#...LIFE and i have to fucking monitor myself every time i go outside and it's the warm season and i need a new pair of lighter work...

[ellemj]

Off-Limits: Ch. 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU

Read Ch. 1 here.

Summary: Bucky Barnes took the one thing he couldn't have: you. The only thing is...you didn't even know he'd done it.

Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Idk what to say about this chapter so on a more personal note...I had a birthday recently and I'm treating myself by writing more smut, getting pampered, and going to bed on time.

            James Bucky Barnes isn’t used to having to ask for what he wants. Negotiating is something he’ll only put a very limited amount of effort into, and when it becomes more trouble than it’s worth, he stops negotiating. That’s why he snapped two nights ago in your father’s home office. Well, he won’t admit it to himself or anyone else, but seeing how pretty you looked on your knees was what really made him snap. The pain of negotiating was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

            You’re definitely worth negotiating for, more so than anything else he’s ever negotiated for in his lifetime. He gave it a try, but hearing your father once again label you as off-limits would be enough to set anyone off. So, as the man sits quite comfortably in his desk chair, studying his own clean yet metaphorically blood-stained hands, he feels justified in his actions. He fired a couple of rounds, pressed the barrel of his gun to your father’s temple, and took what was his. Well, maybe that’s overstating it a bit.

            If he’d really taken what was his in the way that he wanted to, he wouldn’t be so on edge right now. He wouldn’t have had to fuck his hand both last night and this morning just to get you off of his mind long enough to make it into his office today. He knows he could’ve avoided feeling like this if he’d just told your father that he was taking you that night, that he had no say in the matter whatsoever. But no, after maiming two of your father’s men, Bucky pressed his gun to your father’s head and a pen into his hand and he proposed a deal that would keep you from resenting him for the rest of your life. Your father signed whatever he needed to in order to spare his own life, even at the expense of sending his only child into the arms of the city’s most feared man.

            You’re the last thing Bucky should be focusing on right now. His eyes flit over to the security monitor on his desk, where he sees his expected guests stepping out of a black SUV one by one and coming to stand near the entrance of his currently closed nightclub. It’s going to be another evening of negotiating. Heaving a deep sigh, Bucky shifts his gaze to the bottom right corner of the screen, where he sees his new assistant sitting just outside of his office. His new assistant who, while so attentive and polite at work, looks at him with the vilest disdain every evening when he escorts her out to the car that carries her home. One would think she’d be nothing but grateful for him, having first spared her father’s life and then taken her on as an assistant with no work experience whatsoever. You really should be grateful.

            Unless James Bucky Barnes is so far past pissed that he can barely see straight, it’s hard to tell that he’s feeling anything other than relaxed and calm. For the most part, he’s a very level-headed man. He gives people chances, he understands and accepts small mistakes and mishaps as they occur. Even now, as the three men seated in front of his desk bicker on amongst themselves, taking up entirely too much of his time, Bucky looks almost bored. His gaze routinely darts from the faces of the men in front of him, down to the golden crevices of his vibranium hand as he traces them with his flesh index finger, and then to the watch on his right wrist.

            3:58 pm.

            Two more minutes, he tells himself.

            “This is going to keep happening if we don’t post more men at the docks when a shipment is coming in, and if the men who are supposed to be there keep showing up late.” The first red-faced man snaps, unintentionally hurling a light mist of saliva at the man to his right.

            “That’s not on me, I don’t know why you’re looking at me when you say that. I’m doing the best I can with the numbers I have, we’ve lost a few good men lately and I can’t do anything about that.” The man on the right retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

            3:59 pm. Bucky’s eyes roam over to the heavy wooden doors that maintain the privacy of his office. He can hear you standing on the other side of it, taking a deep breath and pushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear before wrapping your little hand around the big metal doorknob. God, he can’t help but imagine your little hand wrapping around something else.

            The volume of the argument reaches an all-time high just as you’re tugging the heavy door open. It isn’t surprising that the quiet sound of the door sliding open doesn’t break the men out of their tiff, that only Bucky hears it.

            As soon as you’ve stepped into the office and realize what you’ve walked into, you freeze by the door. Your eyes dance over the backs of the three men who sit in front of the desk, watching as they engage with each other but none of them turn around to take notice of you. The only person who looks at you is Bucky, with his steely blue eyes and focused gaze. He watches intently as your own focus shifts to him. You’re fully expecting him to tell you to leave, that your presence isn’t needed at the moment, not when something so important is obviously going down. But he doesn’t. Bucky only stares at you, waiting to see if you’ll do your job and approach his desk.

            You take small steps toward the desk, toward the angry men that sit between you and your new boss. It isn’t until you’re halfway across the office that the man in the middle hears the sound of your heels clicking against the hardwood floor and he glances over his shoulder at you. The up-and-down look that he gives you sends a nauseating shiver down your spine while simultaneously making Bucky’s trigger finger itch.

            “You let bitches walk in here without knocking?” The middle man asks abruptly, effectively silencing the room with the way he’s just addressed Bucky. As is the norm, not a soul in the room can tell that Bucky’s seething on the inside. He keeps his cool, he remains level-headed as he makes eye contact with the burly man. He offers no words in response, and instead simply chooses to tilt his head slightly to the side as if he’s daring the man to say more. “Run along, little girls shouldn’t be privy to a man’s business. This is no place for you.”

            The man’s dark eyes are on you again, sizing you up as he waits to see how long it’ll take for you to listen to his bold command. Again, you freeze, unsure of whether to obey the piece of shit who’s just spoken or to obey Bucky’s rules. You’re too check in with him in his office every evening at four to see if he needs anything else before you leave for the night. It’s why you’re here now, in your tight black skirt, tights, heels, and black knitted sweater. It’s why you’re frozen in place, searching his eyes for any clue as to what you should be doing. Bucky says nothing, he doesn’t even so much as raise an eyebrow at you. So, you turn to head right back out the door.

            “Sit.” His tone is commanding and authoritative, ten times more so than the flushed, angry man who tried to tell you what to do only a moment ago. When James Bucky Barnes speaks, everyone listens. You turn around slowly, coming to face the desk again, but you don’t take any steps forward to do as you’ve been asked.

            Bucky would like for you to do as you’re told after only being told once. Though, he has to remind himself, you’re new to this. He can give you a little grace. If it takes being told twice for you to listen, he can work with that. But if it takes much more than that? He may have underestimated just how much trouble you’d be for him. As you hold his gaze, he fights the urge to speak again. He told you to sit, you should already be sitting. He narrows his eyes at you in one last effort to get through to you without words. That’s what spurs you into action. He watches as your legs carry you forward slowly. He watches as your eyes coast over the three men, who are staring at you with varied amounts of attraction, annoyance, and shock on their faces. You’re realizing that there isn’t a free chair anywhere in the office. Your first thought is to sit on the corner of Bucky’s mahogany desk, because where the hell else does he want you to sit? You’re making your move to perch there when you meet Bucky’s gaze again.

            The harsh, offended look on his face clears things up for you quickly. He most definitely doesn’t want you sitting on his desk. The way he pushes his chair back a few inches and spreads his legs to make room leaves a mix of anger and excitement swirling around within you. You stand there beside his desk, staring at him with a cold expression of your own. With a little tilt of his head to the side and another narrowed look, you find your legs carrying you forward once more, toward the man you’ve always been inexplicably drawn to.

            “Who is she to you? We’re not going to sit here and talk business in front of one of your little playthings. She has no part in this.” The bold middle man barks out, directing his anger at Bucky now. Bucky’s in his own world for the moment. The soft curve of your ass is pressing against the junction of his hip and his thigh, the sweet scent of your perfume is making his head spin, and the way your cheeks are turning a gentle shade of pink is making him question every illegal thing he’s ever done. It’s as if he has an actual angel in front of him right now. He’s quiet for a bit too long after the man’s harsh question, and you turn your head to look at your boss. You notice the way his normally hardened gaze softens when you make eye contact with him, the way his pupils dilate in the slightest and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smooth out. You’re lost in him for a moment, lost in the sea of blue that rims his widened pupils, lost in the way your anger seems to be dissipating more and more with every second that you look at him.

            Bucky likes that you hold eye contact with him even as he reaches up to his desk with his right hand, even as he wraps his fingers around the gun that he laid there before the meeting began. Even when he aims the gun between the eyes of the man in the middle chair, you’re still lost in his gaze. It isn’t until he pulls the trigger and ends the man’s life right there that your eyes snap shut and your body tenses up. Instinctively, Bucky’s vibranium hand moves to the small of your back to steady you, to make you feel safer.

            “Does anyone else have anything to say about my wife?”

            That’s the moment you find out that somehow, without your knowledge or agreement, you’re married to James Bucky Barnes.

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#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky x you

[callsign-artemis]

A/N: Okay okay so. Ive decided after starting my 100th rewatch of The Walking Dead that I need to write a fic. It’s OcxOc but the plot twist is that y’all won’t meet the Love interest until season 7 and I’m starting at season 1 because I’m here to COMMIT!! Everything has been proofread by @ebodebo (go follow her she’s amazing)

ANYWHO! Updates will probably be sporadic so I’m going to do my best to make all chapters after chapter 1 as long as possible🙏

Introducing: Wandering - A walking dead story

———————————————————————

Most people say they don’t remember the day the world went to shit, but I don’t think that day will ever truly unstick itself from my bones

Chapter one- the end

August 26th, 2010

The beeping of hospital monitors haunted my sleep. I’d been spending every night in uncomfortable, plastic, hospital chairs for as many nights as my mom allowed. My father Rick Grimes had been shot in the line of duty 2 weeks ago and had fallen into a coma from the blood loss. I stayed with him when my mom worked so he wasn’t alone. I’d tell him about school, keep him updated on Carl and read to him, praying he could hear me. A fresh vase of flowers at least made the room bright for when he’d wake up.

But right now I was sleeping, or trying anyway. I could feel a thin hospital blanket on me. Theo, one of the hospital's CNAs, harassed me about taking care of myself and usually I fell asleep fully clothed in their shitty chairs without a blanket.

“Peaches?” The voice behind her made Nadia practically jump out of her seat.

“Jesus Shane….you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?” Nadia asked harshly. She never liked Shane, even as a little girl they butted heads. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine why Rick would hang out with him after work.

“Nadia we need to go. Now.” He spoke quickly, making his way to her dads bed and kneeling down beside him. “Rick, if you’re gonna wake up now’s the time man, shits going down and we need to leave.”

“Shane,” Nadia laughed half heartedly “what are you talking about?” Just when she thought he was finally losing it, gunfire started to ring out from outside the door. Shane pulled Nadia down under him as she screamed. Shane covered her mouth and she would’ve bit him in different circumstances.(I mean who the hell opens gunfire in a hospital?!)

Nadia could feel the tears start to well as Shane begged her father to wake up so they could leave, telling him that if we stayed they’d all die. After a few minutes of bargaining Shane picked Nadia up and dragged her out of the room.

“No!” She tried to push against his grip but he was incredibly strong. Nadia kicked and pulled until Shane pushed her into a hallway, begging her to be quiet or else they’d be found. She peaked around the corner, Shane pulled a gurney in front of Rick’s room. There was blood everywhere, screams and gunfire echoed down the hall. Shane grabbed her arm and they ran from the hospital, Nadia broke down when they got to his pickup.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Nadia hit Shane’s arm as hard as she could over and over and over until she didn’t have it in her anymore. She knew he was hurting too but didn’t care. He left her dad there to die.

“Peaches I had to.”

“Don’t call me peaches Shane. My dad is fucking dead.”

Shane sighed again, the truck roared to life as we peeled out of the parking lot. She stared out the window, thinking of her dad. Would he die? Would they leave a comatose man’s body to sort himself out? What if he woke up and everyone was gone?

Nadia and her father had always been close. She was the stereotypical ‘daddy’s girl’, hell as soon as she was old enough to hold a rifle without falling over she and her dad had gone hunting every season. He taught her how to cook, she knew all his favorite bands and all the words to every corny song that he absolutely loved. Sometimes when Carl was a baby she and Rick would sneak out and go to the 7/11 down the block just to get candy and rent cheesy movies to watch together….and now they’d never share those moments again.

“We’re here.”

Shane’s voice broke Nadia from her daze, she looked out the window to see her mom and brother already packed up ready to hit the road. “Go’n and pack a bag, I’ll talk to your mama and Carl.”

Carl.

He was only 10…and now he’s going to find out he’ll never see his dad again and the world might be ending?? He’ll never get those moments hunting alone with his dad as the sun breaks the day. Or watch cheesy movies with her and their dad when Nadia would be home from college. Nadia could feel the bile rising once again as she made her way past her family and into her room.

She had a typical 17 year olds room. Honestly, the floor was littered with laundry she needed to do as well as some CDs she’d rummaged through that morning. Her walls were a neon teal, they’d mostly been covered with posters of movies and bands, and paintings she’d created out of boredom. She tried to soak in every inch of her room in case she’d never see it again. As she started to pack she took a Polaroid off her wall.

“Jeez Anthony….you should be at practice right around now. Please be safe.”

She tucked the Polaroid of her and her best friend into the pocket of her backpack and kept packing. Just the essentials: a couple pairs of jeans, some tee shirts, boots, hat, dads hunting jacket, socks…toothbrush? Definitely a toothbrush. A hairbrush and a few notebooks and pens (and some comic books for Carl). She also made the decision to pack her hunting rifle in case they got stuck foraging for food, as well as a heavy knife.

She threw her bag into the back of the truck so that no one would suspect how heavy it was. Her mom and brother were crying into Shane as he had just broken the news. Or however he’d spun the story…but Nadia knew the truth that Shane had abandoned his “best friend”. Shane loaded everyone up into the truck and said they’d be headed to Atlanta and that the military would help them.

“Are we going to die?”

While it was spoken barely above a whisper, the question jolted Nadia out of her daydreamed haze. She looked down at her brother Carl who was laying in her lap.

