standing up and ignoring the headache that started. .
Will sighed briefly, since he didn’t like to eat alone, but he didn’t want to be inconvenient; he knew vomiting would leave anyone unsettled.
“I’m sorry, honey. I swear I’ll make you a massage before sleep”, she proposed, seeing the trace of a smile come to his face. Will just nodded, taking the toilet paper from her hand and heading for the trash.
"All right, I need to go and finish everything up first" he said. Diana assented, going to the bedroom, still a little dizzy, and didn’t notice when Will left the bathroom only a few minutes later.
***
The week was passing faster than Diana would like, with her practically doing everything on the automatic. She could barely concentrate on class or writing her thesis – no matter how much the library was a quiet, perfect place to study. Instead, she ended up researching ways to stop the pregnancy - not that she really wanted to get to that point. Until one day, that same colleague who had helped her a few days earlier to clean the glassworks, dragged a paper with a telephone number down the lab bench at the end of the day.
"You can call with no worry, they have all the information you need" she said, as if passing the number of a good hairdresser. "It's reliable and well-structured.”
Diana was stunned for a few seconds until she understood, not quite sure how to respond even then.
"I know how it is, and you must be wondering how I found out. I've behaved just like you, and I know exactly what it's like to feel the gut shrink with the smell of ethyl alcohol, "Diana realized at once. She felt really bad at the smell of ethyl alcohol and was afraid of going through another episode of vomiting, so she abruptly walked away, trying to go to the bathroom. Fortunately, the nausea passed as she moved away from the strong scent, but she still passed away from the bottle all day.
"What makes you think I don’t want to have the child?" Diana asked, still confused.
"Because I've been through a situation almost like yours, Diana," she said, smiling slightly. "If you don’t want to, just throw it away," she said, nodding, saying good-bye and walking away.
Diana went the whole way home thinking about that piece of paper with the damn number. It wouldn’t hurt to call, right? Still, even though she knew it was her body, it felt like she was doing something wrong - like she was stealing someone.
As soon as she got home, Will hadn’t arrived yet, she ran to their room, locked the door and picked up the cell phone, dialing the number fast, before she changed her mind.
The call was surprisingly quick, even though the girl on the other end of the line explained pretty much the whole operation of the clinic. Diana said only a few words – at least until the attendant said she would give her a call to make an appointment.
“No!”, Diana replied, suddenly euphoric.
“What?”
"No, you don’t need to call, I really don’t ..." and then she heard the door of the leaving room get opened. Terrified, she just hung up the call at once, unlocking the bedroom door and running into the bathroom.
Diana quickly took off her clothes and slipped under the shower. She took several deep breaths before hearing the front door being opened. Will would notice her tension as soon as he saw her, so she needed to calm down as quickly as possible.
But Will didn’t show up in the bathroom - asking if he could come in and smiling, as usual. She finished the shower and he was lying on the bed, without his shoes and T-shirt, only socks and pants.
"Everything ok, love?", Diana asked, wrapped in the towel and her hair dripping around the room.
"Yeah, just a bit tired" he answered, eyes closed and a relaxed frown.
"I can imagine, you have to train everybody in that place" She went to the wardrobe and took the first old T-shirt she found, wearing a comfortable pair of panties right after. Will smiled a little.
“Yeah, but I? like it”. He sat for a few moments, then stood up, paused for a quick kiss, and headed straight to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before Diana joined him, but she still seemed cautious as she entered the kitchen, fearing that the meal would involve bacon again.
In the end, the dinner was composed of Bolognese pasta, with grated cheese and a light salad. Diana ate as never before, repeating twice, feeling her stomach fully muffled as she headed to the living room, with Will just behind her.
They both lay down on the couch, Will behind, forming a large protective blanket in a warm shell and - best of all -, flooded by his scent. Diana barely paid attention to what was on television - she barely noticed any of the conversations that Will was pulling on, she was so sleepy and she felt so comfortable nestled in his body that she didn’t feel it when she fell asleep.
It wasn’t long before he realized she had slept - her eyelashes touching her cheekbones, flushed and soft, and the small lock of hair that threatened to slide down her forehead. He knew she was strange, but he wasn’t the kind of person who simply demanded the truth - he likes when she just tells him because she wants, because she feel that she can because she trusts him. That is enough for him. He knew she was waiting for the right moment, so he just had to wait too.
When he realized that it was late, Will turned off the television and slid his arm slowly, pulling it out from under her head. Then, he managed to get off the couch, in a process that involved many uncomfortable positions. He watched her for a few moments, smiling a little, and only woke her up enough to warn her that he would pick her up.
Diana barely answered, just grunted, allowing him to carry her, leading her to the bedroom. The cuddle had its continuation, and Diana slept better than all the days after the discovery.
***
The next day was a complete disaster.
Diana slept so much and so well that she simply missed the time to get up. She barely remembered Will taking her to the bedroom, and when she realized, it was past 8 o'clock, and he probably had missed the first whole class.
When she arrived at the university, she noticed that she had forgotten the damn cell phone at home, so that she could barely even know the time.
At work, she was so distracted and slightly stressed that she couldn’t do half the things she needed – and, for a change, she was pretty busy that day.
Coming home was like the end of a marathon, and Diana almost literally walked through the door, as if it were the tape at the end of the start, and threw herself on the floor, mentally exhausted - apart from being pregnant and not knowing what to do to consume her every second of the day.
The room was dark, but the door was opened. In her sense of relief she hadn’t realized that, but when she threw the keys on the little table and hung her coat on the hook, she realized that it should be locked; and that if Will had arrived, he’d have lit at least the light of the living room, as he always does.
A little worried and feeling a slight pressure in the pit of her stomach, she walked slowly and as quietly as she could, reaching the entrance to the room.
"When were you gonna tell me?", Diana was so frightened that, if it wasn’t for the darkness, she’d be sure she got a little dizzy. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the gloom yet, but she would recognize Will's voice anyway. And the one he was wearing at the time was one of his worst.
Diana didn’t know what to answer. She knew what he meant when she noticed his tone, she knew he somehow figured it out, but she wouldn’t be hypocrite to ask "tell what?".
"Diana, when were you going to tell me?". She tried to remain calm, but she knew she was about to have a long and complicated conversation.
"Can I at least turn the lights on?", she asked, looking for the switch. When she lit them, she saw the expression on his face and almost turned them off again. His brows were furrowed and his teeth clenched like when they were in bed, in a moment and context much better than the actual.
A disturbing silence crept between them, shivering, spreading fire. Diana looked deep into his eyes and knew that fury wasn’t simply because he had discovered about the pregnancy.
“What happened?”, she asked, holding her breath without realizing it. Will threw her cell phone on the sofa, hard, never taking his eyes off her. Suddenly, the meaning of the nickname "Ironhead" seemed to fulfill its concept to her.
"Alice is very nice. She said there's a chance you can make an appointment with Dr. Norman, if you'd like to schedule”, he wasn’t a bit sarcastic - Will wasn’t like that; not in situations like this. He always relayed things in a less conventional way, always leading the other person to realize what it did.
Diana felt as if her guts were shrinking and fading away, also taking the air out of her lungs. She had never asked that young lady to call if something came up, she even remembered her name!
“Will…”
“You can talk.” Diana couldn’t understand what happened that, every time Will gives her the opportunity to explain herself in a discussion, she always seems to forget all her arguments.
"I didn’t mean to actually take it off, I never meant it. God, I don’t even know why I called!”
"But you did”, when he was like that, his word were sharp and straight as a knife. “How did you get the number?"
"Is that relevant at this point?" Will just remained silent, staring at her. She swallowed. "A woman at my job, I didn’t even say I was pregnant, she just gave me the number without even knowing if I wanted to have the kid or not.”
“She had her confirmation. Do you want to have this child?”