“No baby. Because I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe, and so will mom and Shane.” Nadia tried her best to reassure him, rubbing his back softly. She’d instructed him to lay in her lap so he couldn’t see the panic that the rest of the world was in.

Before they knew it, they’d left King County and were headed to Atlanta. Nadia fiddled with her cross necklace, Carl had fallen asleep leaving the truck uncomfortably quiet.

The Grimes weren’t really a religious family but Nadia did occasionally attend Wednesday night Youth Group with her best friend Anthony when she was in town. The necklace was a gift from him.

Anthony. There he was on her mind again, she’d thought about calling him but Lori demanded she save her battery incase of emergency. Anthony Smith had been her best friend since middle school. They did everything together and were practically attached at the hip when they saw each other. He was a year older than her but that never mattered in how close they were.

Anthony was actually quite soft spoken, and smart as a whip. He was a tall kid, probably standing at about 6’3. He was built like an athlete, but he had to be with Track and field. They actually became friends at a track meet in sixth grade and kept up with eachother daily through AOL and Skype. And obviously only hung around each other at said meets. Anthony’s dad was a PE teacher and Coach so he definitely fueled the athletic fire in both kids. Anthony has always been a sweet kid and even when he was an asshole Nadia could never be mad at-

“Nadia! Get your head out of the clouds I’m talking!”

Nadia jolted in her seat, there she was daydreaming again. Lori was giving her daughter quite the concerned look.

“Where are we mom?” Nadia looked out the window to see full bumper to bumper traffic.

“Outside of Atlanta but as you can see we’re stuck in traffic” Shane answered from outside, with quite an annoyed tone Nadia noticed. She ignored Shane and hopped out of the truck so she could stretch her legs.

“Where’s Carl? I think I threw some comic books in my bag, I’m sure he’s bored out of his mind sitting here.” Nadia looked around and spotted Carl a few cars down playing checkers with a girl who looked to be about his age. She had a short blonde bob and a smile as bright as the sun. Nadia smiled in amusement and made her way to the car with her mom. “Someone has a cru-ush!” She teased in a sing-song voice. She yelped when Carl turned around and smacked her arm as hard as he could.

“Mo-om!!! Carl hit me!”

“Don’t tease your brother then!” She laughed. Nadia rolled her eyes and fluffed her brother's hair before sitting behind him to watch the kids play. Right as she sat down a woman came from the front of the car with waters. She was a smaller woman with buzzed gray hair.

“Oh! You must be Nadia, I’m Carol!” She had a smile just as bright as Sofias, Nadia made a mental note that they must be related. Nadia smiled and thanked her for the water, and just as she took a sip Carl enacted his revenge.

“You say I have a crush on a girl I just met when you’ve been after Anthony since forever.” Nadia showered the back of Carls with the water she had just taken a sip of and was prepared to cuss him out when the commotion started. Bombs were dropping into Atlanta.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Nadia screamed as she pulled the kids down to the ground underneath Carol’s car. She moved her body over the both of them so they would be shielded if anything came down.

The rest of the night was a blur. Shane grabbed everyone’s bags from the truck, grunting as he lifted Nadia’s particularly heavy bag. They ran into the woods with Carol, her husband Ed, and Sophia. There were screams in the distance and somehow Nadia and the kids got separated from the rest of the group. They ran until they came up on a high spot with a small clearing.

“Stop right there.” The shotgun barrel was aimed right between Nadia’s eyes. They widened with fear as Nadia put both her hand in front of her slowly.

“Sir, we’re just trying to get off the road…I have two small kids with me, please.”

The man’s aim faltered and Nadia rushed him, taking the gun and pointing it back at him. It probably wasn’t her smartest move but she had Sophia and Carl to look out for. There was a shriek behind her and Nadia whipped around just in time to shoot a man who was trying to get Sophia. Wait…what the hell?

Nadia slowly crept up to the man. He looked pale, his eyes were white and glossy and there was fresh blood around his mouth.

“Good aim kid. I’m sorry I pointed that thing at you. I just had to make sure you weren’t like him. The names Dale, you kids can stay with me and the girls tonight and we’ll look for your crew in the morning.” Dale smiled at her warmly, he was an older man judging by his white hair. But he had kind eyes and it was late so Nadia decided he could he trusted for the night.

She nodded, grabbing the kids as they headed into Dale's RV. There were two blonde girls sitting on the couch. One older one younger, Nadia figured they were probably sisters.

“Dale, who are they?” The older blonde asked, glaring at the three kids.

“Easy Andrea, the older one can take out those things like you wouldn’t believe!” Dale smiled back at Nadia. “They’re just staying for the night and…I didn’t get your name sweetheart?”

“Nadia. Nadia Grimes.”

———————————————————————

2nd A/N: (I will also be posting this story on Ao3 & Wattpad under Artemis Bradshaw_writes/Art_Bradshaw_Writes)

#the walking dead #ao3 fanfic #wandering #oc #Nadia Grimes having beef w Shane for no reason is actually me #zombie apocolypse au #the walking dead au #fanfic #yall I cannot wait for Nadia to get Shane’s ASS #rick grimes #carl did Nadia so dirty bring up Anthony like that but she deserved it

[beneaththegildedmoon]

Called the pharmacy every day last week to reorder my meds but they never answered so I phoned again today to see if they could possibly rush-order them so I wouldn't be without them on my trip home for 2 weeks but they guy on the phone genuinely seemed not to understand what I was saying and just kept repeating that the meds would be ready to collect on Thursday, by which point I will not be here to collect them. So I tried using the NHS app to remove them as a pharmacy bc to be honest this is far from the first time I've struggled getting my meds ordered and dispensed from them on time and I can't keep doing this.

Turns out, you can't remove a nominated pharmacy from the NHS app, you can only replace it with another pharmacy. But I need to be able to bring the prescription to whatever pharmacy has my meds in stock *today* or I'll be off my meds for two weeks while I'm out of town. So I had to phone up my GP surgery to get them removed and also hopefully try to figure out how tf to get access to my meds today or find a way I can get the prescription filled abroad.

The GP has implemented an automated system for dealing with prescription-related calls, which required a code to access. I have not been given a code. So, I have to go to a different app to fill out a request for a code. I finally receive the code and go through the automated system only to reach a point where it can't resolve the issue and asks if I want to speak directly to someone at the GP surgery.

I obviously say yes and then end up on hold for half an hour waiting to talk to someone who can please help me with this oh my fucking god I'm going insane

The lovely woman who eventually gets connected is very polite but explains that there's no way to have my prescription filled outside the UK because its a repeat prescription and so they need to be able to monitor how many times its filled and they can't do that if its filled in another country. Makes sense I guess. She also explains that there's no way to get an emergency 2-week supply prescribed without first having an appointment with my GP. Also makes sense I guess. Alas, there are *no appointments available today* but if I phone back very early tomorrow they may be able to fit me in.

I explained that I will be on a flight at 10pm today and wouldn't be able to come in for an appointment tomorrow even if I could manage to get one. She asked why I didn't try to sort this sooner? I started crying quietly on the other end of the line because holy shit I've been trying to get this sorted for a week now, and I'm once again going insane

I consider hanging up and cancelling my trip altogether so I can at least get my meds in the next few days, but instead I ask if she can at least remove my current nominated pharmacy because I truly cannot keep dealing with this shit every 2-3 months. She takes pity on me, I think realising the pharmacy issue is why I'm having to phone the gp so last-minute and asks me to hold for a moment while she sorts something out.

By the time she reconnects, I have managed to pull myself together enough to stop crying, but frankly, I'm holding on by a thread rn. My guardian angel the GP receptionist tells me she has removed the pharmacy from my profile and has also spoken to the GP and convinced her to give me a phone appointment at the very end of the day, after her regular appointment hours, to try and get this sorted out. I start crying again from relief.

She reminds me that I will need to figure out a pharmacy that is open late to hopefully get my prescription filled at and hangs up. I am now frantically looking up pharmacies in my area that might be open late. Thankfully, there are a few chain ones that will be open and are hopefully big enough to have my meds in stock. I'm clinging for dear life to the hope that the GP will be able to give me the prescription this evening and that somewhere will be able to fill it.

It should not be this difficult

[ccrissproductions]

We Are Our Own Muse

Hi! I've been writing this fanfic based off of my maladaptive daydreams (thank you ADHD) combining my two favorite artist, Fall Out Boy and Kendrick Lamar, that includes a few OCs (based off of the life of myself and of the featured artists). Now problem is this is an adoption fic. I know-- I know, that is such a Wattpad-ten-years-ago thing to write. I know I'm sorry.

With that said, I'm like eight chapters in and I have no idea on whether or not I should post it. I figured post a few chapters here and see how it goes.

Chapter One: Destiny Child Enthusiasts

I would like to start off by saying that I am not a bad kid. 

Troubled? Maybe.

Misunderstood? Most definitely.

But bad? Nah; never. 

Okay? 

Bad kids don't use semicolons.

I'm just trying. 

Okay?

I'm trying. 

Right now, I'm trying to figure out how you get a mosquito bite under an ankle monitor. 

I don't even go outside for real.

I sat curled up on my bed with my headphones on.

Playlist been ended, they were just comfortable to wear. My solace, actually.

They were actually a birthday gift from my old P.O.

I just turned fourteen a week ago. Three days before that, I was in L.A. 

Now, I'm in Chicago. 

From one orphanage to the next. 

At least this time I get the attic to myself. 

I look at the sketch pad beside me and realize I've been spaced out for a while now. 

I tried to scratch that mosquito bite again--- that shit itches. 

I haven't been in the system for long. Five years ain't long. 

And I'm not an orphan.

This no "orphan Annie" shit either; I know my parents.

My aunties.

My uncles.

My grandmothers.

All that. 

Damn this bite itch. 

There was a knock on the attic door before someone peaked their head in. 

"Hey Stein," It was 3J. 

3J was a muscular man, dark brown in tone with a five o'clock shadow. His dreads were twisted and styled back in a way that reminded me of ram horns. 

I offered a small smile and an even smaller wave. 

"You coming down for lunch?" He asked, resting his arms on the floor. I shook my head 'no.'

"Criss (did I mention my name wasn't Stein) you didn't come down for breakfast this morning." 

I was not awake. 

The best thing about being in the attic--- you miss the wake up call.

I offered him a blank stare instead of my actual thoughts.

He returned a stern look.

Reluctantly, I get off my bed and move towards the trap door. 

"Thank you," 3J said as he climbed down the step ladder. 

He brushed off the nonexistent dust off his polo and khakis and started walking down the hall.

I followed after him. 

I watch everyone race towards the cafeteria. 

I walked behind 3J as we headed to the same destination. 

"You know your P.O. should be visiting soon?" 3J started. I smack my teeth.

Fuck that bitch. 

She's not the one who gave me the headphones--- nah, I got moved off her roster and passed to this new joint. 

This new one is the type who only has this job to make herself feel like a good Samaritan or some shit. 

The type to brag about the 'work she does' and the 'dangers she faces' to her friends while seeing every person that looks like me on her roster as future criminals or low lives.

God, I hate that bitch.

"We'll be able to tell her that you haven't been into any trouble lately," 3J continued.

Right, cause why get into trouble when I'm already wearing an ankle bracelet?

And define 'we;' you can converse, I'm just there to be present.

"Maybe, she can help convince the judge to get that bracelet off," he spoke hopefully, but I knew better. 

Shawty ain't doing that. You have to care to even attempt to do something that generous. She can give a shit less about me.

3J looked back at me and read the expression on my face and sighed. 

"Just be nice." 

As the saying goes, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Note how I'm silent all the time.

We made it to the cafeteria, and some kid shoved me as he ran inside.

I grab a tray and fall in line. Some girls get behind me.

"Ooh, rat bitch out her hole," the light-skinned one, looking like a Great Value Tessa Thompson spoke first. 

"Bitch needs to get her hair done," the dark-skinned girl insulted next. 

Her boyfriend was sucking her brother's dick last night--- but that's none of my business. 

"She needs some new clothes," the brown-skinned girl spoke last.

Honestly, she would be fuckable if she just shut up.

Her voice is irritating.

And she needs a new lace wig.

I got my food. Immediately, I considered escaping back to my room. Unfortunately, 3J is blocking the entrance that led to the attic and the extrovert in him is not going to let me not be in a social environment. 

So, I chose the emptiest table and sat on the emptiest side of that table.

Why in the fuck did these Destiny's Child enthusiasts sit across from me??

Someone please give me the answer, 'cause I want to know. 

I poked at the food on my plate. 

Lasagna day. I actually like lasagna day.

"Hi," 'Tessa' drawled out with a slight roll of her neck, Chicago accent thick in her voice. 

I looked up at her. 

I looked back down at my plate and took a bite out of my food. 

Could use some salt.

"What? you don't know how to speak?" The brown skin one (her name was actually Tatiyana. Her name didn't actually fit her, but, oh well), spoke, she eyed me with expectation.

Of course, I know how to speak. I just don't have nothing to say to y'all bitches.

I took another bite out of my food.

The dark-skin girl grabbed my tray and threw it across the table. The plate made a loud clatter as it hit the floor.

I eyed the room. 

All eyes on us.

"Well?" 

Do you know how entitled you have to be to start a fight with someone who don't talk?

Doesn't 'entitled orphan' seem like such an oxymoron?

...Bitch probably can't even spell 'oxymoron.'

I rolled my eyes, sat back in my chair, and crossed my arms; respectively. Without saying a word, I was daring them to jump.

Offense painted their faces like graffiti.

The princess and her puppets stood up from the table-- a silent threat. 

"Ay!" 3J called as he jogged over to us.

Fake ass Bianca Creed snarled. I watched her and her posse walk off. 

3J stood a few feet from me with his hand on his hips. 

I walked to him, and we started to leave the cafeteria.

"Stein, what did we just talk about?" 3J started to scold me.

I huffed and tucked my hands into my hoodie's pockets.

I didn't do anything.

"I saw the whole thing, Criss," He continued.

And you let them get that close to me? Damn, I thought we were cool.