Diana suddenly fell silent, not knowing what to answer.
“Diana…”
"I do not know, Will, I have no idea.”
"Then why did you call a clinic like that?"
“I was just trying to evaluate the options…”
"Is that an option?"
"How could you question me like that? Do you want to have a baby so much? You want me to just drop everything and...”
"No, Diana!", he didn’t scream, but his voice grew louder and she fell silent instantly. Will had never talked to her like that. "That's not the point, and you know it." He ran a hand through his hair, nervously. "You didn’t think to tell me? Wasn’t that one of your options before you called a fucking clinic?”
Diana remained silent.
"No, having children is not my big dream, but I would never not want it if it happened. God, that's not even the point! You got pregnant with me, Diana, the person you say you love, and didn’t cross your mind telling me? Not even for a second? We could’ve decided what to do next; I would never impose my will for you to have that child if you didn’t want to, I don’t even have the right to do that - the most I could do would be trying to convince you, but I would never make you feel bad for not wanting to continue. Instead, you don’t even know how to answer that question, you're not even sure if you really want a child, but before you even tell me, Alice fucking knows all your anguish? I’m what here, an ornament where you can ease the tension while hiding everything from me?”
Will didn’t like to be like this. He never got that way, not anymore, because it reminded him of a time when controlling himself was something difficult; and losing everything he built so hard was a fear he had every day. Especially with her.
But the pain hit him good. He gave her the space and comfort she needed to tell, didn’t want to press her, even when he saw the tests thrown into the bathroom trash the day she supposedly had eaten something bad at Deli's. He always tried to be as sincere and direct as possible, but without ever being too harsh; something that he took years to learn, getting better in every discussion, every disagreement.
Apparently, none of his efforts was reciprocal.
Will didn’t wait for her answer. After a quiet and corrosive pause, he took his jacket and headed to the front door.
"Will, please don’t go like this," Diana barely noticed when the tears began to stream down her face.
"I can’t stay here, Diana. Not now," he said and left, slamming the door behind him.
***
The night was cold, but Will didn’t even feel the icy air against his face. He went out - angry, yes, but more than that: upset, betrayed. He barely knew where he was going when he started the car and took it out of the garage, just letting himself go in the automatic; and he wasn’t surprised when he reached the front of Benny's house. The living room lights were on.
He knocked on the door, his heart beating fast, uncontrolled.
Benny answered on the second beat.
"Dude, bells exist, you know", he said, before noticing the congested expression on his brother's face. “What happened?
“Can I come in?”, Will asked first, uneasy, not wanting to say anything out there. Benny just stepped back and let him settle down on the living room sofa.
"Samantha isn’t here", Benny informed him as he picked up the wisky bottle and two glasses. He knew that information would be totally random in another context, but at that moment it meant that Will wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else in the house, whatever it was.
Will usually don’t drink, but he accepted the dose Benny offered under the condition of being the only one. Everything he didn’t need at the moment was to get drunk. It would only make things worse.
"Diana is pregnant," Will revealed as Benny sat across from him on the coffee table. He nodded. “Did you know?”
"She told me when we met at Deli's earlier this week," he answered. "But I know you wouldn’t be pissed off for that."
Will took his drink.
"She forgot her cell phone at home today." It took him a while to get it into words – all that had hit him in a very gross way. “A clinic called her today, saying they were available to make appointments.”
"But isn’t it normal? If she’s pregnant she has to do all the exams and ... ", he didn’t have to look twice in his brother's eyes to understand what kind of clinic that was. “Holy shit, Diana!”, he stood up from the coffee table, sitting down next to Will.
“Yeah”
"She was very worried the day we met. I told her to talk to you first! The damn woman never listens to me.”
"I don’t know-“, Will's feelings and the way he shows it (whatever it is) is not  explosive and spontaneous like Benny; they keep boiling inside him, dragging everything, intense and silent, like a tsunami in the distance. "It's more than anger, it’s ... Does she not even trust me to decide the fate of a child? Your child? Do you understand what that makes me feel?”
"I can imagine", Benny said, saddened by his brother. "A piece of shit.”
“Exactly” Will, who was sinking more and more into his sense of invalidity, just ignored his promise and picked up the wisky bottle again.
***
The hours were passing and Diana sank into a sea of ​​anguish and felt the guilt pull her foot harder toward the bottom. Why, when we're doing something totally stupid, don’t you realize it? She thought, annoyed. Why does it have to be always after, when you already hurt who you love?
She couldn’t get along with Will outside the house, especially in this situation, so she paced up the house, impatiently. She tried to eat, but she wasn’t hungry. She tried to watch something on the television, but nothing attracted her attention - actually, it made her stay even more impatient. Then, she decided to fill the tub and stay in there indefinitely.
She stepped into the tub, into the warm, inviting water, and waited for at least some of the tension to ease up. She felt the foot of her belly a little rigid and a trail of colic threatening to start, but she ignored it simply because she believed that bathing would solve everything else.
The bath was supposed to be relaxing, but it only served to make her stand still and think about what she should’ve done and how Will looked hurt when he left. The feeling that she was the worst person in the world and the harsh, sad expression on his face only helped her to get more anxious, so she decided to get out of that damn bathtub and put on a nightgown - if she could sleep, she wouldn’t be reflecting on it all the time, at least.
In fact, Diana didn’t know what was her big mistake that night.
He didn’t know if it had been the decision of bathing and think about all the mistakes she made, or getting out of the hot tube to the cold weather so abruptly.
What she knew was that, while she was putting on her clothes, she felt the pain at the foot of her belly rise. It was so quick and sudden that she could barely reach a painkiller in her purse; the pain increased abruptly, becoming strong in throbbing needles. Diana was starting to get scared, barely able to reach the bed to lie down, but when she saw the blood – that’s when she felt total panic.
That millisecond, when she noticed that thin beam of blood trickling down her thigh, scared her more than anything. It wasn’t much, but enough to get down the right leg and dirty the bed in a small puddle.
Diana didn’t wait another second, she crawled across the bed, picked up her cell phone from the nightstand, and called Will.
He didn’t answer. Cursing everything that went through her head, she called and called, not even looking down, fearing to notice if the bleeding had increased. But she could feel the pain. The pain was excruciating, something that never happened before. She tried to call Will again, then she called the only other possible person.
The call was answered on the second ring.
“Benny!”
“Diana?”
"Benny, I don’t know what's going on." Diana squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth, pain pounding her mercilessly.
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
"Ben, I'm feeling a lot of pain, please come here."
"Diana, what do you mean? Pain where?”. Ben was taken by surprise and barely knew how to assimilate what she was saying, but he could feel the desperation in Diana's voice, something he’d never heard before.
"I’m bleeding, Benny, please, I’m bleeding." Diana didn’t know what she was saying anymore, she didn’t even notice she was crying.
She couldn’t speak anymore, she couldn’t even hold the phone to her ear. So she just laid down on the bed and drifted, feeling the pain like horses galloping over her womb.
***
"What is it, Benny?", Will questioned, seeing his brother call Diana’s name again and again, and when he was unsuccessful, he shoved his cell phone in his pocket and picked up the car keys in an uproar.
"Diana," he said, distressed, with an urgency and anguish he’d never felt in his life, not even when he served in the most dangerous places. "Something happened, she said she's bleeding.”
“What?”, Will stood up alert, desperate, his pupils more dilated than ever. Adrenaline and guilt burned his body. The calls. The many calls he ignored were not just an attempt to apologize. It was a call for help.
“Fuck, Will, come one!”, Benny shouted from the door, not really waiting for him, heading to the car and starting the engine. Will came out of his torpor and ran to the door, shutting it out, not bothering to lock it.
Benny barely stopped the car on the sidewalk when Will opened the door and ran into the house. He unlocked the front door, going to the living room, kitchen, yard, trying to see if Diana was downstairs. Until he heard Benny – who ran straight to the bedroom - scream his name.