He sighed deeply as we made it back to my hole in the ceiling.

"Just try, ok?" 

Still, did not do anything, but whatever nigga.

I nodded and went back into the attic. 

I laid back on my bed, earphones back on and still no music playing.

That mosquito bite pangs with irritation as I stare up at the ceiling.

My stomach growls.

I'm hungry.

#fall out boy #fanfiction #kendrick lamar #fanfic #adoption #fic #mania era #fob smfs #smfs era #might delete later #ao3 writer

[drvnkd4zed]

Given taken, ep 2

"So, this is my room?" I asked. Jake nodded and pointed at my key, then at the door. "It's written on it" he said shyly. He took the silver key I was holding in my hand and threw it on his bed. "I'm sure you're confused about all of this but don't worry, I'm here to be your guide". On the bed on the right, there was another number engraved, "1001" written in white on a dark brown wood. "Maybe, you could provide me some context, what's this place and why am I here" I said. The red light coming from outside unveiled in a blue light. "Well, I can't give an answer to all those questions, but you can find out who you are and learn how to live here" he explained. He sat on the bed on the left, crossing his legs. Our beds were kind of high, too high for Jake's feet to reach the ground. He seemed to feel embarassed by that, but it made me smile. "I don't know what your name is and since I couldn't remember mine either, I named myself Jake. If the guards give you a name, then you can't change it anymore. You have a limited amount of time... so that's what you have to know about names. If you want to know about memories, then you can't remember anything because before the Whites took us here, we were all dead". When Jake announced that, I laughed at him. I couldn't believe he was already trying to prank me, even with that serious look. His eyes fulminated mine, making me regret laughing so much.

"Can-can you explain that?" I asked. Jake didn't look annoyed, but used to see confusion and disbelief in people. "How did we die? How did I die? How is it possible for us to be alive?" I asked again. "I'm not sure, but I think the government fucked up the entire planet, there was this... this clan studying resurrection for centuries, they selected only young and healthy people to make sure we can claim our Earth back" - I was listening to every single word coming out from his mouth - "They study, scan, monitor us. I'll be honest, sometimes they can be very cruel but since you're a newbie, they won't bother you that much as long as you don't hurt the other guys". I was shaking and sweating listening to all of that. Even if I couldn't remember a thing, I was sensing something weird in the air there. "How can you talk about it so carelessly?" Jake smiled at me, straightened his legs and sighed. "I woke up here two years ago. I've seen shit, it is weird but I can tell that the idea of "normal" you have is different here. You'll get used to it".

As he said that, I started questioning myself. What was my life like before? The thought of beginning a new life scared me, even if I couldn't remember the past one. "Is it easy to get along with people here?" I asked, hoping in a positive answer. One thing I could do to settle in was making friends or try to communicate with the others. "I've made some friends, but we're not allowed to see them whenever we want, we only have some specific hours of the day" he explained.

In that moment, someone knocked on the door. I looked at Jake scared, but he seemed calm. What if the person knocking was the person who bit that guy of before? They knocked again, but this time they broke in directly. A boy dressed up in blue came in with a smile on his face, Jake welcomed him and I deducted he must've been one of his friends. Jake left his bed to greet the boy, hugging him quickly. Them both glanced at me, who was visibly confused. "Speaking of friendships" - Jake started - "He's Jay" he finally said pointing at the guy.

"What's your name?" Jay asked me, leaving me silent. I was going to open my mouth to answer, but nothing came into my mind. "She doesn't have one already" Jake replied for me as Jay sat next to me, facing Jake. "I heard you woke up today, such a bad timing, waking up to someone attempting a murder" Jay commented, chuckling. I was swept away by his confidence, he looked so intimidating. "You wanna know what happened?" Jay asked Jake, gaining our attentions. "What?" "About that Jungwon situation, I'm pretty sure Sunoo is involved. Last night, I saw them two sneaking in the morgue together but Sunoo only came back to his room" He explained, looking genuinely worried. "Did you spy on the security cameras again?" Jake asked. Jay nodded, proudly. Jake seemed to be very shocked. "Can you tell me what happened?" I asked, shyly. "As you heard today, someone tried to murder our friend, whoever tried it failed but no one knows where is the culprit or who they are" Jay replied to me. "You don't have to worry, the Whites will find the culprit soon" Jake reassured me with a sweet tone, but it was still hard to calm down. Jay looked down, just like when you feel a heavy weight on your chest. "Sometimes I wonder if my dad really had to pay that much to give me some useless privileges here. I could've been murdered yesterday. I hate it so much" he said with his voice craking from time to time. "Jay" - Jake called - "Are there any footages from the last floor? How come there are no cameras in the morgue?" he asked. "They only filmed the entrance" Jay answered. "If Sunoo's the one who tried to kill Jungwon, we could be the next"

#enhypen #enhypen reaction #kpop #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #niki #enhypen reactions #enhypen fanfictions #enhypen imagines #kpop fanfictions #enhypen fanfiction

[promiseiwillwrite]

Whatever Comes Up - June

As this month draws to a close, I have had the most anticlimactic triumph of my life.

I figured out a part of the brokenness of me, and Knew what to do with and about it when I found it.

And I have been gasping at the edges of the power vacuum it left in my psyche.

The Anxiety isn't done with me, apparently, but the largest driver of it has properly Fucked Off.

Don't Believe your mind if it tells you that other people Don't want you to be yourself. EVEN IF THAT IS TRUE.

Because you can't really confirm this idea. And you should believe whatever makes your life suck less over something True and Awful.

Obviously, know, if that is in your power, when your relationships are very deeply one sided, and when you are bending over backward to keep them, and when you constantly self monitor. You might be better off stepping away.

And Yes, it is Lonely. But Loneliness is not a punishment. Loneliness can give you real space to Rest.

And I've done that a lot lately. I have been binge watching cartoons, and spending hours on my couch in the basement.

Maybe it looks like depression from the outside. Maybe it IS depression, of a sort. Maybe I am numbing out after a Lifetime of Pushing myself to be something I am not for EVERYONE in my life, Always.

And maybe I am trying to weigh what a best life looks like for me without that pressure. What does motivation look like? Who am I really without Constant effort to present at what people want me to be, or to be perfect and useful for others? Where do I go? What do I do?

My answer, on many days, has been "I Am Tired." And that has been an EXCELLENT expression of how I feel. And rather than being shit to myself, and pushing through, I have Allowed myself to do what tired people naturally do left to their own devices. I have laid around watching TV after work instead of the Millions of busy things I spent Years telling myself I needed to do.

I have been Resting, and not feeling even one piece of guilt. Except maybe for the plants... They are probably a little thirsty. I've not been as attentive as I maybe should for them.

My house is Trashed.

My Laundry hamper is Full.

My Floors are Dirty.

But Resting has been more important, because the Burnout has been so Deep.

Today, I came home again and finished Steven Universe.

I've watched it before, of course. But re-watching it now was a very different experience. I have matured. I have a better understanding of some of the more nuanced emotional and identity stuff in there.

I also didn't catch Jamie running off with the former mayor of Beach City after Garnet's Wedding last time.

I have, however, come to an archetypal understanding of some pop culture deities.

I think there is a Trickster. The Shyster, The Snake Oil Salesman, The Grifter the Wizard... the man behind the curtain.

And I think there is Belonging.

There are a hundred thousand messages in cartoons now... And one thing that comes through some shows, and some media, Clear and Strong, is the Importance of Belonging. Every God has a Netherface... And Tribalism is that for this entity. This is their TIME. This world as we know it will be Transformed by the dynamic interaction between these two facets.

Friendship is Magic, dears. Understanding one another and seeking to make a place for each other is priceless.

And fascism is Horrible, and growing in Power. They want to be bound together in common Hatred. But you get a cool uniform, and you get to be in a secret club.

Belonging speaks to me through my Diversity, Equity and Inclusion work. It isn't the same as communicating with some of the other entities I've known. But This entity connected with me the other day when I was making some copies of the material for an activity in August. I felt like I was Alive. I felt like I was Myself. I felt like this was part of what I was meant to do as a person. I believed that it could make a positive difference for people around me. It tasted of Hope. It didn't promise fame. It didn't promise Ease. It promised incremental, difficult changes. It promised Conviction. It promised a clear sense of what right and wrong are, that could help people find their Own understanding. And it was Inside me. It was For Me. Because this is what I have wanted as a person my Whole life... I have wanted it because I couldn't believe I already had it.

#whatever comes up

[hootsifer-darling]

Gonna get personal for a sec, I've been in a car for 7< hours and the mind does wander. I'm just thinking about how, for the one summer I stayed with him after turning 18, my dad was pathologically incapable of just letting me exist and do my own thing. Every decision I made was questioned and commentated on, down to going outside for my nightly before bed walk. "Really, are you sure you need to do that? Why? oookayy I guess." I was put through the wringer just asking for the house security codes so alarms wouldn't start screaming if I so much as walked down the stairs (there were door alarms and movement sensors on the first floor, and later cameras were installed literally everywhere, it was insane. Not outside btw, inside, explicity for monitoring US). I had to ask for those codes btw, they weren't offered up as being part of the household; he wanted us caged and monitored, and anything I ever asked for was treated as some huge imposition.

Then there was the time I sprained my ankle at an open gym and wanted to call out of work and he treated that like the most insane propostion ever. 'No you can't call out of work?? Your ankle is fine don't be ridiculous.' And after I called out boy did he lay on the passive aggression. 'You really shouldn't have done that, your bosses will be so let down, etc.' Anyway I limped up and down the stairs to get all my food for several days. Every day he was like 'ankle still bother you huh,' so incredulous like I was faking it out of laziness.

Oh and then there was the whole thing where I was forced to conform to their 5/6 am wakeup schedule, which I fucking did for over a month. I would zombie walk downstairs, have some cereal, and then camp on the couch and watch TV with headphones on my computer, present and unobtrusive. I found a way to do something my body and brain was wired not to and even found some joy in the routine. But even that wasn't enough, eventually the demands started that I lose the TV and "participate" with the family, despite the fact that they were basically all doing the same thing. God forbid I did something he wanted on my own terms.

So anyway that was around the halfway point of the summer and although I couldn't put my finger on what it was I started to notice I was being forced to do an awful lot of stuff I didn't want to and was actively impeding my enjoyment of day to day life. So I started sleeping in, letting my body do its thing. I was forcibly awakened a few times by various means, the most sinister of which was turning "wake Adam up" into a game for the 7 and 3 year olds for about a week before he finally accepted defeat on that particular battle. Maybe I started locking my door idk.

Anyway things got progressively worse over the next month as I started planting my feet on various things I felt didn't make sense, and as it turns out questioning a narcassist's authority is a fast-track to getting kicked out for being disrespectful lol. Not gonna go into that whole day but after that I finally decided that being there made me feel bad and I should probably leave. I didn't even start unpacking the events of that summer for two years. I had to quit the job I'd been at for about 3 months which was a very embarassing and stressful thing to do for the first job I'd ever had, but I said my "home situation wasn't working" and the managers all understood and one even told me very earnestly "go be happy Adam" which remains one of the most profoundly kind things anyone has ever said to me.

My dad's favorite thing to say ever since moving to Florida was always "well you can always come live with us" (a fucked up thing to say to the pre teens you abandoned), but when I finally gave it a try boy did he make sure it was so miserable that it only lasted 4 months and none of us ever tried it again.

But to end this on a more positive note I'm really proud of myself for deciding to leave even though in the moment I wasn't sure why I was so unhappy, I just knew that I was and that I could leave, so I did, and I think that was pretty huge of me. And also pretty metal to pin my resignation on him: "sorry I have to quit, I tried living with my dad and it's just not working." Considering he made me cry on the way to my interview for said job I think it was only fair.

#that was more than a sec lol #turned into a bit of a rant #I think this is gonna go on the sideblog actually #personal #rants #cw: trauma dump

[swampgallows]

enrichment, enclosure, etc.

i am enjoying the new wow xpac but also i really want to go outside and do things again :/ 

cant walk xena because of her leg and even though ive been getting up at relatively normal times the sun goes down at 4pm and all of that so i havent even been going on walks around the neighborhood

i do not leave the house for weeks at a time. 

im tired of eating, and ive been getting nauseous and dizzy a lot lately so ive only been eating maybe once or twice a day. im pretty sure it’s because i’m getting zero physical activity, except for the ringfit i do every other day, which i had to drastically reduce the difficulty of compared to the start of the year and it’s still kicking my ass because ive been so insanely sedentary. still heavier than i used to be, and i dare not weigh myself now. it will only make the situation even harder to deal with.

i recently got a ton of records but i have zero desire to play them let alone stream. really bummed about how the transitions in my headphones are not actually what’s going through the master, so most of my recordings are complete trainwrecks. i didnt realize this because i didnt have monitors until recently (getting to use them is a whole other issue). also annoyed that nobody told me, so all this time ive been like “i’ll dj! i’ll stream!” thinking ive been improving, and it turns out it’s been sloppy ka-chunk ka-chunk shit the entire time.

i havent been listening to music at all of any kind. it just bums me out. i cant remember the last time i danced. ive just been listening to podcasts and audiobooks or voice chat, save for the first week of dragonflight where i immersed myself in the game audio and nothing else.

between dragonflight and watching the extended lotrs over the last few weeks ive been aching for adventure and the life i used to live. not just road trips and raves and all of that, but the magic of strangers and the miles-long journeys on foot. 

im tired of writing this. but my therapist retired. i was assigned a new one, who is dogshit, and i will be meeting with her on wednesday specifically to have her refer me to a new therapist. i will be hard pressed to get someone as professional as my previous one, as part of the reason she retired when she did is because she knew the upcoming changes were not conducive to any actual treatment or improvement for mental health.

people love to dish out platitudes like “you’re not alone” and “you can get help” and “talk to your doctor”. feeding me wax fruit when im fucking starving. they say that shit because theyve never bit into this. they have no idea that it might look good on the outside, but the inside, it’s all hollow

#blathering

[sunlightswallowed]

Fucking calm down Greg it’s tumblr rp

Okay. Listen. I know this was probably meant to piss me off and give you a giggle about how It’s Not That Deep, Bro. But let me tell you a story. I don’t like bringing current events into RP space so I’m gonna try to tag this as thoroughly as possible, so people aren’t triggered or made uncomfortable. But I’m tired of being told to calm down.

I am a substitute teacher. I work in a middle school with fifth through eighth grade. I have spent the last two years dealing with Covid protocols and having to enforce them in a school district where most of the parents think the whole thing is a hoax and wearing a mask is traumatic for Little Timmy. I’ve done all this while being unable to tell anyone I know my preferred pronouns or the name I gave myself because being openly queer could lose me my job.

I have, in one school year, dealt with five students between fifth and eighth grade attempting suicide. I have dealt with one kind, sweet fifth grade girl, attempting more than once while at school. I have had a child tell me every single day that he wants to die, and all I can do is send him to the counselor. I have been hit and kicked and bruised and then been yelled at because my tone when telling Bobby not to physically hurt me was too harsh. I had a kid ask me today if it was safe to go outside for the end of the year pool party.

I have done all of that while legally blind, while trying to navigate a world that is not meant to be accessible to me, and facing mockery when I trip or need help, or being accused of faking because I have a phone and I have some vision so I can’t be Really Blind. I have constant headaches because of the strain trying to monitor 25 kids at a time puts on my one half-functional eye.

I woke up today thinking about what the hell I’m supposed to do if some monster with a gun happens to come in while I’m substituting. And I come home. To where I can relax. To where I can get on my computer and read and write and pretend I live in a kinder world where I don’t have to think about these things. And all I see is people talking about how a small box on their screen irritates them or is stupid or is a waste of time even though it’s a function that can help me access a space that feels safe for me better. And there are so many things going on in my life that I’m angry about and can’t do anything about. But I’ll be damned if I don’t at least make my voice heard on this one little thing that I Might be able to influence people on.

I’m so fucking sick of being told to calm down. Fuck you.

#covid 19 tw // #covid 19 mention tw // #shooting // #school violence // #shooting tw // #school violence tw // #current events tw // #child death tw // #mental health tw // #attempted suicide tw // #suicide tw // #I will put this under a read more when I get home and can use my laptop #but after that I think I’m logging off for at least tonight. sorry if I harshed anyones vibes

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

four week review/pre-up nonsense:

♡ being an objectively kind person is always easier while disassociating, but it does always raise the question of whether it makes it more or less real

(vs whether being kind being difficult makes it more or less real)

(vs whether any of this is relevant to each other)

♡ the intrusive thoughts have not stopped (or like. lessened. lmao) but they have been easier to stop from spiraling+recognize the starts of spiraling.

this is likely (&unfortunately) a sign that upping the dosage is the right move.

♡ exactly half the time i think i'm actually more creative because i'm slightly more likely to actually complete my ideas (vs performance anxiety eating me alive)

&half the time i am in fact positive that my creativity is ruined&i'll never recover&it will always be a choice between madness&being boring (a choice i will fail at every time which is unfortunate but also not surprising bc its mostly on purpose)

♡ my memory is perhaps better than its ever been, as is my awareness of my actions.

will continue to monitor whether this is acceptable, because if it continues to be a hindrance, it isn't, lmao.

remembering now why i've spent large portions of my life running from my own memories. am i really expected to process these things? what a waste of time.

♡ my view on forgiveness has not changed at all, lmao, so the worst it can be is a personality defect, not a mental illness, as far as i'm concerned, lmao.

♡ my anger issues have not gotten better but they have gotten easier to control+manage. i feel less like a rabid dog. more... rabid bunny. much easier to cage&much fluffier to look at when detached.

this feels acceptable, but only if not directly reliant upon the disassociation. everything is always toned down with the disassociation, lmao, that isn't a decent tradeoff.

♡ have been intaking way too much yandere media as of late. most significant passive sign for concern in regards to my mental+emotional state sliding backwards, lmao.

♡ perfection. perfection. perfection. i. need. to. be. perfect.

most significant active sign for concern in regards to my mental+emotional state sliding backwards, lmao.

♡ no sudden spike in suicidal tendencies, including/especially dangerous situations.

definitive win.

♡ seeing as most/all of my confidence comes from defiance (most aptly demonstrated by the fact that it primarily appeared right around deciding to stay out to keep from being outted), slightly to the left of my body makes that significantly easier to pull off.

value also debatable. keeping my head up while walking down the street being easier is useful, but also not worth the disassociation tradeoff, &also much more likely to be reliant on it, lmao.

♡ remembering (not that i ever really forgot lmao) why strong feelings&passion, of virtually any sort, have been my most consistent and damning drugs for virtually the whole of my life. def my whole adulthood.

i have spent all day fucking with the newly bloodied hole in my head because i don't how to keep myself from feeling if feeling is an option, lmao. this is the poetic way of saying i have no self control.

♡ clearly, my ability to romanticize total fucking nonsense is still here. yet another personality defect at worst, lmao.

♡ the idea of an oncologist who specializes in gastric cancers&disordered eating still makes me nauseous as all fuck, but it no longer makes my vision blur with the heart palpitations.

definitive win.

♡ i think i'm harder on myself when i disassociate to any degree. or maybe thinking that in general is giving myself too much credit. i feel a little like dr. manhattan while he reflects on time from outside of it. is this proof that i hate myself or proof that i think too highly of myself?

the meds were supposed to make the mania happen less, not make it harder for me to figure out if it's going on. will continue to monitor-- like that'll make it any easier.

♡ i get a minimum of ~350 calories a day from actual food&not only juice now because the idea of lapsing on my meds&rebounding terrifies me, lmao. i can hate myself enough at any given moment to let my anxiety make me starve, but not nearly enough to make myself go through that. lmao.

definitive win.

♡ at least half of my doing this right now is to avoid having to sleep.

the meds were supposed to make sleep easier. this has been decidedly untrue.

♡ the taste of blood in my mouth is such a regular occurrence that i didn't notice it at all during the procedure or at any point after today.

this kind of stupid observation is exactly why disassociation is bullshit, actually, &i would rather feel than not. anything. feel anything. than not.

♡ i wonder how much of this is actually gonna make it into my appointment, lmao. i'm positive i can edit most of this into roughly acceptable for a learned doctor. maybe not the yandere thing or the confidence thing, but probably at least ~75%.

♡ believe it or not (&i don't i think), the disassociation issue with these meds has actually been getting a little better. i don't know if this is optimism (cause: obvious) or masochism (cause: fretting over the upped dosage probably resetting it)

♡ i owe the goddamn red string everything for never abandoning me along the way, goddammit, so i guess there's no getting around any of this if i ever expect to be half way stable enough to pay it all back.

every single day i wish i didn't believe in destinies or needing to be worthy of them, good or bad, lmao.

#idk what to tw this w but for the record its late night free rambles for my four week appt lmao so theres that lmao. #something something think therefore i am. something something tree falls in the woods&no one hears it did it fall??? #idk im Unwell thats the whole reason why i have to do this nonsense in the first place lmao #i do genuinely believe at the very least the bulk of this is salvagable however so ill get on that after sleep&food tomorrow. or w/e. lmao.

[coolgirlcomics]

Introduction... or something like that. 

If I am being honest, I can be a bit snobish with my love for comics or anything nerdy that I am passionate about. It’s definitely something I’m working on... Although its hard not to boast when you have first prints and first issues of a lot of the comics people are just now getting in to... lol ok I’ll stop!

The truth is I’ve been reading comics since I was 12 (21 years now) and it wasn’t always the “cool” thing to do. I was not cool. I was a nerd. I wasn’t only a nerd but I honestly just didn’t know how to read. It was hard because I have a huge imagination and to think there was a time in my life that I just couldn’t read but desperately wanted to makes me somewhat sad. 

I was in slow learning classes my whole life. At 12 I was reading at a preschool reading level and I got made fun of a lot for this. And then one day in science class a girl I barely knew but sat next to was reading a comic about this cute little dead girl named Lenore. She let me try to read the first issue and with the imagery/word combination for the first time I was able to read something other than Spot Jump Over the Big red Ball and was intoxicatingly sucked in to Lenore. 

Every month my new science class friend’s uncle would pick up each new issue for us as they came out. AND Each month I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I got to experience a written story that wasn’t a children’s books. On top of being able to read something with a story that was meant for a more mature audiance the art work was so fucking cute. I LOVED IT! Every bit of it. I still have all of these issues because they play a huge role in my life. Who would have thought a comic about a cute little dead girl would be the leading factor in to how I taught myself how to read. 

My ultimate goal was to be able to read all of the Harry Potter books that were out at the time. So impatient and incapable of waiting a whole month for the new issue of Lenore I started going to comic book stores on my own and searching out comics with deep storylines and intense visuals to hold me over. Eventually it turned in to me waiting each month for not just Lenore but all of the other amazing series I had discovered along the way. 

Wednesday’s started to be my most favorite day. New comic release day! 

It didn’t take long before I was able to read Harry Potter amongst other amazing novels. Harry Potter being the very first chapter book I was able to read. AND LET ME TELL YOU... I couldn’t put the books down. I would wait in line for the new title midnight releases with my mom (she was just happy I was reading and excited about it) and I would sit in the downstairs study and just read until my eyes bleed. 

I remember my mom walking by the room one day and looking in and muttering to herself “I can’t believe she’s reading” and to be totally honest I couldn’t believe it either.. Something I used to struggle with and hate had transformed in to the most magical gift I could ever receive.

Now I dont know what I would do if I couldn’t read. Reading is a daily thing for me and still being a hardcore nerd its a bit haunting. I still misspell words and my grammar isn’t perfect which is a huge insecurity of mine. Not to mention majority of what I read are comics. Leaving me still somewhat of an outsider. 

Oddly enough since I am a female in the comic/gaming world I tend to hear a lot of sexist comments. Sometimes insinuating that the only reason I read or play videogames or DnD must be because I’m riding a trend.

I’m not denying others aren’t doing this (male and female) but come on, really? When do I get to just be myself without constantly having to prove my identity. I built my first PC when I was 13 and started playing counter strike, quake, halflife amongst so many other games. I would lug my giant tower and monitor to my friends house and we would have LAN parties and play all night long.

When I was old enough I worked at GameStop. I worked there for 7 YEARS! Meanwhile keeping up with all my favorite comics. I have hundreds - I used to have thousands 😱 but had to dial it down and sell or give a ton away. I am so much a regular at the local comic shop here that I am now friends with all the people who work there! And the amount of times I’ve cosplayed in my life for megacon or Comic-Con or any fucking con is insane. And not sexy cosplay, real deal Battlestar Galactica viper pilot - or Sander Cohen from Bioshock. Even Desmond from assassins creed!

I honestly dont know any other way to be... So if you read this blog know every post about every comic, videgame, table top game, or nerdy movie/show will be written with passion... Because this is the stuff I love and I can’t help but want to share it with whoever wants to know about it. 

Anyway I have gone on too long. Bye

Samiha Elvira

#karmencomic #comicbooks #comicnerd #gamergirl #artist #comicbooksarelife

[talesofstyles]

Good Morning Indeed

absolutely no plot whatsoever, just a bit of husband and dad harry in the midst of the family’s morning chaos 😂

Harry

“Go get the condom on.”

“I’ll pull out, I promise.”

“Your pull out game is weak.”

“Oi, them’s fightin’ words.”

“There’s a reason we’ve got six kids.” Says the missus with a roll of those pretty—but sometimes deadly (please don’t tell her I said this)—eyes. “‘Sides, I’ve just changed the sheets yesterday. You are not coming on the sodding sheets.”

“Fine,” I sigh and reach down to the bedside table. Why is the drawer filled with sodding Duplo and those tiny, pricey Sylvanian Family bunnies? I’m guessing kid number two, three and four have something to do with that. A few more seconds of rummaging before I finally found my treasure in the very back of the drawer. I lay on my back as I sheath myself up, and seeing as I’m already here… might as well, right? I smirk at her as I say, “hop on then.”

“Fat chance that,” she mutters. “Do I have to take off my top?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, it’s cold, and I’m a considerate husband. “A flash will do. Just give me a visual.”

She rolls up my shirt that she wears to sleep, a really old white rolling stones t-shirt that has two holes and a loose thread hanging on for dear life from the hem. She looks homeless. Gorgeous homeless though. 

“Nice,” I flash her a boyish grin, like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. “You’ve got great racks.”

“You’re just saying that…”

I know what she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror and I wish she could look at herself through my eyes. 

“Hey, don’t you dare. My babies grew in that body, that’s everything.”

Her tender smile hits me right in the gut. “I love you.”

“Love me enough to ride me?” I say with a playful flick to one nipple.

“Nice try.”

“I love you,” I mutter near her mouth and give her a searing kiss. I run my tongue over her bottom lip, then I kiss her down her neck, her cleavage and her breasts. I slowly circle one nipple, and she giggles, knowing it’s a well-rehearsed move that is guaranteed to do what’s needed. See, her tits are kind of like start buttons. No matter the situation, a little attention to those bad boys switches things around real quick. Her head slams back against the pillow. And she moans, holding my head in place.

We’ve got ignition lads. 

I nestle my body on top of hers, and there’s a bit of wayward angling and poking until I find my way inside of her. And then it’s on. Two bodies writhing on the bed. My hips rotate in long, slow circles.

“Bollocks!”

“What? The condom isn’t broken, is it?”

“No, it’s bin day. I forgot to take out the recycling bin.”

“S’fine, we’ve got time before the school run.”

The bin’s sorted, back to the shag…

I slide my hands under her, bringing us closer. Rocking us faster. My forehead hovers close to hers and I open my eyes so I can watch. What can I say? I’m greedy like that. I want to soak up every gasp, every flicker of pleasure across her face. Pleasure I’m giving her.