Will doesn’t even remember the way to the bedroom, or having jumped two steps of stairs at a time, but he clearly remembers seeing Diana lying in the bed, her brow furrowed, still conscious and awake, curled up on the bed. He remembered the blood, which he would noticed later that it wasn’t a large amount, but which was enough to make him feel his legs wobble and his heart stop.
“Diana!”, Will ran to her side on the bed, trying to see if she could hear his voice. She just grunted and then tensed her forehead, feeling another pang of pain.
"Ben, go to the car.", Benny looked a little shocked, though he often sees blood in his fights. It wasn’t just the blood, it was the whole context. Will was already getting ready to take Diana in his arms, when he realized his brother was still standing. He looked at him and shouted, "Go to the car, Benny, now!" It seemed to work, for he hurried to turn on the engine and open the backseat door.
The seconds that Will took with Diana in his arms were the most desperate in his life. Each of them seemed to last forever, the blood staining his T-shirt, her head hanging, her brow closed, the look of pure pain. It was as if he were carrying his whole life in his hands, and in fact, he knew it was.
***
Diana incredibly remembered everything. The pain - God, and what a pain! - to feel, for a moment that seemed like an infinity of days, that she in fact would be swallowed up by the pain and anguish; that everything would just be that pain forever and that was the price she would pay.
Then the panic came. For a moment, she thought her dread was the fear of sequels – to what maybe all that pain could cause to her body. But then she recognized that it was something beyond that - the panic of losing that child. It was all that went through her mind, and in that black sea where she drowned, she even asked for everything that was good in the world to take everything but that child from her.
Then she heard the heavy footsteps in the house, but the pain was so great that even the relief didn’t soothe her. She saw Will come in, stunned, terrified, catching her in his arms, yelling at Benny, taking her to the car and going to the hospital.
After that, it was all very fast. She went through the emergency, a sterile room where a doctor asked her questions she couldn’t understand - she just wanted the pain to go away.
The downside of all this is that she was pregnant - yes, that is obvious at this point -, which meant she couldn’t take any kind of medicine without it being appropriate for her condition. All this means that the doctor took some time to do tests and diagnose what happened to her and the baby, to only then administer any medication.
Meanwhile, Benny and Will nearly went into labor in the waiting room. Stopping any passing doctor, any nurse, even the receptionist they annoyed every 5 minutes for information. Will kept walking, he was restless; Benny hadn’t seen him like that since they were kids. He also felt a huge fear of what might happen - he had the strange feeling that he could’ve avoided it, that he coulde’ve done something before, interfered more.
At some point, Will noticed that in him – he knew his brother better them himself sometimes.
“Benny, don’t do this”, he said, looking straight to him in the hallway. Benny – leaning against the wall -, stared at him.
“What?”
“Don’t blame yourself”. Benny just leaned his head against the wall again.
“I’m not”
“I know you are, just like I am. We have that. But, unlike me, you really don’t have any guilt on this”
“Unlike you?”, Benny got away from the wall, approaching to Will and staring at him. “You’re doing exactly what I’m doing and tell me not to do it?”
“She called me”, Will revealed, not looking into his brother’s eyes “Several times. And I didn’t pick up once.”
“It’s not like you did it in purpose, you know it” Benny knew he didn’t need to say much for his brother to understand him. “So don’t do it to yourself. It’s not helping anybody”
Will just tried not to get carried away by the guilt when a tall, dark-haired doctor, approached to the two of them.
"Are you relatives of Ms. Forest?
"I'm the boyfriend," Will said, hurriedly, Benny right behind. “This is my brother.”
"Right.", she checked her clipboard and asked them to walk down the hall with her. "I'll get you to her, but first I'll explain the diagnosis I obtained.” Will got tense as they pulled up in a bumpy corridor. “High rates of stress and anxiety from any excessive worry, or any other reason, are likely to cause miscarriage in the first trimester, especially in the first month.”
Will felt his hands tremble in the pockets of his pants. Had Diana gone through all this alone, to lose the baby like that, in that perverse situation? He just couldn’t believe it.
"So ... so she ...", Benny tried to ask the question that Will was already finished with the answer.
"The odds were great, so this turned out to be a risky pregnancy, but Ms. Forest didn’t lose the baby and she’s resting now.” Will felt the air rise from his lungs, relieved. “However, I must warn you that this has become a risky pregnancy for a reason. There was a displacement of the placenta, which almost caused the fetus to decouple from the endometrium, which was basically what caused all the pain. High discharge of adrenaline and other agents derived from feelings such as anxiety can mainly cause this. That means that, from now on, until it’s established through examinations that the fetus has returned to lodge permanently in the endometrium again and that it’s safe and normal, Diana is in a gestation of risk and must be monitored at least for the next two weeks.”
Will didn’t understand how, but he understood everything she said, and so he just nodded, wanting to see her once and for all.
"You understand what I mean, sir. Miller?”, the doctor asked, insisting on making him understand.
“What, exactly?”
“Diana cannot go through situations that may cause her half of what she’s been through so far; so she must be preserved from any kind of uncomfortable situation, not only for the next two months, but for the rest of this pregnancy.”
"Clearly, Doctor," Benny said, willing to see his sister-in-law too.
"Okay, come in one at a time, please," she said, turning back the walk and taking to the left in the hallway. "She's sleeping, so please, let her rest before you have any kind of conversation." She opened the bedroom door, giving way for Will to enter. Benny just waited outside in the hall.
Will walked in slowly, adjusting his eyes in the short light: Diana was sleeping, so the lights were on in less intensity, focusing more on the bed where she was laying. He walked, silent as ever, to the side of the bed, watching her sleep, and sat down in the chair next to her. Her eyelashes beat against her cheekbones, which were pale, her lips without any color, her hair scattered on the pillow. He gently took her hand and wrapped it in his own, feeling as if it had been forever since he felt her like this, even though he carried her in his arms like crazy just a few hours ago.
He didn’t notice, head down, when Diana opened her eyes slowly, confused, getting out of a heavy, induced sleep. She wasn’t even trying to get his attention, but then she felt a pang of pain in her head as she tried to turn away, grunting.
Will lifted his face quickly, his intense blue eyes fixed on every movement and expression on her face.
“Diana?”, he whispered, as if she were still asleep, as if speaking in a normal tone was forbidden. She struggled and turned her head. It only hurt when she moved it. “Can you hear me?”
She didn’t understand why, but when she looked into his eyes - warm, too preoccupied to remember anything -, the tears came uninvited. And she just couldn’t stop, or swallow, as she always does. And so then she simply gave up and let the tears out, silent, aching, not sure what she should do.
"I'm sorry," she said, in an appeal that came from the depths of her chest. "I'm sorry" seemed to be the only thing she was capable of saying, her voice weak, the eyes blurred.
Will hated seeing it. He felt his eyes burn, hating to see her sad like that.
"No, Diana, don’t apologize, please," he said, squeezing her hand to get her attention. "Don’t do this”, she opened her eyes wider, noticing his tense, worried look, his eyes suddenly swollen.
"I didn’t want it to be this way, Will." Diana barely knew how to say what she felt, but she needed him to know immediately, as quickly as possible. She couldn’t  wait.
"I know, I know you don’t want to be pregnant, but this is not your fault ..."
"No, Will." this time, she squeezed his hand, lightly, to catch his attention. "I'm not talking about that", she looked deep into his eyes and only at them, she had to say out loud what she’d just realized. "I didn’t want it to be that way for me to realize how much I want this child”, she saw the slight confusion go through his face, frowning, but not wanting to press her “I know I was wrong not to tell you, I know that and I will live with it forever. I wasn’t sure about anything - if I wanted to have this child, if I didn’t want to, if I was willing to try - I was getting desperate and I was dumb not to share it with you. It was never my idea to go to a clinic to find out how to stop this pregnancy; if that woman hadn’t given me the god damn number, I’d never have looked for it by myself. But I won’t be a hypocrite to blame her for anything. I had the number and I could just have thrown it away. I don’t know what I meant by calling, but I certainly wouldn’t take that forward. I don’t know how to explain, I was just dumb”, suddenly, she felt tears flow again, but she couldn’t stop “I swear I would never do anything like that, and I never thought they would call me back; I didn’t mean to do anything. I spent the day planning when to tell you, or how; and that's when it all happened.”
"You don’t have to tell me this now, darling, it all can wait." He listened to her, but he didn’t want her to continue to wear out like that. Her sad, guilty expression made him feel bad. And he also remembered what the doctor said about getting her in uncomfortable situations.
“That's not the point, Will", she continued, wiping her tears with the hand that wasn’t holding his "When I began to feel the pain, especially when I saw the blood, the greatest fear wasn’t of my own health. I was terrified with the idea of losing this baby. I couldn’t think anything else, even though I was going through hell; the only thing I had in mind was to stand firm and keep this child here if, I could.” she stopped, lowering her head suddenly. It shouldn’t have been like this, and it was all my fault.”
Will didn’t really know what to say. He felt the guilt on himself, knowing that she was alone, for having ignored all the calls. He felt as embarrassed as she, and he could barely speak, for he didn’t want to cry too. But this guilt he felt wasn’t just for that.
"I went through the exact opposite," he said after a while. She lifted her head, staring at him “When I was carrying you to the car, when I saw you, feeling pain as never before, when I felt your blood in my clothes, when I put you on a stretcher and I saw you go to an emergency room; the only thing I had in mind was that I couldn’t lose you”, he was trying not to cry in vain, because the tears were already trickling down his face in the middle of the sentence. Maybe that’s why he was embarrassed too: because he didn’t think about the baby once.
She looked at him, a little incredulous. None of that were his fault, she knew she was the one who put them into that situation, and he was feeling guilty for not thinking about the baby? Diana knew, deep down, that she didn’t deserve a strand of hair on that man.
Silently, ignoring the headache, Diana let go of his hand just to hold his face towards hers, with both hands. His eyes were wet, his face frowned and distressed, as if he relived everything he had just told.
“Will, honey, you have no blame in this”, she said, feeling his beard stick to her hands “And I don’t deserve the man you are. I know I never will”. Suddenly, Will looked at her with surprised and shining eyes. She knew he was still betrayed by what she had done, but she understood that he was good enough to forgive her someday.
Everyone says that evolves with time, that learns from mistakes, in that cliché litany of maturing. But Will - will is the living proof of it, in the most genuine way possible. Will would learn from every mistake, from every situation he couldn’t handle because he didn’t learn how to; he always tries to put himself in the other person’s place before acting – not just thinking only about the solution. Will is the type of man that hates doing the wrong thing, but that would do it a thousand times for the people he loves without blinking, and he would learn how to live with it after all.
Will is a constant evolution, someone who doesn’t deserve to me harmed, especially because he tries really hard not to harm anyone.
Diana knew, with no doubts, that she didn’t deserve him. But, God, she wouldn’t give it away for anything in this world.
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oh-warukunai · 5 years
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Hangeauweek - Day 3: School
Trigger warning: Bipolar disorder
A/N: I literally just translated this from my original version in spanish, so bear with me here. 
Title: Three
She would’ve liked to say her school years were good. She really did. When her colleagues shared all those stories of foolishness and high school crushes she listened to them as a far away tale, difficult to understand.
“What about you, Hanji? Did you do something crazy with your classmates?” Nanaba looked at her with wondering eyes. Hanji had kept herself unusually quiet the whole conversation.
“Not so much, if I’m being honest” she answered with a shrug. She gazed at the day outside her window, the summer warm that didn’t penetrate her office. She pretended to be a bit more focused in her work than in the casual chatting, but Nanaba was persistent when she wanted to.
“I don’t buy that at all! Someone like you! I bet you did so many wild shit they became normal to you” she laughed; but her laughter stopped abruptly when she noticed Hanji’s expression. A private look that was did not seemed focused on the topic at all.
“Just say yes, Levi! Tell me we’re going to leave this place for good! I can’t keep going like this, everyday, all the time”
“Of course you can, you have to! The hell you want? To end up like me?!” His voice was sharp
“Would that be so bad? You are free, you can do whatever you want” she insisted
“I do whatever I want because no one cares. That’s not freedom”
Nanaba touched her shoulder. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, not at all. It’s just… that I really don’t have anything interesting to say on this subject. Just boring teenager stuff”
Nanaba got up with a frown. The conversation had became uncomfortable, there was a certain tension in the air that Nanaba preferred to avoid with the excuse of making more coffee.
Hanji stayed there, still. Ignoring that endless report in her screen that she still hadn’t finished, remembering things that she had tried hard to forget, stories that belonged to an fathomless past.
“The psychiatrist put the documents over the desk and examined Hanji, with the kind of look that tries to read the mind. The doctor then turned her gaze towards Hanji’s mother.
           “You understand what I’m saying, right?” 
           “You’re saying that my daughter has Bipolar Disorder. A sixteen year old girl! I’ve been reading, you know? Don’t you think I haven’t. I’ve been reading that that thing isn’t easily diagnosed on a teenager, it’s usually adults that…
“That’s true, it’s not easily diagnosed, but I’ve been seeing Hanji for over a year. The diagnosis is clear.
“No, no” her mother shook her head. “That’s a mental illness and my daughter is not mentally ill. Are you telling me she’s mentally ill? Like the kind of people that would wonder the street, screaming nonsense all over the place”
The doctor moved in her seat, with an obvious awkwardness. “Hanji, I think it’d better if your mother and I discussed this in private. Please wait outside” Hanji hesitated, gave up in the end. While she was closing the door, her mother muttered those damn words.
           “She’s not crazy, doctor!
Hanji sat at the waiting room, took her headphones and tried to focused on something else. So what if she was bipolar? Or was it “have” bipolar? Whatever! It didn’t matter, she would still be miserable, the difference is that feeling would now have a name. Yes, she tried hard to bring logic into it, but she wasn’t successful. She found herself covering her eyes with one hand and the tears streamed down the sleeve of her school uniform. She drowned the pain as much as she could.
A touch of a hand made her jump. When she looked up, she hesitated. She knew that person well, but never expected to see him there.
           “Erwin, what are you doing here?” the boy was a class above her and they have exchanged a couple of words more than once. They were both grade A students, but Erwin was also on the football team which gave him a popularity beyond her reach. She felt intimidated, but she managed to mask it.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No” Hanji remembered that Erwin had lost her father not so long ago in what everybody said was a horrible accident. There was a reason he was seeing a shrink too. Erwin gave a empathetic smile and relaxed in his own seat.
“Me neither”
Hanji took off her headphones. She did not said any other word, but also stopped crying. For a moment, she breathed in peace with the silence, Erwin’s presence gave her a serenity she could not put into words”
Hanji’s mood was already ruined after Nanaba’s inquisitive question. No, her school years where marked by an unique adolescence, filled with meds, doctors and pain.
She lied on her stomach over the couch, trying to hide from the world for just a second. Nonetheless, she knew herself pretty well and nothing good could come from locking herself into her own mind. She grabbed her phone and looked for the name that would ease her mind, the one that could definitely understand her.
The velvet voice on the other end said hello to her with the surreptitious warm that was so usual on him
           “Can I ask you something?”
“You will ask even I say no, right?