Her breathing changes. It turns panting and desperate, and I know she’s close. I move harder, grinding against her, inside her, with every forward push. Warms sparks tickle my spine and heat spreads down until every nerve in my body is shaking. I slam inside her, burying deep as her hips jerk upward. She spasms hard around me, gripping me tight. 

I rock back my hips and pull almost all the way out, but then I freeze. Because a dreaded sound echoes across the room, grabbing our full attention. It’s coming from the baby monitor. It’s a rustling, the sound of cotton rubbing cotton. Like snipers in the jungle, we don’t move a muscle. We don’t say a word. We wait, until the rustling stops. And all is quiet again. 

Too bad it’s not for long. Because two thrusts in, a light comes on in the landing. Followed by small footsteps heading down the stairs. Shit.

“Harry, just come already. They’ll all be up soon.”

“I’m close… don’t rush it, you’re scaring it away.” 

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper. 

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

The babies are starting to gather volume next door so I try to focus again. It only takes a few more thrusts before ecstasy wrecks my body, making me shudder. I press my lips against her neck as I come back down to earth. But I don’t move yet. I know we should get going because things are already chaotic outside our door, but I just don’t have the will yet. I’m considering going back to sleep for a minute or two. She won’t mind, will she? Well, I’m wrong. Because she proceeds to perform the move that seems to amuse every sodding woman on earth. And causes every man to squeal like a bloody pig. Without warning, she uses her powerful muscle to squeeze my extremely sensitive cock. 

Girls, grab a piece of paper and write this down. I’m speaking on behalf of every man to walk on earth here; we hate that. We don’t think it’s funny.

I jerk back, pull out, and roll off her. I try to look annoyed as she giggles, and obviously I fail, because that freshly fucked, flushed-face makes it impossible not to grin back.

“CAN I HAVE JAFFA CAKE?” That’s Victoria, child number three. She’s five, and she’s yelling as she thunders up the stairs. 

“JAFFA CAKE ISN’T BREAKFAST,” my wife shouts back as she sits up and hands me a nappy sack. “Harry…”

I wrap up the condom with it and toss it to the bin. “You’ve just taken me life force, woman, give me a moment.”

“CUSTARD CREAM?”

“NO.” We shout in unison. 

“HOBNOB THEN?”

“STAY AWAY FROM THE BISCUIT TIN!”

“You want to wrestle a biscuit-hunting kid out of a cupboard and 50/50 bread drama or fussy babies with full nappies?”

“Babies.” I hear a small child get whacked by a sibling downstairs and I feel like I may have got the better deal here.

Next door, the twins are not happy. They’re six months old now, and they’re both teething. Thing one glares at me as I walk into their nursery and thing two stares at me stroppily from the corner of her cot. Their cheeks are scarlet, and thing one proceeds to bark at me like a seal. I pick his warm, sleepy, cuddly body and cradle it close to mine as I lay him down on the changing table. I smell the dampness. It’s definitely wee. He’s soaked through, I think I didn’t tuck his willy in when I last changed him around three in the morning so it sprayed in some upward motion and drenched his clothes. See, this is why girls are better than boys. There’s no way they can pee upwards. 

After I put a fresh nappy and a change of clothes, I put him down on the rug so he can wiggle around while I grab his sister and sort her out. After six kids, I’m definitely a pro with baby duty and can practically change their clothes one-handed. The whole thing takes only a few minutes.

I cuddle the babies on each side as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. They immediately reach out to their mum who’s cracking some eggs as soon as they spot her, knowing she’s the only one who can cure their hunger this morning. 

“Uniforms!” She says to the big kids as she takes one baby into her arms. “We’ll do breakfast after. Please, please, please…”

Desperate pleas lead them to saunter out and up the stairs. I follow my wife into the living room and hand her the other baby as she plops down on the couch. She rolls up her shirt and the babies latch instantly. Tandem nursing is harder now that they’re a little older and aware of their surroundings. They’re trying to scratch each other’s faces as they nurse. “Oi, what’s this? You each get a tit, stop fighting.”

They seem to somehow listen to me and have stopped trying to poke each other’s eyeballs. We’ll see how long that lasts. “Finish the eggs?”

I nod. “I’m on it.”

I brew some coffee, finish the scrambled eggs, and pop the slices after slices of bread in the toaster. Breakfast is done just in time as my wife walks back into the kitchen with two full and happy babies. She puts them in their high chairs and I scoop a bit of eggs on each of their trays for them to nibble on.

George appears back in the kitchen clad in his uniform with his also dressed brother trailing behind. We always lay his clothes the night before on his bed and he gets dressed all by himself in the morning. And he’s getting better at it, seeing he only missed a button on his shirt.

“Hi mate,” I say as I fix his button and he flashes a toothy grin at me. I plop him down on the chair, he’s graduated from the high chair now but still uses a booster seat.

“No toast!”

“What do you want then?”

“Chee-yos?”

I nod before I grab a handful of cheerios and set them on his plate next to his eggs. Then I take a few steps back across the table. “Hey, James, set it up.”

He flashes me another toothy grin before he opens his mouth wide and keeps it open. I hold a single Cheerio between my fingers while I bend my knees and bounce my hand as if I were dribbling a basketball. “Three seconds left on the clock, down by one. Styles got the ball. He fakes left, he drives in, he shoots…”

I toss the Cheerios in a high arc. It lands right into his mouth.

“He scores! The crowd goes wild!”

James holds both hands over his head. “Core!”

“Viv stole the biscuit tin, you know? She ate three jammie dodgers upstairs.” Eleanor says as she walks in with book bags and school shoes. 

George, seeing his sister walks in, proceeds to open his mouth wide and flashes her the half-chewed eggs on his tongue. It’s his current thing and it annoys his sisters to death. The young’uns think differently though as they double over in laughter. 

“Eeewww!” She shrieks. “You’re so gross!”

“VICTORIA, PUT THAT BISCUIT TIN DOWN AND GET YOUR BUTT IN THE KITCHEN! AND GO GET THEM HAIR TIE THINGIES…” 

“I didn’t have any biscuits!” She yells and runs down the stairs.

This kid is the quintessential daddy’s girl. She climbs up onto my lap right away, handing me the brush and a hair tie. 

“See, poppet, I would’ve believed you if you didn’t leave evidence all over your face,” I arch one of my eyebrows as I sweep a speck of raspberry jam on the corner of her mouth. 

“You always do a ponytail,” she huffs.

“Either that or I give you a bowl cut with kitchen scissors. I reckon that fruit bowl will do. Your choice.”

“Can I have some more eggs?” George asks with his mouth full of his last bite.

“God, that’s like your third serving,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Nag.”

At that insult, Eleanor flings a piece of toast like a ninja. Before George can retaliate, my wife gives them both the look.

“Viv, will you at least have some eggs?”

“No.”

“Fine,” my wife sighs. “I’m gonna get changed then.”

I glance at the clock and, well, shit, I should get dressed too. “Can you lot watch the babies and try not to kill each other for the next five minutes?”

“Five quid each?” Eleanor tries to negotiate. “Babysitting isn’t supposed to be free, you know? That sounds like child labour to me.” 

Bollocks. 

“Two quid each,” I give her my dad look that says the offer is final and indisputable.

“Deal.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles #dad!harry #husband!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles one shot #the styles gang

[i-am-robie]

 Thanks to @coffeeshib​ for letting me steal the amnesia + wife prompt... I couldn’t help myself. This is not what I thought would come out (content warning for canon typical violence and injuries), mostly this is just Kara being a whole entire idiot and Alex facepalming and Lena just being glad Kara is there for her, as her fake wife while she recovers from another quarterly attempt on her life:

“Supergirl! You have to go!” Alex is yelling at her as they roll Lena into the emergency room at National City General, but Kara is rooted to the spot - she can’t look away. Lena is pale, too pale, and there’s blood all over her dress, cuts and scrapes and bruises already blooming on every piece of exposed skin. She isn’t moving, isn’t breathing on her own right now; the only air making its way into her body is through the ambu bag being operated by a nurse, as women and men in scrubs crowd around the moving gurney, shouting orders. And all of that is terrifying enough, but it isn’t the thing that’s paralyzing Kara.

The reason Kara can’t move, the reason that she is barely breathing, is that she can’t hear Lena’s heart.

“Kara.” Alex is closer now, she steps gently in front of her sister, dropping her voice so that no one else can hear her. “Kara, you have to go, they’re getting away.”

“Alex - “ Kara takes a step forward, as if to walk around her sister, to head towards the doors that Lena and the medical team are disappearing behind.

“I know, Kara, I know,” Alex says, gentle and quiet. The doors shut, and Kara’s eyes snap away from it to her sister's face. Alex looks as terrified as Kara feels; she’s wearing an expression Kara has only seen on her before when it’s Kara who’s hurt. “You can’t do anything for her right now. But you can get the guys who did this.” She reaches for Kara’s arm, squeezes - the pressure is grounding. “You need to go. You need to go right now.”

So Kara goes.

__________________

She returns seven hours later, after dropping the men who carried out the attack on Lena at the DEO and declining to help in the interrogation. She nearly killed them, doesn’t think she has the stomach to listen to them talk. She’d still been in the field when the hospital reached out to let her know that they’d been able to stabilize Lena, restarting her heart, but that she hasn’t woken up yet. Alex had relayed the message to her, but now Alex only shakes her head when Kara asks if there are any updates.

Her sister pulls her aside when Kara says that she’s going to hospital to talk to the doctors, telling Kara quietly that she needs to go home and clean off her suit. When Kara looks down, she sees that Alex is right. She’s covered in blood - some of Lena’s, some of it the men she’s apprehended, none of it hers. It makes her want to sob.

But when she gets out of the bathroom after showering, pulling on soft joggers and a hoodie, Kara finds that she can’t settle. Every time she closes her eyes, every time she blinks, she sees Lena’s lifeless body in the rubble that had been her office, can feel Lena in her arms the moment her heart stopped, and the fact that Lena is supposedly stable doesn’t help at all because she hasn’t woken up.

What if she never wakes up?

Suddenly, Kara can’t breathe. Her chest is tight, the walls of her apartment seeming to flex and close in on her. Her heart rate speeds up and she’s taking choked half-breaths, clenching her fists and blinking away tears.

She can’t lose Lena like this, not after she worked so hard to get her back. Kara looks at the clock. It’s just after midnight. This is definitely not visiting-hours at the hospital, and Lena’s not awake anyway - but Kara needs to see her. Needs to know she’s alive.

Needs to hear her heartbeat again.

It’s all of this - the panic, the desperation, the single-minded focus on getting to Lena - that Kara will blame later when she’s trying to explain what happens next in the weeks to come.

The hospital is deserted except for the staff when Kara walks in through the main entrance and goes up to the ICU where she knows Lena will be. She heads straight for the desk at the front of the unit when she arrives, and introduces herself to a nurse before asking if she can see Lena.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Danvers,” the nurse says, and she does sound sorry in the face of Kara’s distress, “visiting hours aren’t until ten a.m.”

A man in a basketball sweatshirt and jeans walks past them, he scans a small badge that says ‘VISITOR’ in capital letters on a machine at the end of the desk, and nods at the nurse before he disappears down the hallway.

“He’s visiting,’ Kara tries, her voice bordering on frantic, “he’s visiting and I need to see her, you don’t understand, I’m not going to be okay if I don’t see her. Please, just let me...”

“I’m so sorry, honey, it’s immediate family only after hours.”

“I’m her wife,” Kara blurts out. “Please. I’m her wife.”

“You’re her…that’s not in the notes…” The nurse trails off, looking down at the computer in front of her.

“I’m her emergency contact, I’m her wife, please.”

““Oh, yes,” the nurse starts nodding, “I do see that marked here, they called you when she came in. Hmmm...Someone clicked the wrong box under ‘relationship to patient.’” She moves her mouse and clicks on something, then looks back up at Kara. “I’ve fixed that for you, Mrs. Danvers. Let me print you out a visitor badge so you can just scan it in next time.

Kara can feel her panic recede a little. She’s going to see Lena. The nurse takes a blank badge and feeds it into an electronic printer. She hands the finished product to Kara, then gets up and gestures for Kara to follow.

“Now,” the nurse starts as she walks Kara down the dark hallway, the lights on half since it’s night, “she looks a little rough, but I assure you, she’s receiving the very best care there is. Normally you would have been called for consent before we initiated the hypothermia protocol, but since she had an advanced directive on file already, the team went ahead and started it.”

Kara’s barely listening to her, has started to strain her ears for the only sound she’s wanted to hear all day. She nearly collapses in relief when she finds it, below the beeping and the whirring and the buzzing of the machines, unlike any other beat in the building. Lena’s heart is steady, slower than usual, slower than Kara’s ever heard it, but it’s there, rhythmically thumping away.

The nurse brings her to a halt in front of a patient room, Lena’s name on the board outside with a bunch of notations that mean nothing to Kara. She’ll ask Alex to translate.

“She’ll be cold to your touch, that’s alright,” the nurse continues. “The key right now is to try to stop or slow any of the damage she’s suffered as a result of going into cardiac arrest. She lost a lot of blood, and her left femur is broken, along with her right ulna, but there are a lot of reasons to be hopeful. We’ll know more in the forty-eight to seventy-two hours once the protocol is complete.”

Kara refuses to think about most of this. Lena is alive. She’s alive and she’s right on the other side of this door. She clears her throat. “How long...how long can I stay?”

“As long as you like, dear. We’ll round on her in the morning and if you’re still here you can talk to the attending. Also, we’ll be in to check on her, but most of the monitoring is electronic since she’s in a medically induced coma for at least the next two days. There’s a chair that reclines by the bedside, I can grab you a blanket?”

“Please,” Kara says. She stops with her hand on the door, turns back to the nurse. “Thank you.” It comes out wobbly.

“Of course.” The nurse smiles at her. “Go on in, I’ll be right back.”

_____________________

Kara’s woken up by the medical team the next morning during rounds, just as the night shift nurse had promised. She blinks awake and rubs at her eyes, stretching and going to stand up when the team enters.

“Hi Mrs. Danvers, we saw you’d arrived,” a tall woman in a white lab coat says, walking over to Kara on the far side of the room and sticking out her hand to shake. “I’m Dr. Sheldon. We’ll do our best to bring you up to speed now, I’m so glad you were able to make it last night.” She gives Kara a warm smile. “Believe it or not, it really does make a difference when patients are supported, even when they aren’t aware of it.”

The team walks her through their care plan for Lena, how long she’ll have to remain like this before they start the re-warming process, what they’re concerned about and what they’ll be looking for. Her arm and femur have been set and immobilized, but it’s likely that the femur will need to be rebroken and repaired surgically if and when Lena does wake up. Given the invasiveness of the procedure, the delicacy of her present condition, and the unknowns about her cognition, that decision will keep.

When they leave, Kara texts Alex. If the doctors think that it will make a difference for Lena’s recovery to have her here, then she’s going to stay. She’s owed time off anyway. This is the best use of it she can think of.

Two hours later, the door opens, and Kara looks up from the bed, relieved to see Alex standing there, holding a backpack with the food and change of clothing Kara asked her to bring.

“Oh gosh, am I glad to see you,” she says, letting go of Lena’s hand and standing up. She walks around the bed to where Alex has stopped.

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex says, and she’s frowning at Kara. “You have some fucking explaining to do.”

“What?” Kara stops abruptly.

“What?” Alex parrots. She narrows her eyes. “Are you being serious…?” At Kara’s confused expression, Alex rolls her eyes and reaches behind her to shut the door. She walks over to Kara, pulling some take out from the bag and handing it to her, before pulling up one of the swivel chairs a doctor had been using.

Kara takes the food and goes back to her seat.

“So?” Alex prompts.

Kara looks up from the styrofoam container, already having broken apart her chopsticks. “So what?”

“What do you mean...Kara!” Kara freezes, chopsticks frozen in midair clutching a piece of kung pao chicken. There is real frustration and confusion in Alex’s voice. “Imagine my surprise when I sign in at the front desk and the nurse says that my sister-in-law is stable right now. Wanna tell me why the fuck you’re playing house to visit your best friend in the hospital?”

Kara sets the chicken down. “Alex…”

“Kara, you have ten seconds to explain why the entire staff thinks you and Lena are married and the answer had better not actually involve marriage or I swear to god I’ll…”

“They wouldn’t let me in to see her!” Kara bursts out. “I got here last night and I needed to see her, Alex, I needed to. And apparently it’s immediate family only and I panicked, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. “I know Lena is important to you, but Kara, you could have waited ten hours and seen her.”

“I couldn’t.” Kara looks down at her food, not hungry anymore. “Alex, I couldn’t. I almost had a panic attack after you sent me home last night. I couldn’t wait.”

“Oh kiddo.” Kara looks up at that, all the frustration is gone from Alex’s tone. Her sister lets out a sigh. “Lena’s going to get through this and she’s going to get better. And when she does, you have got to tell her how you feel.”

“She’s my best friend.” Kara’s mouth twists. This is not a new conversation, but the stakes seem higher with Lena in the bed beside her, unconscious and battered.

“She is,” Alex agrees. “But she could be more.”

And oh, Kara wants more with every fiber of her being. But more than that, she wants Lena in her life, wants the easy love and affection they’ve finally gotten back to. And she’s been worried about rocking the boat.

“And by the way,” Alex says, pulling her back to the present, “lying to medical professionals is not a good look.” Kara grimaces and ducks her head.

“I know,” she says, glancing at Lena, the ventilator moving her chest up and down slowly. “But they said it’s good for Lena to have someone here, talking to her, holding her hand, even if she doesn’t know. And you know Lillian isn’t going to do that. And Lex is the one who put her here...just let me do this, okay?”

Alex hums. “You’re so lucky I didn’t blow your secret.”

Kara looks over at her sister. “Thank you.”

“Some of us are actually good at lying under pressure. I’m surprised you didn’t tell them she was married to Supergirl.”

“Well I wasn’t dressed as Supergirl.”

“Thank god for small mercies.”

______________________

Lena doesn’t wake up for the next three days.

In the interim, all of their friends visit, but Alex has already warned them about Kara’s new relationship status and other than Nia’s constant giggles, no one comments. Kara doesn’t leave the hospital. She keeps vigil in the chair, occasionally leaving for short periods of time to go down to the cafeteria, or to stretch her legs.

On day four, Alex convinces her to at least go to the DEO to shower and check in with J’onn about  the duties he and M’gann are covering for her.

She’s just getting ready to head back to the hospital when her phone rings.

“Mrs. Danvers?”

“Yes?”

“This is Dr. Sheldon. Your wife has woken up and she’s being evaluated now by neuro, but we wanted you to know first thing.”

Kara has to sit down in the middle of the DEO, the concrete hard and probably cold underneath her, but it’s better than the alternative, which was just going to be letting her knees give out. She closes her eyes tightly. “I’ll be right there.”

She flies back to the hospital, landing in a nearby alley and running into the building with just a touch of superspeed. She makes it onto the unit just in time to see Lena’s care team leaving her room and turning down the hall to the next patient, and as much as Kara wants to get an update from them, the urge to see Lena herself is too much. She walks through the open door and nearly runs into a nurse, who’s moving some of the equipment out, now that Lena is conscious. It’s a nurse Kara is familiar with, her name is Bernadette, she’s been on shift the last two days. Her eyes light up when she sees Kara.

“Your wife is here,” Bernadette says, over her shoulder before Kara can stop her. She smiles warmly as she turns back to Kara. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She slips past Kara and into the hallway.

“My…” Lena’s eyes go wide as she sees Kara standing helpless in front of the now closed door.  Her voice is still scratchy from the extubation. Her hair is greasy and all over the pillow, her right arm and left leg are completely immobilized, there are wires running through the top of her hospital gown, her whole body a tapestry of garish purples and greens and stitches. But she’s awake. Kara has never felt more relieved in her entire life, but it turns to ice in her veins as Lena struggles to speak, clearly confused. “My - my - oh god.” Her eyes start to fill with tears and Kara panics.

“No, Lena, no, it’s not - “ she starts saying, taking quick steps towards the bed.

“Oh god, oh god, Kara,” Lena chokes out, twisting a little in bed and flinching, “they said I only lost a week, they said my memory seemed okay, that there’s no - ”

“We’re not married!” Kara yells out trying to stop the clear spiral Lena is on. Lena’s eyes go wide, but she does stop looking like she’s about to start sobbing. “We’re not married,” Kara repeats, in a normal voice this time.

“Then why…”

Kara winces. “I might have told the hospital staff that we are. Married, that is.”

Lena looks wary, small and weak and confused in the bed, and she’s frowning a little at Kara now. It doesn’t even matter, though, because the feeling of seeing Lena awake is returning with every word she speaks, and Kara feels something in her chest open up. She has to resist walking over and climbing into bed with her and holding her, knows she needs to explain first.

In every single way Kara played out this moment all week in her head, not once is this how it went - she wants Lena to be smiling, to be okay, or at least as okay as one can be after coming out of a medically induced coma, with a number of near catastrophic injuries still to be dealt with. She certainly didn’t imagine she’d be contributing to the disorientation and isolation Lena’s projecting right now.

Lena’s eyes dart around Kara’s face. Kara takes a deep breath.

“The first night you were here, I had to see you.” She starts twisting her hands together, takes another step towards the bed. “And it was late, and even though I’m your emergency contact, they said no after hours visitors except for family and I panicked.”

“You panicked.” Lena sounds like she’s unsure how panic would lead someone to pretend to be married, and honestly, now that Kara is having to explain the decision, she’s not really sure either. The only thing she knows is that she doesn’t regret it. Would do it again, in fact.

“I knew if they thought I was your wife, they’d let me in to see you. And Lena, I had to see you. I had to. You were - “ Kara cuts herself off, can feel the tightness in her chest, closing around her heart like a vice. “Your heart stopped before I could get you to the hospital. The last time I saw you, I didn’t know if - “ A small sob works it’s way up her throat, and Kara’s eyes are burning. She feels a tear break free from her lashes. “I needed to hear your heartbeat.”

An unreadable expression crosses Lena’s face as Kara takes the seat by her bed that she’s occupied for the last week. To Kara’s great relief, Lena reaches out her left hand, lays it on the edge of the bed, palm up. Kara grabs for it with both of her own.

And Rao, the feeling of Lena’s hand, still cold, but undeniably warmer, squeezing back when Kara grips tightly - she doesn’t know how to describe this feeling. It starts a fresh wave of sobs in her, of relief this time, rather than terror.

“Hey,” Lena says, punctuating it with another flex of her fingers around the back of Kara’s hand. “Hey, I’m okay. I’m here. You saved me. I’m okay, see?”

And really, that just makes Kara cry harder.

“I’m supposed to be comforting you,” she chokes out.

“You are,” Lena says, disengaging their hands and bringing her fingers up to Kara’s face, wiping at the tears. “You are, god, I was just thrown. I thought...I thought, it doesn't matter what I thought.” She tries to laugh and ends up flinching.

“Oh no, are you okay, should I call the doctor?” Kara immediately reaches forward, lays a hand on Lena’s hip above the sheets and wipes furiously at her face with the other.

“It’s the broken ribs,” Lena grits out, jaw flexing as she drops her hand away from Kara’s face and back onto the bed. “Fuck that hurts.”

“I’m just so glad you’re awake,” Kara says, leaning forward again and brushing some of the hair out of Lena’s face, trying to tuck it behind her ear.

That’s how Bernadette finds them when she returns, Kara gently touching Lena’s forehead, and rubbing her hip, the two of them so close that Kara might as well climb in next to her.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says, smiling at the two of them. “The attending would like to pop in with the head of ortho to talk about surgical options for your femur. Should I tell her to come back later?”

Kara moves to stand up, she doesn’t want to delay anything about Lena’s care, but Lena reaches for her hand again, and Kara’s powerless to do anything but lace their fingers together and sit back down.

Lena takes a shallow breath, “Can my wife stay?”

My wife. Hearing it come out of Lena’s mouth does something to Kara that feels a little dangerous, makes the room spin a bit. Her heart feels as if it’s expanding and being squeezed at the same time. My wife. My wife. My wife.

“Of course, she’s more than welcome to stay,” Bernadette says. “It’s probably a good idea, actually, now that there are care decisions to make.”

_____________________

“Let me get this straight,” Alex says, her head in her hands. Kelly reaches out to rub her back. “You’re still pretending to be married, and Lena is playing along with it?”

Kara nods. They’re sitting down in the cafeteria while Lena gets a sponge bath, something that Kara is trying very hard not to think about. It’s been nearly three weeks, one major operation, and thankfully no more complications.

And Kara has been here through it all. She’s started leaving for blocks of time during the day (it turns out she didn’t have a month worth of vacation saved up and Alex had nearly had an aneurysm when Kara asked if she was allowed to use family medical leave act time), but she’s spent nearly every night in the hospital with Lena since. The medical team loves them, has started talking to them about how devoted Kara is. Maybe Kara’s playing into it a little, bringing flowers, and Lena’s favorite foods, and always, always touching her in some way when she’s in the room.

“You know they’re going to build her discharge plan around you, right?” Alex squints at her. “Have you considered that?”

Kara flushes. “Actually,” she brings a hand up to rub at the back of her neck, adjusts her glasses for good measure, “we’ve agreed that I’ll just move in with Lena for a little while. She can hire someone during the day, but I’ll be around at night and I can help with the rehab. So, um, it’s fine.”

“You’re both fucking idiots.”

_________________

“I’ve been home for an hour and I’m already regretting every choice in my life that’s lead to this point. This is humiliating.”

“Oh my gosh,” Kara laughs, “no it isn’t.”

“Kara, you’re washing my hair in the kitchen sink because I can’t even wash myself right now with this fucking cast and brace on.”

Kara grins, squirting shampoo onto her hand and setting the bottle down on the marble countertop. Lena is sitting in the wheelchair, left leg propped up on the supports. She’s leaning back with her head over the edge of the sink, rolled up towels supporting her neck and her eyes are closed. She’s frowning, but it’s the frown she wears when she’s trying too hard not to smile. It makes Kara want to kiss it right off her face. She takes a deep breath, instead.

Kara is just so grateful that she gets to see Lena like this, hair stringy from the hospital, oversize sweatshirt with one sleeve bunched up over the top of the lime green cast on her right arm. The post-surgical femoral fracture brace looks uncomfortable, but Lena hasn’t complained about it at all. So, fine, maybe this nearly debilitating urge to kiss her best friend, to ask her if the last few weeks could be real, instead of fake (not the marriage part, not now, anyway, but the relationship part sure), is getting more and more intrusive. That doesn’t mean Kara can’t continue to ignore it until Lena’s better.

She finishes washing Lena’s hair and if she takes extra time massaging in the conditioner and making sure the water temperature is absolutely perfect, well, that’s just being a good caretaker. She sets Lena up in her bedroom, then goes back to the kitchen to clean up 

“Ok, Lena,” Kara says, walking back into the bedroom. “You officially have zero edible things in your apartment. I’m going to make a list and head to the grocery store for supplies, ok? Your next meds can’t be taken on an empty stomach.”

“You’re underestimating my iron constitution.” Lena frowns unhappily in bed. “We can just order some, you don’t have to go.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy, okay?” Kara smiles at Lena.

Sure, they could order groceries, but she wants to go get them, to pick them out herself, and bring them back. It makes her feel so good to be able to do things like this: wash her hair, go get groceries, make her something to eat. The best part of this whole terrible ordeal is that she’s gotten to take care of Lena, to show her, not just tell her, how important she is to Kara. It warms her up from the inside out.

“You sure I’m allowed to be by myself?” Lena teases, breaking Kara out of her thoughts. “I haven’t been left to my own devices in weeks now. Just imagine all the trouble I could get into.” She raises an eyebrow.