“Do you remember anything good about our school years? The teenager years? I can’t… I can’t remember anything”
Levi stayed silent for a couple of seconds
“Nothing, you say? Nothing good? I can’t believe you”
“There was nothing! I just can’t recall anything. I just remember my mom thinking I was crazy, my nonexistent father, my cruel brother, the bullying in school, the depression and the mania. It was not a happy time like everybody says it is. I know you see my point”
“Hanji, did you really called me to ask me this? I’m a bit busy, let’s talk about this later…in some other time”
Hanji nodded, but her heart sank. After hanging up, she looked at the roof until absolute boredom, until she had counted all the stains and identified a half-dead fly. If Levi didn’t want to talk about it, nobody would. Erwin didn’t like to remember the past, ever. Levi, in the other hand, was not afraid of open bitterness. She was certain no one else could understand what it was like not being a “normal” teenager, to feel like a share of what everybody in the world has had a taste had been stolen from her.
The bell of her apartment rang and Hanji was ready kick out anyone who dared interrupt this moment.
“It’s me”Hanji recognized the voice. She opened the door and Levi stood there, with a coffee in one hand. He gave it to her. “Here, it’s the one you like, with the cream and that ridiculous amount of cinnamon”
“Thank you” her words sounded like an interrogation. “What are you doing here?”
Levi did not answered, but invited himself into the apartment.
“I can’t believe you said you had no happy memories from back then”
“Levi, you more than anyone can understand me! You were kicked out of your home, you had to work for a living when you were fifteen, you were always about to drop out. That’s worse than what I experienced. I know you did overcome all of that, you have that great job, that beautiful home and the most adorable dog, But that doesn’t mean that anything before that wasn’t absolute trash”
“No, you don’t get it” Levi got close and put his hands in each of Hanji’s shoulder. “We were together, weren’t we? You, Erwin and I. After we met, we were always together. That’s the good thing that happened to us”. Levi’s voice was almost a whisper, but Hanji felt like it slapped her in the sweetest way, “Yes, a bipolar girl, an orphan guy and other one abandoned by the only family he had left was not the most brilliant or positive group, but we survived. We survived, because we stood together all the time” Levi’s eyes met her own in a way that felt so intimate. “Don’t you remember that?”
Hanji covered her mouth with one hand, the thoughts were spinning in her head. With her free hand she grabbed Levi by the neck and pull him towards her to hug him. She hugged him so hard Levi had to push away just a little bit to have room to breath. Hanji hugged him to the past, until those years that she will, from now on, remember as the time she met the most important men in her life, the first ones she truly loved. She will only remember them and blur the rest. Only the three of them chatting at the park, lying in the grass, looking at the sky, dreaming about a future that already arrived.
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demiiharperr · 5 years
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Things That Bother Me About Gossip Girl
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Chuck Bass’ hair in the first season
Jenny Humphrey repeatedly trying to stir up trouble & be a bitch
Serena’s nappy hair. Has she never heard of a hairbrush?!
Nate’s lip
Rufus Humphrey’s singing/song
Serena constantly pushing her lips out and whispering when she talks
Serena and her daddy issues. Mainly her being so quick to pin Rufus as the bad guy.
Little J losing her virginity to Chuck and then pinning him as a bag guy.
Jenny’s disgusting goth makeup.
Eric’s blonde striped hair
Lily running to her ex husband for help instead of just going to ANY OTHER DOCTOR ON THE PLANET
The poor acting during Dorota’s labor
Serena’s disgusting hair. It’s so bad I had to say it twice
Serena repeatedly being handed EVERYTHING. She gets trashed, fucks her best friends boyfriend, leaves a man to overdose and is still offered everything she doesn’t deserve.
Eleanor stealing a teenagers work.
Harriet The Spy (aka Georgina) being a villain. My childhood is ruined
Those alleyway assholes shooting Chuck. This is like The O.C. all over again. My heart can’t handle it.
Speaking of Chuck... Chuck constantly reminding people he’s “Chuck Bass”
These high school teenagers dating adults & nobody being bothered by that. But, as soon as Dan has interest in a teacher then we’re shook?
Elizabeth never coming back to tell Chuck she actually IS his mother
Come to think of it — the whole flip flopping of Chuck’s mom was frustrating
Chuck’s uncle Jack being so willing to hand over the hotel all of a sudden was pretty weird too
Rufus not getting Jenny some serious help
Agnes drugging Jenny!!! That girl needs to get locked away
The way that all of these children talk to their parents. They’re so disrespectful. Which is typical for teenagers. But, these parents just enable the behavior.
The on again off again relationship of Dan & Georgina
Vanessa. enough said.
Dan not INSTANTLY getting a paternity test
Prince Louis. again, enough said.
Blair & Chuck not seeing that they’re always going to come back to each other.
Lily being so easily swooned by anyone who is NOT her husband.
Georgina outing Eric. Soooo fucked up
Never hearing from Jenny & Dan’s mom again after her few appearances.
Chuck inheriting a business at 18. TF?!?!
Rufus’ tattoos
Chuck going from suits & ties — to being shot — to villager WORKING in Paris!!
Serena thinking she can take over as Queen. B may not have always been Queen, but, the title suits her so much better than S.
Juliet’s scheming ass. ughh!
The whole storyline of Georgina, Milo, & Russian murderers.
Eva being waaaaayyyy too good for any of these Upper East Side snobs and not running for the hills after Blair was a complete bitch to her. GIRL— RUNNNN!!!
Dan being so obviously more attracted to Vanessa during his threesome with her & Olivia. HOW DUMB COULD YOU BE?!?!
Dan being so cold about Georgina taking Milo. The way he spoke about Milo during his “Intervention of Emotions” was foul
The Humphrey Loft. It seems not secure AT ALL!! There’s a gap between the two front doors & I just feel like it’s probably the easiest place to break into.
I know I’ve already mentioned Serena’s hair but, I don’t understand how she can go to all of these elite events with these unkept hairstyles. In Season 4 Episode 4, the one time she straightened and brushed her hair, she slapped on some disgusting braid on the front of her head.
I know I’ve also already mentioned Vanessa but, can we talk about how much older she looks than everybody else her age?!
Blair wearing shorts to an NYU party. I almost died.
Blair’s knitted beret she wore in Paris. Soooo not “Blair Waldorf”.
Hilary Duff’s acting. It’s just not good. I love Hilary but, her acting hasn’t progressed since Lizzie Mcguire.
WHAT KIND OF PRISON IS BEN IN THAT HE HAS ACCESS TO LITERALLY EVERYTHING!! Is it even prison at this point?! I know people are able to sneak things but CMON!!!!
Gossip Girl getting sloppy with the posts
Going seasons and seasons and seasons of not a single person ever attempting to find out who Gossip Girl even is. That’d be the first thing I did if somebody was posting about me. Is this not borderline stalking?!
Rufus’ tan.
Literally EVERYTIME Jenny returned back to the show. Her character was one of the worst ones.
There’s a scene in Season 4 Episode 11, where you see a framed picture of Lily WEARING THE SAME EXACT THING SHES WEARING IN THE SCENE! The lack of creativity was weak with this one.
Blair gets a little cheesy towards the end of season 4
Serena looooves to play the blame game. Never taking FULL responsibility for anything. Always looking for someone to take the heat off her
Blair repeatedly getting into physical altercations with people at events. For a woman who seems to pride herself in how much better she is than everyone else she tends to act very classless at social gatherings.
Charlie/Ivy inheriting ANYTHING from Cece
There ever being a storyline of Blair being pregnant only for us to know that she wasn’t meant to be with Louis. Meaning that the baby storyline would have to end. I wish they wouldn’t have had it at all. It was weak the whole way through.
Blair arriving at the airport in her Vera Wang gown and tiara not expecting to get attention from it all.
People instantly knowing who that she’s the Princess of Monaco. Not to sound ignorant or anything but, where tf is Monaco?!
Bart Bass coming back from the grave. WTF?! Not believable.
Dan growing his hair out to where he looked like he was wearing a wig he found in a back alley dumpster
Dorota’s acting. Toward the end of the show they gave her character more lines and she appeared in more and more scenes. But, her acting/her lines were incredibly cheesy.
Serena & Dan getting married in a living room with everybody just chillin on couches. I’m all for small. I’m all for simplicity. But, this was too redneck.
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lizzy-c807fanfics · 5 years
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That Old Black Magic: Ch.9         A Game of Chance
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Killian Jones and Emma Swan didn’t meet under the usual circumstances but they had an immediate spark that ignited into a fiery relationship. Their complimentary life styles create the perfect partnership at both home and work. Can she and Killian keep up their lucky streak while navigating through the dangerous lives they lead? Find out in this Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire Mystery: That old black magic.
In this sequel two sorority girls have gone missing. Emma is on the case to try to track them down. Along the way she manages to piss off some of the wrong people adding complexity to her case.
FF    AO3
Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire 
Read the first story here! -
FF AO3
A/N: Hello Lovely Readers! I hope you are enjoying this story. Thank you to all of you that have left me reviews and kudos. I appreciate your words. They help keep me going. I’ve got some good things coming for you guys!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Ch. 9
“We need to ask you both a few questions about the disappearance of Charlotte and Tiana.” Said Emma.
Al and Naveen both looked at each other and appeared they were silently speaking to each other.
Humbert went around behind the pair and pushed them into the seats at the poker table. “Why don’t you both sit down?”
Al pulled back against Humbert. “Hey, watch it.”
“Look man, we didn’t do anything.” Said Naveen.
Humbert pulled out a chair at the poker table and sat down. “You can either answer the questions here or I can take you to the station. Your choice.”
Both of them grumbled but reluctantly moved in to the table.
She moved around the table and took the chair across from them. She wanted to be able to watch their body language.
“For the record, you are Al and you are Naveen.” She said as she pointed towards each after saying their name.
They nodded. It was Naveen who spoke first. ”Any news or leads on the girls?”
“I’ve just started the investigation today. Tiana’s family asked me to help them.” Said Emma. She was reluctant to tell them anything she’d learned just in case they were involved.
“No new leads. That’s why we are here with you two street rats.” Said Humbert.
Naveen stood up and moved towards the bar. He grabbed the bottle, poured a shot and slung it back. “What’s taking so long? Shouldn’t we have heard something by now?” he asked.
Al looked back towards him and then to her. “ Tiana was his girl. You’ll have to excuse him.”
Emma pulled her notes from her bag. “ Al, your girlfriend is Jazzy from the sorority house?”
He grinned. “That’s right, she’s my queen.” 
Naveen grabbed the bottle and joined them back at the table. Emma nodded. “Were you at the frat party that night?”
“Yeah, we were there. It was a joint party. Everybody whose Anybody is at our parties.” Said Al.
She jotted down the information. “Did you see Charlotte at the party?”
“Yeah, she was doing her normal thing.” Said Naveen.
“Her normal thing?” asked Emma.
“You know, flaunting her Daddy’s money and teasing all the guys in the back.” Said Al.
“She talked about her father’s money to the group?” asked Emma.
“That girl couldn’t help but talk about how she rich she was. She was dripping in bling. Even if she didn’t talk about it, you’d know she was a princess.” Said Naveen.
“Was there anyone at the party that would want to hurt Charlotte?” asked Emma.
Al gave a half smile. “She may have acted like a princess, but she’d give you her last dollar. She’s got heart.”  
“Yeah, Lottie may be flighty, but she wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Said Naveen.
“Tell me more about the party. Were you all together? Do you remember seeing her? Was she talking with anyone in particular?” asked Emma.
“We were all hanging out in the backroom. Lottie was doing her thing with the guys back there. Nobody special, just a bunch of guys from the Frat. You know playing games and what not. Jazzy and I didn’t stay to long though, you know she felt the urge for some loving and we left the party. You know what I mean?” Grinned Al.
Emma shook her head. “Did you come back to the party?” she asked.
“Nope. We were bunking for the night. She wears me out.” Said Al.
“So you didn’t see Charlotte leave the party”” she asked.  
Al grinned. “Nope, I only had eyes for my girl that night. I was kind of busy. Besides, I’m not her babysitter.”
It looked like Humbert was busy playing with his phone. Was he taking selfies? She shook her head. She was literally surrounded by children. She jotted down her notes and turned her attention to the sad sack sitting in front of her. “Ok. What about you? Did you see Charlotte leave the party with anyone?” 
Naveen was taking sips from the tall bottle of whiskey. He looked to the sky and sighed loudly. “No, I didn’t see Lottie hanging out with anyone or leave with anyone. I wasn’t even supposed to be there. Ti is so mad at me. She’s wouldn’t talk to me and I needed to see her. That’s the only reason I was there. Why does she always got to babysit that girl? If she would have been home that night or out with me like we’d planned she wouldn’t be missing right now but she always got to babysit that girl.”
Al pat him on the back. “Chill man.”
“What do you mean if she would have been home that night she wouldn’t be missing?” asked Emma.
Humbert seemed to come back to reality. “Answer the question boy.”
Naveen snapped forward. “I mean it was supposed to be our night out. I had tickets for a show. We were supposed to go but she dumped me. If she’d have just stayed with me, she’d be here right now but she had to babysit that damn Lottie. She’s always getting her into things. Tiana’s a good girl.”
Naveen had tears in his eyes. She could tell he really cared for her.
“Any idea where Lottie would have gone or who she might have left the party with?” asked Emma.  
“Could have been anyone at that party. Lottie had a group of people around her at all times. She had this way about her, she could draw people in with her charms, almost like magic. The problem is that like Al said, she also liked to shoot her mouth off about her Daddy’s money. Tiana’s had to get her out of a jam more than once because of that mouth.” Said Naveen. 
“Did you notice anyone suspicious at the party? Someone who didn’t belong? Anyone hanging particularly close to her?” asked Emma.
Naveen appeared to be thinking about it. “Nah, nobody I could think of.”
“So Al, we’ve established you were with your girl when Lottie left, what about you Naveen? What time did you leave the party? Were you with anyone that could offer you an alibi?” asked Emma.
He wiped his face roughly and she could hear the frustration in his voice. “I don’t even remember how I got home. One minute I was in the back room watching the games and feeling sorry for myself. Next morning I was here passed out on the couch.”
“So this is your place?” she asked.
Al laughed. “He just stays here, this is not his place.”
Naveen huffed. “yeah, I just stay here, you know while school is in session.”
“So who is the prince?” asked Emma.
Al and Naveen both looked at each other grimly, their eyes reaching the back of the room.
She was just about to begin another question when the a loud bang from the back of the room stopped her.
“Somebody want to tell me what is going on in my house?” boomed the voice behind them.
Both she and Humbert stood and turned around at the same time. It was Al who spoke first. “Sir, um, the game ended. They were asking us some questions about the missing sorority girls.”
There was a tall, dark man dressed in an impeccable dark suit, accented in similar colors to the room around them. She surmised that he might be “The Prince” that the guys out front mentioned.
He moved forward. His dark eyes lingering over them. “I suggest that if you don’t have a warrant, you leave my premises immediately or I’ll have you thrown out. I have rights, as do these boys, stupid as they may be.”  
“Who might you be?” asked Emma.
He rolled his eyes and slipped off his white gloves, placing them into his pockets. “I am the owner of this property and I don’t appreciate police invading my space uninvited. I have nothing further to say to you.”
“Is there a reason why we might need a warrant?” barked Humbert.
The man was suddenly directly in front of Humbert staring him down ominously. Two other large figures entered the back of the room. “Anything wrong boss?” asked one of the men.
“We were just leaving.” Said Emma.