Kara laughs and shakes her head, drawn closer to Lena like a magnet. Lena’s tucked into bed, leg propped up on pillows to keep the brace comfortable, two books on the nightstand beside her, a glass of water within easy reach, and the next round of medications in a small porcelain bowl that Kara repurposed from the kitchen. Her hair is still wet from being washed, and although there are dark circles around her eyes, and her cheekbones are too sharp from the weight she lost in the hospital, Kara doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything more beautiful than Lena right at this exact moment.

She walks over to the bed and sits down next to Lena, reaching over to move the glass of water back from the edge of the nightstand and onto a coaster. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll bet you a whole order of potstickers that you’re asleep when I get back.” She reaches across Lena, adjusts the towel covering up her pillow to keep it from getting wet.

When she pulls back slightly, she’s startled by how close Lena’s face is to hers. Lena is looking at her with such unadulterated fondness, that Kara can’t help reaching up and tucking a wet tendril of hair back behind Lena’s ear. “I’ll be back so soon you won’t even know I was gone.”

“I always know when you’re gone,” Lena says, the corners of her mouth lifting up, her eyes crinkling lightly. Kara’s hand has drifted from Lena’s ear to the back of her head, her thumb brushing gently at the soft skin just below Lena’s jaw.

When she retells the story of what happens next later, Alex will roll her eyes and mutter under hear breath, but Kara will swear this is the truth: without even thinking about it, she leans forward and kisses Lena on the lips, quick and soft, then stands and turns to go, pulling her phone out of her pocket so she can start making a grocery list.

“You can drop the act now,” Lena says, a little stiffly.

“Huh?” Kara whips around, more at Lena���s tone than at her words, and looks at her in confusion. Lena’s face is bright red.

“Kara, we’re - I’m home, there’s no hospital staff to convince anymore.” She sounds a little upset and Kara, feels her forehead crinkle as she replays the last several seconds in her head: she moved Lena’s water, adjusted the towel behind her head, smoothed Lena’s hair, and…

“Oh Rao, oh gosh.” She takes a step forward, then back abruptly, as she realizes that she’s just kissed Lena on the mouth. She puts one hand on her forehead and the other on her hip, spins in a small circle. “Lena, I’m so sorry. I didn’t - ”

“It’s fine,” Lena says, her voice sounding calm and even now that Kara is having a meltdown, but her heart is doing some sort of high speed gallop in her chest and it’s giving Kara the impression that this is not actually fine.

Oh no, oh gosh… “Lena, I’m sorry, - ”

“I get it.” Lena cuts her off, holding up a hand to stop her. “The whole act, it’s a hard habit to break.” She drops her hand to the bed and laughs lightly, picking at the blanket. “Honestly I’m surprised we made it this long without accidentally doing that.”

“Accidently. Yes.” Kara’s nodding so hard, she feels like her head might come off. “It was an accident.” That might be a convenient way of putting it, but it doesn’t change the fact that Kara’s been wanting to kiss Lena, wants it to be as un-accidental as possible. And aren’t accidents things like tripping on the carpet, or spilling a drink at dinner? She may not have been thinking when she did it, but Kara knows there’s nothing accidental about that kiss.

But Lena’s giving her an out, and Kara can’t bring herself not to take it.

“I’m just going to - ” Kara gestures over her shoulder and then she flees.

“Alex, I kissed her.” Kara’s made it outside the apartment, but her heart hasn’t slowed down. She didn’t even bother making a list after walking out of Lena’s bedroom, just went straight to the elevator, dialing Alex before she’d even hit the lobby. Her stomach is squirmy, she feels like she might throw up.

“Finally,” Alex says, letting out what might be a relieved sigh.

“What do you mean finally?” Kara feels hysterical.

“I mean finally, idiot. Watching the two of you for the past three weeks has been the most painful experience of my life, I’m glad you finally did it.”

“She thinks it was because of the act!” Kara nearly yells. A man walking by looks at her, narrowing his eyes and giving her a wide berth. “She thinks it’s because of the act, Alex!”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment.

“Kara Danvers, are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No,” Kara wails. “I didn’t even mean to do it! Or, well. I meant to do it, but I didn’t know I was doing it. I was making sure she had everything she needed and then I was leaving to go to the grocery story and somewhere in the middle I kissed her! And she got kinda upset even though she said she wasn’t and she says it’s fine because it was an accident. And it was an accident, at least in the sense that I wasn’t thinking when I did it and god I didn’t even ask if she wanted to kiss me, but I meant it, Alex, I meant it.”

Kara can picture Alex right now: that tight, unhappy expression on her face, fingers pinching her nose between her eyes.

“Okay, I swore to Kelly I wasn’t going to do this, but that was before you lost your damn mind and kissed her.” Kara can hear Alex take a deep breath. “You need to go back upstairs right now and confess, Kara.”

“What?” Kara practically screeches. She spins in a circle. “No, this isn’t the right time. I’m supposed to be helping her, I’m supposed to be taking care of her, I can’t put this on her right now. What if she doesn’t feel the same, what if this ruins everything, what if - “

Thankfully Alex cuts her off. “That argument worked before you kissed her and decided to let her believe you didn’t mean to do it. And before you argue with me, you might not have known you were doing it, but you absolutely meant to do it, Kara.”

Kara is now facing Lena’s apartment and gently knocking her forehead against it.

“Kara, I heard that crack, stop headbutting the building.” Kara stops, keeps her forehead pressed to the cool limestone. Alex pauses, and her voice is gentle when she continues. “You gotta tell her, kiddo. You’ve been down the whole lying path with her before and while I don’t think this is the kind of lie that would cause her to try removing our free-will again, I do think that you guys decided on honesty as your way forward. You either own that, or you don’t.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” Kara squeezes her eyes shut. “If we can get through that, we can get through this.”

“That’s the spirit. And hey, if for some reason things don’t go well and you feel like you can’t stay with her? Kelly or I would be happy to swap out for you tonight. Just in case you need some space.”

“Thanks, Alex.”

“But Kara, I think you’re gonna be just fine.”

Kara doesn’t feel much better when she hangs up with Alex, but she knows her sister is right. She’s got to tell Lena.

And to be honest, Kara can’t imagine a world in which Lena would be upset with her for having feelings, regardless of whether they’re reciprocated. They’ll be able to work through this, even if it hurts for a while. She’s had friends fall in love with her before, and she’s always been able to keep them as friends afterwards. God, maybe Winn has some advice for me, she thinks.

So Kara takes a deep breath and goes back inside. Groceries can wait.

She’s trembling when she lets herself back into Lena’s apartment. It’s nerves, anticipation more than anything. She’s about to confess something that she can’t, won’t take back and it will change things between them, even if only for a while.

Lena looks up from her book when Kara makes her way back into the bedroom. She sets it down beside her hip on the bed and cocks her head.

“Well that was fast. Did Supergirl get my groceries?” She gives Kara a smile.

“I’m in love with you.” Well that’s one way to start this conversation. “And I didn’t kiss you accidentally.”

Lena’s smile drops, her eyes widening in surprise. Everything about her seems to freeze.

“Before you say anything, I need to get this out. I’m not telling you because I’m expecting anything. I don’t want anything to change, I mean, I do, clearly, but I don’t if that’s not what you want.” Kara squeezes her eyes shut and looks at the ceiling. She really should have thought this through. “I’ve known for a while, actually, I was just worried about what it might mean, if you didn’t feel the same way.” She drops her gaze back to Lena. “But then you almost died. And I pretended to be your wife. And I was planning on telling you once you’re totally recovered. Except then I kissed you without even thinking about it and I can’t lie about this, Lena. It isn’t good for either of us. So. Yeah. Just. Tell me what you need.”

Lena’s looking at her with an expression Kara can’t read, but she doesn’t look unhappy, or afraid, or upset...

“Kara, do you remember when that nurse told me my wife had shown up?”

“Yes,” Kara says, frowning, because she doesn't understand where Lena is going with this. “Of course I do, you were panicked that you’d experienced severe brain damage.”

Lena shakes her head, pats the space on the bed next to her.

Kara feels a weight lift from her shoulders: no matter how this goes, if Lena is asking her to come closer, then they’re going to be okay. She walks across the carpet.

“You’re right,” Lena says as Kara comes closer, “I was worried, but that wasn’t the only thing that made me panic.”

“What else was it?” Kara sits down and looks at her lap, bringing her hands together to fidget. She can feel Lena’s body heat next to her, but she doesn’t want to reach out unless Lena does it first. “Was it the idea of being married to me?” She laughs. She can laugh about this.

“No, darling,” Lena says. She reaches for Kara’s hands, smoothing her fingers across them to still them. Darling, that’s a good sign, right? “Kara, as terrified as I was that there was more damage, my first thought was that somehow I’d lost memories of us: of you falling in love with me, of dating and first kisses and someone proposing and a wedding.” Lena pauses and Kara stares at their joined hands. She hears more than sees Lena take a deep breath and let it out. “I’ve been in love with you for so long it broke my heart to think that those things had happened and I couldn’t remember them.”

Kara whips her head around to look at Lena. Her best friend is smiling, and her eyes are a little wet like maybe she’s overwhelmed and might cry and oh gosh, does Kara understand that feeling right now.

“You love me,” she says, feeling her own eyes start to fill with tears.

Lena nods.

“You’re in love with me,” Kara can’t help clarifying. This is something out of a dream.

Lena nods again.

“Can I…” Kara reaches for Lena’s face, trails her knuckles down Lena’s cheek and watches in awe as Lena leans into the touch.  “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes,” Lena breaths out, smiling, and it’s blinding. “But only if it’s not an accident.”

#this is not what I meant to be writing at all today and also it is much less funny than the tag ficlet but what're you gonna do? #robie writes #supercorp #WHAT'S PROOF READING I'VE NEVER HEARD OF IT DON'T @ME #tw canon typical violence

[collecting-stories]

Saving Grace - JJ Maybank

A/N: A You Are Ok drabble set ten years in the future 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The Maybank house had sat empty on the cut for almost five years until JJ’s dad was released from prison. You and JJ had been down in Florida at the time, moved out of his cousin’s trailer and living in an apartment in the everglades. Talking about going home but unsure what the OBX had to offer at that point. It was barely two weeks after that when you both flew home, Luke Maybank had overdosed and the house was empty once again.  

It stayed empty while the two of you gutted the entire place and refurbished it. While JJ and you stayed at the Chateau or Kiara’s place, while you found a job and found out you were pregnant, while JJ got a job for himself in the area and went back down to the everglades to empty out the apartment.  

JJ laid the tile in the bathroom himself and fixed the plumbing. You painted the inside and outside of the house, planted a garden, bought a chicken coop. You and JJ moved in to the house and just like that you were back in the OBX.  

-

You sat outside on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee despite the hour nearing eight o’clock at night. The baby monitor was sitting beside you, a soft gurgling coming from the receiver. You were waiting for the familiar sight of JJ’s truck pulling down the long driveway in the dusk. The headlights were already on, flashing on you for a moment as he parked and then cut off, the engine dying.  

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” He asked, climbing out of the front seat of the car and bringing a bag of chinese food with him.  

“Waiting for you to bring me egg rolls?” You joke, before turning serious, “I saw my dad this morning, at the grocery store.”

“Did he see you?”  

“Yeah...it was, really weird?” You suggested, reaching for the bag. JJ shook his head and held the bag away from you, a silent ‘I’ve got it’ as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. You wrinkled your nose at the familiar smell of fish as you pulled away, “how was work?”

“Alright...” he shrugged, “what did your dad say?”  

“That he wants me to come to church on Sunday.” You replied, following him inside.  

“You wanna go?” It was a question but the way he asked you knew that he already knew the answer.

“I mean...I’m not gonna like, start going to church with them every week and ya know, go back to how I was but...it might be nice. I do miss my family and, I want to have boundaries but maybe they don’t have to be like, huge ten-year silence boundaries where we never speak. I do want Willow to know her cousins; I think. What do you wanna do?” You asked, passing plates across the counter to him.  

A tinny half cry sounded from the monitor on the table and you both turned to look over at it, waiting for a crescendo of cries that you’d grown used to in the last four months. When silence settled back in, you both seemed to exhale in relief. You wanted to eat and finish this conversation before JJ ultimately showered and fell asleep until Willow’s usual one a.m. wake up.  

“Whatever you want.” He replied, never submitting to making the decision for you when you wanted him to. “Not exactly like your family’s a big of me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you bumped his hip with your own, kissing his cheek. “Not like you totally corrupted their youngest daughter or anything.”

“Oh no, do not blame that on me.”

“I didn’t run away to marry myself.”

“If you go...” JJ posed, turning to follow you to the table, “do you want to go alone?”

-

You stood frozen in place, holding a box of cereal in your hand as you stared across the small expanse of Heyward’s shop, your dad there by the fresh produce, comparing two different apples with each other. The Outer Banks was a small island but you ran in very different circles and, in the three years that you’d been home, had avoided seeing your parents. Or anyone in your family.  

You’d driven passed the baptist church, a sign boasting a new assistant pastor, one of your brothers, when you’d first moved back but hadn’t actually seen anyone. The possibility of seeing them again had been a long debate between you and JJ when you’d finally decided to leave Florida for North Carolina. It had been hard in the very beginning, missing birthdays and anniversaries and new babies, but over time the ache had dulled and you had shifted your attention away from what you were missing and focused on working through the things you could heal in yourself.  

Now you were frozen. If you left your basket of groceries now you could make a beeline for the door and be out before he saw you. But then the bell above the door rattled as a customer came in and the baby swaddled against your chest started to fuss. Before you could attempt to placate her, your dad was looking over. For a moment you were certain he didn’t recognize you. Ten years was a long time. But then his mouth quirked into a frown and he set down the apples he was holding.  

“Ace?” He questioned, the old nickname feeling foreign to you. It’d probably been ten years since anyone called you that.  

“Hey, dad.” You nodded your head at him across the small store. You felt like tacking on a ‘surprise’ for good measure. ‘Surprise, I’m in the OBX, surprise, I got a kid...’