Humbert stood looking him dead in the eyes before following her lead. “Alright, well, you two boys don’t go leaving town. We might have more questions for you.”
Al and Naveen both nodded. Each of them seemed to be a shade lighter than moments before.
“Will you let me know if you hear from Ti?” asked Naveen.
Emma felt the pain in his question. She recognized the look from families who’d lost their loved ones. She turned to him. “Yes, I’ll be in touch.” 
She couldn’t leave that apartment or building fast enough. She had a bad feeling about that guy, he just wasn’t right. It was as if the air was sucked out of the room when he’d entered. Humbert was right at her heels cursing the whole way down. When they reached the outside door, she was thankful for the fresh air. She quickly moved towards the car.
Humbert was fumbling for the keys to unlock the door. “Fuck!, Do you believe that guy? I’m a cop. How dare he step to me like that?”
Emma climbed into her seat when she heard the door lock click open. “Humbert, the guy was right. We were in his house, no warrant, and he didn’t want us there. He’s hiding something and we were too close.”
“I don’t care. I’m an officer of the law.” He said flatly.
“Have you ever seen him before? I’ve never seen him in town.” Said Emma.
He banged his hands against the steering wheel. “No, shady mother fucker! I’m going to get a warrant and come back here for his ass.”
“I think you should watch yourself.” She said plainly.
He turned on the car in frustration. “Yeah. You want to get a drink?”
“No, I’ve had a long day. Can you just drop me off at the firehouse?” 
He frowned. “Fine.”
She went over the notes in front of her. Those boys knew more than they were telling her. How could Naveen just end up at home? Al left the party and didn’t see Charlotte leave or who she was hanging out with? How could someone so loved and attention grabbing just disappear from the room without being seen. She needed to talk to those frat guys.
They pulled up out front of the firehouse. She collected her things. “Humbert, If your detectives find anything will you let me know?” asked Emma.
“Yeah, ok. You sure you don’t want to grab a drink with me?”
The thought of seeing Killian’s baby blues crossed her mind. She needed him to hold her in his arms and bring her to her happy place.  She popped open the door. “Sorry, maybe another time. Thanks for the ride. Call me if you hear anything.”
 He didn’t respond. He just sped away, and her step quickened as she rushed to the firehouse door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Al grabbed the bottle from Naveen and took a swig. The ominous man grabbed the bottle and slammed it down before jumping in his face. “Are you boys going to tell me what the hell those cops were doing in my house?”
“I’m sorry sir, it won’t happen again.” Said Al.
Naveen pulled out a chair and sat back at the table. He began swigging from the bottle again. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Sam. Its just that my girl is missing. I’d have thrown them out too, but I just hoped they had info.”
Sam was behind the bar making a drink.  “If I ever walk into my house and find the fuzz in here again. I’ll kill you both personally.”
Naveen closed his eyes and took another sip. He knew he wasn’t kidding. “Yes sir.”
He came over and sat at the table in front of Naveen and Al. “Now, where is my money? There was supposed to be a game going on in here. I didn’t line up those fish for you to let them off the hook.”
Naveen pulled all of the money they’d earned from the game out of his pockets and placed it on the table.  
He grabbed the wad of cash. “This is it.” The man picked up the money and quickly assessed it. “That looks a little light to me. Was the Franklin boy here? He’s usually good for more than this.” 
“He was but he was too blitzed to keep playing. He also brought that whore in here again.” Said Naveen.
“Baker was here but he left early, and Jennings nearly passed out on the table.” Said Al.
The man raised his eyebrow. “I see, and how long were those cops here?”
“Not long, the girl, Ellie. She played a few hands with us.” Said Al.
He looked at the money again. “Doesn’t appear she was a high roller?”
The boys looked at each other and back to the man. “No, she wasn’t. “said Al.
He grinned. “Did she beat you?”
Al shrugged his shoulders. “She won a few quick hands.”
Sam picked up the cards from the table and started maneuvering them around. “Haven’t I taught you all my tricks? It seems like you boys might need to practice a little harder.” The man laughed heartily.
“Well, looks like there was no cut for you tonight. Your tab is still holding. You owe me for tonight’s losses so I’ll add that to it as well. I’d think twice about who I let in my games boys. You never know.” Said the man as he rose from the table.
“Ah man. Come on.” Said Al.
“Don’t sass me boy. I could do a lot worse for what you owe me.” He boomed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Said Al.
“Look Sam, we promise. It won’t happen again.” Said Naveen.
Sam started walking towards the door.
Al breathed a sigh of relief but it was too soon.
Sam turned back to them. “Oh, I also heard that there were Scots here tonight. What did they want? You know I don’t allow them to play in my games anymore?”
“They were looking for the girl. You know, the cop.” Said Al.
Naveen’s eyes went wide.
The man nodded and began his stride towards the door.  “Clean up in here. I want it spotless for the game later. I’ve got some friends coming.”
“You got it sir.” Said Al.
“And you boys’ better practice. I want my money.” he threatened.
“Yes, sir.” Said Naveen.
Al went over and pulled his friend up from the table. “Get it together man. We’ve got problems if we can’t pay him and the scots. We were lucky that cop walked in her when he did.”
“Man, I don’t even care anymore.” Said Naveen as he sipped from the bottle.
Al shook his head and started cleaning up. His friend was not going to be any help tonight even if their lives were on the line.
~~~~~~~~~
When Emma walked through the firehouse doors a wash of relief overwhelmed him. He stood from the chair, rushed towards her, and picked her up into a big bear hug. She laughed. “Not too tight.”
Killian let her down gently. “Sorry, Love. I’ve just been worried after our last call.”
“I didn’t say let go.”
He smiled and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her back. “That bad?” he asked.
She peeked up to look at his baby blues. “ I could use a drink.”
He pulled her close again. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”     
As long as she was with him, he knew she was safe.
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harry-sussex · 5 years
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“Why do you care that Prince Harry got engaged?  What does that have to do with you?”
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When I hear these questions, I think of the weeks before and after November 27, 2017.  And I think of the following story, one that is incredibly personal, but one that means so much to me.
This time last year, things in my life were... not so good, to put it simply. 
Over the week of Thanksgiving 2018, the following things happened:
My boyfriend had just broken up with me weeks before, and my best friend and I weren’t speaking.  I was lonely and sad and heartbroken and I couldn’t talk to anyone about it because my best friend and I were on bad terms.
My dad got on an emergency plane to Ohio to discuss treatment and surgical options because my older sister had just been diagnosed with Stage 2 Breast Cancer.
My grandma, who was in a private room in a nursing home at the time, was forced to move to a double room, and she did not react well (she would die barely a month later).  I had to be there multiple times a week to ease her into a roommate situation, after 16 years of living alone.
I was forced to manage an entire office during the holiday season by myself because my boss was on vacation and my dad was with my sister.
Between the nursing home, my extended family, my clients, and my boss, my phone rang seventy-two times the day before Thanksgiving.  72.  That doesn’t include calls I made myself.  All while I was trying to wrap things up at work, peek in the nursing home to check on my grandma, and handle cooking dinner.
Because my dad was in Ohio, I had to cook all of Thanksgiving dinner by myself.
My dog ripped his ear open on something while I was at work the day before Thanksgiving and I had to run him to the vet mere minutes before they closed.  He got blood all over my apartment and guess where Thanksgiving was held last year?  You guessed it - my apartment.
My dad arrived home at 8pm on Thanksgiving Eve, and I couldn’t get down to the city to pick him up from the airport while still cooking dinner.  My mom and my sister couldn’t handle the traffic so he had to take an Uber all the way to my house, except his phone was at 1% battery and he had never taken an Uber before.  My dad is... not fond of doing new things, to put it lightly.  I spent an hour on the phone - instead of doing the nine million other things I needed to do - because he’s kind of helpless, not going to lie.
Then Thanksgiving Day came.  My dad was supposed to get up early and give me a hand with everything.  They were at my house - all three of them - and I could have used a hand with the turkey, the stuffing, etc.  But, I didn’t get an ounce of help.  They kicked back, relaxed, and talked a lot about how tired they were from their busy week.  They drank.  I didn’t get to kick back and relax, and I’d argue my week was the busiest out of all of theirs.
I didn’t say a word.  I was tired, I was hurt, I felt lonely and abandoned and used.  I didn’t say a word.
Hours and hours and hours later, everybody was gone, except for my parents.  My dad fell asleep on the recliner, my mom was watching TV on the couch, and I - finally, after a long day of cooking and cleaning and acting the happy hostess - had time to take a peek at my phone.
And when I got to Tumblr, I knew something big was happening.  Rumors were buzzing about Prince Harry getting engaged.  These rumors weren’t just regular tabloid fodder, either.  We knew that Ms. Meghan Markle was in London, and that she had just gotten a manicure and a facial.  We had only recently seen them together for the first time at the Invictus Games in Toronto, so we knew their relationship was serious.  We knew that even the most reputable royal reporters were murmuring amongst themselves.  People who hadn’t been on Tumblr for months, years, even, were coming back in droves to be here for when the bomb finally hit - for when The Prince of Wales announced the engagement of Prince Harry to Ms. Meghan Markle.
Needless to say, I was freaking out.  Once I pieced things together, I literally screamed.  In doing so, I woke up my dog, and, more unfortunately, my dad.  He was stressed, he had been drinking, he was tired, and he hates being woken up.  I’m not going to get into the details, but the ensuing few hours were... not fun.  I had all but forgotten about the good news that Prince Harry may be engaged.  Things at home were just too miserable.
Then, the next day... nothing.  And the next day.  And the next day.  And I had all but forgotten about the one tiny thing that made me happy on Thanksgiving Day, the one glimmer of hope and happiness between a terrible week and a terrible end to my holiday.
And then, Monday morning, I knew my dad was still feeling guilty - as he should have.  I wasn’t answering his calls or texts really, not since he left my house the Friday before.  But, at 6:30 AM on the morning of November 27, 2017, I got the text from my dad that changed my entire mood, my entire week, month, year, even:
“Happy engagement”
When I first read it, groggy after waking up on a Monday morning, I had no clue what it meant.  And then - I realized.  I checked the Kensington Palace Twitter and Instagram feeds, and then I checked Tumblr.  I swore I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  Once I finally came to the conclusion that I wasn’t dreaming, that what I was reading was real....
I screamed, and then I cried.  The happiest tears I remember crying in so long.
I threw my personal laptop in my bag and sped to work early so I could watch the photocall live.  When my dad got to work, I was engrossed in my personal laptop.  Prince Harry and his fiance were on TV for the world to see and nothing, nothing could wipe the smile off my face.  Family and friends were calling me to tell me.  My grandma - 88 years old and all but deaf, miserable in her own right - called me, yelling into the phone to tell me that Prince Harry was off the market.  My friends - many of whom were there when I stayed up all night for Princess Charlotte’s birth, who watched me take so much happiness from these strangers across the pond but who never cared themselves - called me as they woke to the morning’s news.  I could hear the smile in many of their voices when we spoke.  Their smiles had nothing to do with Prince Harry and his new fiance - they had everything to do with me.  Me and my happiness.  I will never, ever forget that.
It may be strange to be that emotionally invested in the lives and happiness of a stranger.  I don’t pretend that it’s normal.  But that Monday morning, after all of the horrible things that had happened in the previous week, and after a terrible few months, my heart lifted and my soul was healed, if only temporarily.  The happiness of these two strangers - one of whom I had loved for years and years and years - was everything to me that day.  Come to think of it, their happiness makes me happy, even now.  Sometimes, it’s hard for me to be happy all by myself.  But that day, when the engagement of Prince Harry’s engagement to Ms. Meghan Markle was announced, I felt so happy, so purely, purely happy.  I needed something like that after the weeks prior, and Prince Harry delivered.  I will forever be grateful for the timing of his engagement.
When the engagement interview aired, I couldn’t believe that I was watching it with my own two eyes.  I shut the phones off at work, locked the door, and even got my dad to watch with me.  He was sitting there, mostly watching me.  He’s not interested in the royals but he knew what this meant to me.  Watching Harry and Meghan together, officially, for the first time, was everything to me.  Everything.  My heart soared watching him shiver at the word “husband,” hearing them talk of their trip to Botswana, hearing Meghan talk about William and Catherine’s support, hearing about her having tea with the Queen and the corgis... the entire time.  I’m pretty sure I was a mixture of smiley and teary and ecstatic for the entire twenty minutes.  I cannot begin to put into words the feeling.  It was everything to me.
Did the engagement of Prince Harry to Ms. Meghan Markle bring peace on Earth?  Did it end hunger and poverty and prejudice and violence, or fix the environment?  No.  Not at all.  But on that day, on November 27, 2017, their engagement helped me.  I have always, always loved Prince Harry, but their engagement sealed the deal for me.  Their happiness that day saved me, if only for a little while.  I will forever be grateful for the both of them for providing me that.
The first time I saw my grandma after the engagement, I joked about the two of us going to London to watch The Royal Wedding.  She was 88, mostly bedridden, and couldn’t even make it out of the nursing home to come to Thanksgiving.  Yet, we joked about going together.  I would pick her up at the nursing home, I’d drive us to JFK, we’d get on the plane, and then I’d bring a wheelchair and wheel her to the wedding myself.  We joked about it a lot.  She didn’t even have a passport and there was no way she could sit through a six hour flight, but when I thought about going to London to watch Prince Harry’s wedding, for some reason, I always thought about bringing her with me.
Less than a month after their engagement was announced, my grandma died.  2:30 AM on the morning of December 26th, just barely missing Christmas.  I won’t get into the details of that day, but I was heartbroken.  I had just seen her the day before for Christmas Day, and she was happy and vibrant and full of life, and then she was gone.  Just like that.
A few weeks later, I made a decision.  I was going to England to watch The Royal Wedding, and I was going alone.  My grandma would have been so happy, so proud - once I came back safely, that is.
The wedding came and went, and my trip to England came and went.  I had a fantastic time.  I cried the entire time watching Prince Harry and his bride, the new Duke and Duchess of Sussex, pledging their lives to each other in front of the world’s audience.  It was an amazing experience and I will never regret getting on that plane.  Never.
When I came home, I went to go see my grandma’s grave.  The grass still hadn’t grown over where they buried her completely.  I sat down in the grass, and told her, “I went to England, Grandma.  I saw Prince Harry get married.”
When I think back to the engagement of Prince Harry and Ms. Meghan Markle, of course I think of the heartache and pain I was experiencing in my own personal life.  But, more importantly, I think of the pure, unbridled joy that was in my heart when I read the good news.  Their happiness made me happy.  Their happiness continues to make me happy.  I will never, ever apologize for that.
Today, I’m doing much better.  Can I prove that my happiness started coming back after their engagement?  No.  
But, in my soul, I feel like parts of myself started coming back after I got on that plane to watch their wedding.  I had lost myself to depression and anxiety for a long time, for many, many years before their relationship even started.
But, when I got on that plane, I felt myself coming back.  For the first time in so long, I felt parts of myself coming back.  And I can attribute that feeling of wholeness, of happiness, of pure joy, all the way back to the engagement of Prince Harry and Ms. Meghan Markle on November 27, 2017.
So when I hear, “Why do you care that Prince Harry got engaged/married?  What does their relationship have to do with you?”  I think, nothing.  It has nothing to do with me.  But their happiness, their well-being, that has everything to do with me.  I never thought that two strangers across the pond could bring so much joy to my life, but I am forever, forever grateful that they did.
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