“When did you uh, when did you come home?” He moved across the store to be near you though he refrained from reaching out for a hug. You wondered if a decade had been just as hard on him as it had on you. Cathartic and healthy and freeing but hard. He seemed more mellow, you thought that before he might’ve pulled out a bible and started admonishing you.  

“JJ and I moved back three years ago,” you admitted, slipping his name into the conversation as if to prove a point. “He got a job on a fishing rig.”  

“Will you...would you come to church? We could have lunch afterward. Or you could just be there?” He offered. Ten years hadn’t changed his beliefs at all but it had made him miss you. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing felt like an ache in his chest that never went away. The anger had subsided to sadness and guilt.  

-

Seeing your dad had been startling enough and you had almost wished, while you were standing there in Heyward’s, that JJ could’ve been with you. Though, you weren’t entirely sure that would’ve helped anything in the long run.

“I think my mom would probably be nicer to me if I brought Wills but maybe, I mean, my dad already saw her. He didn’t ask about her but maybe...” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Why didn’t we stay in Florida?”

“Cause we both spent seven years talking about how much we wanted to come back to the OBX...and my dad-”

“Jay.”

“Look. My dad was an asshole okay, he was a fucking nightmare but you know better than anyone that not getting to see him at the end...that was the worst call I’ve ever gotten in my life. Knowing Ricky was the only one up here and that he was alone. You should do whatever you want to do and I’ll be there, right next to you, just like I’ve been for ten years, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.” JJ replied, honestly.  

You nodded, looking down at the plate of food and pushing your fried rice around. You knew that JJ was still hurting, that gutting a house didn’t take away all the memories that were trapped inside. “God I hate when you’re right.” You sighed.  

“Don’t let your dad hear you talk like that.” He teased just as the monitor went off again, this time for real. You leaned against the back of the chair and groaned as JJ stood up. “I got it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.” You stood too. “You need a shower, and sleep.”  

“I haven’t seen her all day,” JJ pointed out, following you down the short hallway to the bedroom that used to be his. It was painted in yellows and oranges now, with a crib and a rocking chair and baby books. A sunset mural painted on the wall from Kiara’s girlfriend and a chandelier of stars from Sarah.  

“What are you gonna do, take her in the shower with you?” You joked, lifting the fussing baby up out of her crib, “hey bubba, what’s the matter?”

“You have to feed her right? So feed her in the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, Jay, that’s super comfortable for me. I would love to feed her while I sit on the toilet.” You grumbled, already knowing that you would probably, definitely end up caving to him and doing exactly that.  

“I’ll put dinner away and do the dishes.” He promised, “and I’ll punch you’ll dad if he says anything to piss you off.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #collecting stories imagine #you are ok series

[jiminrings]

yoongi grills stem koo’s ass <3

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo wants to explain himself and yoongi may not want to listen

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

“the one that’s all knuckle?”

oh my god

IS THIS A RIDDLE????

yoongi tilts his head in amusement when this pathetic excuse for your past crush is calculating what he just said in his mind

what is a sandwich that’s all knuckle?? but it doesn’t even rhyme!!

aren’t riddles sUPPOSED to rhyme????

jungkook’s more than well-versed in stem-related problems that are just rephrased 237 times over and over so that it wouldn’t be as easy to solve

he can solve that!!!

but this!!! :O his mind is short-circuiting pls do not approach him

“hm?” yoongi’s smile patronizes him further and puts him on the spot, straightening his figure and jungkook’s quick to stop him from coming back inside your dorm

“i want to-“

“i asked you — have you ever had a knuckle sandwich?”

yoongi enunciates with so much clarity that kook finds his mind blanking, tripping over his words he hasn’t even formed yet

“i-is it-...” he stalls, trying to rack his mind for the bread he’s not sure he’s ever even heard of in his life, “i-is it like, a pork thing? uhm, t-the pig’s knuckle? and then you put it between, uhm, bread?”

,,,, laughable

jungkook’s supposed to be smart, isn’t he? or atleast that’s what yoongi thinks he’s supposed to be

lmao he would’ve laughed at the boy’s poor attempts if only he wasn’t furious at him

he’s dumb but not the endearing kind ://

“no,” yoongi drawls out, pretending to fish something out from his pocket

jungkook watches in intrigue, thinking that yoongi’s reaching for his phone to show him a picture of what it looks like

the hypothetical situation in jungkook’s mind is clearly not the one that happens

jungkook SHRIEKS as he stumbles on his heels backward — crystal clear to him that yoongi was not looking for his phone, but instead balling his fist and him being the receiving end

almost the receiving end

yoongi almost sucker-punches jungkook in a blink, fist literally a millimeter away from his nose and the only thing he could see at the moment is red

... red and jungkook’s wide eyes that have never carried this much fear up until now

“that’s a knuckle sandwich, kid. would’ve fed it to you if only y/n isn’t in the room right behind me.”

holy fuck

his heart is beating right against his ribcage and that shouldn’t be possible, fists closing upon themselves nervously as he tries to soothe his thumb so his mind relaxes

spoiler alert: it doesn’t work

jungkook’s mind is all over the place, even more rattled than it was when he takes a text without studying (he was so low he got a 98), but the only thing that’s clear is that you’re behind this door

“yoongi — mister yoongi, please. i-i need to explain myself, and if only you let me try, i can!! i swear. i’m not forcing you but-...”

there he is again

jungkook’s only been in his sight for like two minutes but his eyes are already sore

“why are you even here?” he scowls and even if the younger boy’s taller than him, every bit of his posture and demeanor at the bite of his words scream small, “why go all this length for someone you stomped on today, then have the gall to be a crybaby about it?”

he's speechless and it only serves him right, looking at his mudded-up converse and trying to focus on anything besides the guilt within

"m-my explanation," jungkook mutters, hands behind his back as if he's being scolded, “will you tell y/n?”

yoongi releases an agitated breath at him muttering your name

he dOESN'T get to say your name!! no!!! not after what he did to you

“i’m not concerned about you. what i decide to do or not, has nothing to do with whatever you say right now.”

kook solemnly nods, and even if yoongi's much harsher in your words compared to yours, the gravity of yours with him not being related to you cuts deeper

there's nothing else he could care about, actually

jungkook follows campus curfews to a T and would come home two hours earlier in the rare event that he goes somewhere

but now, he couldn't care less when the dorm master could just be there any second and he'd pass a hall monitor like usual

for the whole day, you were the only one that occupied his mind

"i know hyeji isn’t the one."

god, it was clear as day

he'll be the first one to admit that he can't read people very well, but he knew from the start that it's probably not hyeji who's been packing his lunchboxes

jungkook sometimes takes attendance in behalf of the professor because as much as he's shy, he's also a teacher's pet

the classes she shared with hyeji? she wasn't present everyday for the whole duration of two weeks, and how could it be that she still managed to make him a lunchbox if she wasn't present in the campus at all?

there was a probability that it could've been her, but it was so low that it sat right next to improbable

"i-i entertained the possibility briefly that she was, but then nothing was making sense the more i thought about it."

jungkook sometimes also checks papers because his professors trust him enough and he has perfect scores anyway, so he uses his own as his answer key

"i needed to interview y/n for an assignment, a-and a signature above a name was needed and it was just so familiar."

the moment he racks his head for hyeji's writing, it seemed fAR from the writing on the sticky notes on the lunchboxes

"then she seemed mad at me, but when i went to her on the field to try and confront her-" jungkook pauses and almost whispers the next part, the shame on his skin starting to seep into his bones, "she told me that we weren't related for me to feel hurt about it."

yoongi clenches his jaw, a pressure forming on the center of his eyebrows because he knows where this is leading

"a-and i thought it was hyeji again."

jungkook can't bring himself to be elated that it's been you the whole time because he might be a little too late; a little too late when he's already subjected you to the heartbreak you didn't deserve

"i-i didn’t know what clicked in my mind but i was just so hurt that-"

that's the fiNAL straw for yoongi

this has been him trying to keep his anger at bay the whole time, but this one!! this one he can't just accept

"you are a fucking asshole. honestly."

jungkook slightly winces with the sudden cussing, but it barely scratches the surface

"you think you’re the only one hurt? tell that to me who’s never seen y/n cry so hard before — or even cry at all."

his explanation wasn't an excuse and he knows it, but nonetheless, it tears him apart

"i’m sorry."

his lips quiver and he's trying sO hard not to cry in front of his senior, but yoongi doesn't feel even the slightest remorse for the kid

"i don’t care. you don’t apologize to me; you apologize to y/n. whether she forgives you or not, which for the record i don’t think she should, you cannot take back what you said."

if what jungkook said was eVER said to yoongi, given that he had the same circumstances as you did, he wouldn't know how to bounce back at all

it's a pain he doesn't wish to feel and he could only helplessly look at you who's trying to navigate it

perhaps you don't even plan to navigate it — knowing you, you're just gonna sail through it all to the point you're not giving yourself enough time to even realize that you already are

it was the same cycle of trying to move on without grieving through it properly that it hurts yoongi and seokjin and the tiny amount of people around you

"grovel at her feet. cry her an ocean. commit penitence. whatever you wanna come up with, no matter what, you do not make my y/n feel like she isn’t deserving of love."

you're family and yoongi goes above and beyond for family.

"i don’t care if you make up. i don’t care if you don’t. all i know is that in any other place besides outside the room she sleeps in, i’d hurt you like you hurt her."

jungkook almost wishes that yoongi punches him now and he won't even try to dodge it

"i deserve it."

"you do."

they whole-heartedly agree and it's the only time that yoongi can get behind jungkook's words

"i’m always gonna be on y/n’s side, kid."

there's no other way around it and as much as you know it or not, you've cemented your position in yoongi's heart unknowingly

"the only way that i’m gonna be on yours is when you’ve earned my utmost respect," he can't even see when that happens, crossing his arms across his chest, "and you don’t."

jungkook's tears are falling to the floor but they don't get on his cheeks, the sudden set of footsteps coming from his side making his head straighten and wipe his eyes immediately

he's the only one alarmed and he spares yoongi a glance, then to said person

yeah right that couldn't have been you :((

the guy who's approaching doesn't stop walking and he looks like.... he's uh,,, coming to where he's exactly standing????

he seems oddly familiar though

“oh, taehyung!"

where did he hear that name before??

taehyung stands at the same height as jungkook, maybe a centimeter or two taller, but he just couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of his eyes

yoongi's oblivious to jungkook's ongoing deduction, immediately engulfing taehyung in conversation

"y/n’s already asleep. i could do her part of the project-“

he offers because he recalls that right, you told him that taehyung's coming over to finish your shared project of a business plan late tonight

uhhhhh you're kinda zooted and going through it rOUGH so yoongi doesn't mind doing your contribution for you

“yoongi!! oh no man, it’s not what i came here for," he leans for a side hug, eyes landing on jungkook to drop a polite smile to acknowledge him

jungkook only slightly bows, confused but even more intrigued because he heard your name in the conversation

"i just uh, i just saw y/n crying while i was on my way home awhile ago, and i didn’t get to ask why, but i felt bad, so i came by to drop some cookies.”

oh

taehyung continues talking and it leaves yoongi and jungkook stunned, but he only focuses his attention on the former

“you looked like a hazelnut cookie kind of guy, so i baked some too!! is y/n allergic to peanuts? i put some too in a separate container in case she is.”

yoongi laughs and they go from there

IT'S LIKE JUNGKOOK ISN'T EVEN HERE!!!!

baby he's here he's nOT a hallucination!!!!

despite the fact that he's sticking out like and (unacknowledged) sore thumb, no one makes a move to take the conversation elsewhere

“thanks, tae. damn, you did all this yourself?”

yoongi whistles when he takes the tupperware opening it and almost watering at the sight

he doesn't mind baking cookies for you in case you wake up hungry, but taehyung really just did himself a nice favor without knowing it

he smiles softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue now that he realizes

"taehyung. no offense, but you’ve only interacted with y/n like once and it’s only for a project. why would you bake her uhhh 28 cookies?”

hehe

“35, actually :D”

tae interjects, waving him off when yoongi's jaw drops even further

“yeah, i know. i just felt so sorry for her — i’m not related to y/n but i just felt like i wanted to make her feel better.”

jungkook's jaw locks at this, his breathing becoming shaky all over again, fists balled this time

“it’s like,, economics!! i don’t actually know, maybe??? i’m in visual arts. y/n took over my part for me when i was sick-“

".... so you made her 30 cookies."

taehyung's the personification of a golden retriever and now that he thinks about it, jungkook reckons seeing him more than a handful of times

he laughs deeply at yoongi's rebutt and it may be in unfortunate timing that jungkook realizes he kNOWS him

he's in the same year!! he's the one that takes the portraits for the school paper and it's always his name in the credits

"good night, yoongs. hug y/n for me. tell her i'll take over her part, no questions asked."

taehyung walks away and he's perfectly content even if he didn't get to give you the cookies like jungkook thought he would

"night, taehyung."

yoongi looks at the retreating figure briefly, then looks at jungkook pointedly

he doesn't realize that he's still budging and listened on an entire conversation, dropping his head when yoongi points to the elevator

"bye, jungkook."

"good night, yoongi."

he feels hesitant to leave but it's probably for the better, putting his hands in his pockets still not enough to make his hands stop trembling

kook stops at the middle of his walking, turning his head to look back at yoongi whose mouth already has crumbs

"c-can i see y/n tomorrow?"

"i'm not her dad."

jungkook nods somberly, leaving it at that while his bulk of emotions consume him

he thinks all about the ways he could attempt to make it up to you, a million ideas in his head but his head doesn't hurt

his nose twitches at the lingering scent the cookies left, annoyed at the persistent smell and perhaps the boy that brought them

jungkook's never really liked cookies.

#WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT :O PLACE UR BETS BESTIES #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook scenario

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

#john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #john shelby fluff #john shelby series #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinder fanfic #john shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader