#in person school next week um ill run the other way hes very sweet and funny but also he knows 2 much abt my emotions 🚶🏻‍♀️ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidsnose · 3 years

Text

love letters

overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom

genre: fluff fluff fluff

a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)

masterlist

the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.

it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.

"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.

you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.

"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.

"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.

"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.

"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.

before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.

and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.

you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.

of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.

you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.

spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.

and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.

he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.

"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.

he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.

"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.

"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.

you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.

"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.

he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.

a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.

he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.

unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.

he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.

you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.

"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.

"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.

"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.

you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!

"ill help you look" you decided.

"please do," he chuckled.

"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.

"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"

his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.

you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.

you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.

is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.

you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"

with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.

dear y/n,

today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that

dear y/n,

im in love with you. too forward

dear y/n,

you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep

you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.

"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.

"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.

"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"

"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."

"youre not mad?"

"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"

"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.

he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."

you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru @sydneekomspacekru

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emsemotional · 3 years

Text

out of line

Okay so this is a little baby one shot based on my mental health advocate!mickey headcanon that I posted a little while back. I used to write a lot for various fandoms back in high school, but it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve shared anything I’ve written with anyone other than @lewslew, so please be nice- I definitely have some room to grow with characterization and timing.

This is taking place post-finale, so I’ve taken some liberties regarding what everyone ends up doing after the series. In my mind, Mickey and Ian buy the Gallagher house themselves, because they’re Southside boys at heart and they need a backyard for their dog (duh). But they’re waiting on their Westside lease to end, so Lip, Tami and Liam are staying in the house while Lip and Debbie fix it up and renovate a little (you can find my whole hc on what everyone’s up to post-series here). I was talking to @iansfreckles a while back about a possible Gallagher/Tamietti family dinner- I’m so interested in how this would go and how the families’ dynamics would interact. SO, this takes place at said Gallagher/Tamietti family cookout, right as Lip and Tami are moving out of the house, and Ian and Mickey are moving in. Cami and Brad’s kids are with Aunt Oopie, I dunno I didn’t want to write them haha.

Content warning: ignorant/rude comments about individuals with mental illnesses and language akin to that of the show

Tami had almost said no when Cory asked to bring her new boyfriend to the Gallagher house. Between the Gallagher and Tamietti families, there were going to be plenty of big personalities under one roof, as is. But Cory had actually asked this time, and she had just babysat Fred during a last minute highlight appointment. Tami had reluctantly agreed and her sister had seemed so happy that she almost forgot her hesitation.

Looking back, Tami’s decision was questionable. Lip had been able to prepare his family for the rest of the Tamietti’s, explaining the family dynamics and topics to avoid. Chad was a wildcard.

He had burst through the front door laughing loudly beside Brad and Cami, who didn’t seem to think the joke was as funny as Chad did. Cory and Bob followed them in, annoyance clear on Bob’s face. Tami and Lip moved to the door to greet their visitors, Tami depositing Fred in Carl’s lap, where he was sitting on the couch. Carl immediately grabbed the toddler under his arms, grinning at him and lifting him up above his head, making propellor noises on his way down.

This, this is what Tami had wanted her family to see. The Tamiettis had made it clear that while they tolerated Lip, they thought Tami could do better. They thought he was ill equipped to help raise a family, constantly doubting his ability to provide, and his dedication to his family. Tami had tried to explain Lip’s role in his own family- the patriarch of the Gallagher home, a man who had been taking care of people for his entire life. Perhaps the only way for the other Tamiettis to see the value in the Gallagher side of Fred’s family, was to observe it first hand.

Lip made it to the Tamiettis first, shaking Bob’s hand and taking the handful of bags and jackets that were thrust into his arms.

“No show Brad!” Tami cheered, hugging her sisters, “You made it!”

Brad rolled his eyes, lightly clapping Tami on the shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

Cory turned towards her sister, a wide smile on her face, “Tam, this is Chad, the guy I was telling you about?”

Tami turned to shake his hand, finally giving him a good look. Truth be told, he looked like every other guy Cory had seriously dated- some tall, brunette, conventionally attractive, straight laced kind of guy. He didn’t seem any different from the other business majors, fraternity boys and bar bouncers that Cory had intruded her to.

“Tami right? So great to meet you, thanks for inviting me!”

“Of course, nice to meet you too! Come on in, you guys!”

The Tamiettis settled into the living room, Cami choosing the seat next to Carl, cooing down to Fred, “There’s my favorite nephew! How are you sweet boy?”

She ran a gentle hand across Fred’s head before introducing herself to Carl, “I’m Cami, Tami’s sister.” Carl swallowed a smirk at the rhyming names, nodding, “Carl, Lip’s brother.”

“Ah, the one buying the house?”

“Nah, that’s Ian and Mickey, they’re upstairs somewhere. I’m the cop,” Carl stated proudly.

“Fuck the police!” Mickey’s voice called into the living room in response, as a flash of red and black hair came tumbling down the stairs. All the Tamiettis turned to watch Mickey jog through the living room with Franny on his shoulders, Ian chasing after them.

“Get him Uncle Mickey!” Franny squealed, “He’s gonna catch us!”

“I’m a little busy running, kid. Hit ‘em or somethin’,” Mickey grunted, scrambling to hand his niece a rubber ball previously balanced on the back of the couch.

Franny wound up her arm, tossing the ball at Ian’s head with all her six year old might, “Take that, Uncle Ian! You’re dead!”

Ian groaned dramatically, clutching his face and sliding onto the ground. He let out a theatrical sign and closed his eyes, finally defeated.

Franny cheered as Mickey lifted her off his shoulders, “We did it! We killed him!” Franny dropped down to the ground to check that Ian had accepted his defeat, poking him in the back with the toe of her shoe.

Mickey gave her a crinkly grin, the kind he reserved for Franny and Ian alone- unguarded and childlike. “Sure did! Pretty badass if you ask me.”

Ian got to his feet, tickling Franny’s stomach as he addressed the room, “Hey, sorry we were in the middle of… a game.”

“Liquor store robbery!” Franny cheerfully announced.

Franny began introducing herself to the unfamiliar faces, sharing that she was in the first grade, enjoyed playing with guns, and wanted to be a welder like her mommy when she grew up. As Liam and Debbie descended the stairs, and the rest of the Gallaghers and Tamiettis introduced themselves, Tami marveled at how smoothly things seemed to be going. No one was yelling, or aggressively drunk, or making a thinly veiled classist comment- yet.

The two families quickly settled into a comfortable chatter of introductions and the conversation, surprisingly, continued to flow without a hitch. They soon made their way outside, where Debbie and Bob chatted while manning the grill. The other family members scattered across the yard- Liam sat in a lawn chair typing on a laptop, occasionally asking Lip for grammar advice. Ian, in the middle of telling some wild story from his EMT days, was fully emerged in conversation with the rest of the Tamietti family while Mickey and Carl considered how many crimes Carl could theoretically arrest him for, arguing over how many years Mickey would have to serve.

Everything was great- until Chad decided to open his mouth. They had finished dinner and were crammed into the living room, escaping the Chicago windchill. Chad was sharing one of his own work stories from the construction site he worked on, describing a man who had wandered onto the site and started yelling at Chad and some of his coworkers that week.

“Totally off his rocker,” Chad commented, “He kept telling us about how we were tearing down his house, and that he didn’t give us permission to do this. Just screaming at us, swearing, and he wouldn’t listen when we kept telling him that he trespassing, y’know? Just super crazy- needed a fucking Xanax or something.”

Ian tensed, fiddling with the ring on his left hand while the other Gallaghers exchanged pointed glances. Tami began to interrupt, clearly in attempt to change the subject, but Chad continued.

“The next day,” he explained, “the very next day, he came up to us and was asking to bum a smoke, like he didn’t fucking flip his crazy ass on us yesterday, I swear he must’ve been like bipolar or something, acting like we were old pals. Must’ve gotten carted off or killed or something, haven’t seen him since.”

While the Tamiettis offered a polite chuckle, the Gallaghers remained silent.

Mickey, who had been sitting on the couch next to Ian, looked up from his folded hands. “So you got something against bipolar people? It’s a fucking mental illness man.”

Chad smiled, backtracking, “Hey, nah, calm down. He’s just some crazy homeless dude, who cares?”

“He’s not just some crazy guy, he’s a person with a disease, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Mickey asked.

Ian placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder shaking his head. “Mick, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

Eyebrows raised comically high, Mickey stood and crossed his arms. “Um, fuck that, it does matter! You’re not a fucking punchline Ian. This is our house, yours and mine, and no one’s going to be talking like that in my house. Obviously no one else is going to say something, and you shouldn’t have to, so I will. I won’t stand for that shit.”

The Tamiettis exchanged horrified looks as the Gallaghers mostly just looked at the floor. Finally Lip spoke up from where he was standing by the TV, “Mental health is uh… a sensitive subject around here. We just… we take it seriously, y’know? First hand experiences and shit.”

Cory opened her mouth to speak but she quickly stopped when she saw Tami swiftly shake her head in her direction, suggesting she stay out of it.

Mickey lightly rubbed his eyebrow, “Yo, douchebag, apologize or get the hell out of my house.”

Chad raised his hands in surrender, “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal man, sorry.”

Mickey rolled his eyes with a huff, turning on his heel to walk towards the back of the house. Wordlessly, Ian followed him out the back door, leaving the living room in a heavy silence.

After a moment, Chad breaks the silence, “Look, I really didn’t mean to start something, I was just telling a story. Should I go out and apologize again, try to talk about it?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Liam replied, “You should give Mickey some time to cool off.”

“Yeah,” Lip agreed, “I wouldn’t follow them out. Mickey… he gets protective? Always has been, of Ian. Our mom was bipolar, and so’s Ian. He’s stable, doing great, but he’s, uh, he’s been through a lot. It’s just not good joke material around here.”

Chad nodded, silence overtaking the room again. Franny looked up from her coloring book, clearly bored with the turn the night had taken.

“I’m gonna go play with Uncle Mickey and cheer him up!”

Debbie chuckled from her seat across the room, “Yeah, go bring them some beers Franny.”

“Okay!” Franny chirped, hopping to her feet and skipping into the kitchen. Debbie gave a soft smile as she watched her daughter, on the way to hang out with her favorite uncles.

From his seat on the back stairs, Ian watched Mickey pace through the yard, grumbling about “Fucking Northside yuppies… and their ignorant bigoted asses… what the fuck is wrong with people?” He glanced over at Ian, his expression softening when he noticed the defeated look on Ian’s face. Mickey paused his pacing, coming to sit next to Ian on the steps.

“I’m sorry, I know I prolly embarrassed you. Was I out of line man? I just got so fucking mad,” Mickey quietly mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Ian gently shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You weren’t out of line… I think I’m just disappointed, y’know? That comments like that still get to me? I should be over it by now, every reminder that I’m sick or different shouldn’t still sting like that. And why do I have to be the one that the conflict and the drama revolves around? Why not fucking Carl or Liam or god… anyone else just for once?

Mickey’s expression softened even further. He nudged his knee into Ian’s leg, “What’s that shit you told me when Terry died? Trauma doesn’t always make fucking sense and recovery isn’t… oh shit, what’s the word? Linear! Recovery isn’t linear. Doesn’t make you fucking weak, just means you’ve been through some shit.”

“Yeah. I guess it was easier to tell you that than it is to tell myself.”

Mickey hummed in agreement and the two sat in silence for a moment before the back door creaked open. A tiny red head shoved her way through the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around two bottles, frosty with condensation. Franny sat down on the steps between them, silently handing her uncles their beers. Ian accepted his with a dry chuckle, thanking her. Mickey ruffled her hair, offering a small smile. The voices from inside had faded and the night was relatively calm, other than the occasional siren or dog barking.

Franny, not looking particularly concerned, looked up at them to ask, “Uncle Mickey, why’d you get mad at that guy?”

Mickey rubbed at his eyebrow and let out a sigh. He looked towards Ian, a silent request for him to take the lead on this conversation. He was confident in his ability to discuss the stupidity of princesses or the importance of wearing gloves during a legitimate liquor store robbery with his niece. He knew how to play, and joke, and how to be there when she woke up from a bad dream, stumbling down the stairs with bedhead and snotty tears. Mickey had grown into his role as an uncle, but he still doubted his ability to talk about the tough stuff with anyone other than Ian.

Ian cleared his throat, taking a second before asking, “Franny, do you know what it means to make a joke at someone else’s expense?”

Franny’s eyebrows scrunched together and she shook her head.

“It’s when you make a joke to kind of make fun of someone else. Like to tease them. Y’know how we make cop jokes around Uncle Carl because he’s a cop?”

She nodded, and Ian continued, “That guy… Aunt Tami’s sister’s boyfriend, was making a joke and it ended up being at my expense. That’s what made Uncle Mickey mad. He didn’t mean to make fun of me, but he kind of did. That’s all. Uncle Mickey was just sticking up for me.”

Franny sat for a moment, deep in thought. “I didn’t know he was talking about you.”

“No, he wasn’t. Not directly. He was telling a story about someone else. But he made a comment about him being bipolar. D’you remember when we talked about that? That I have bipolar disorder?”

Franny nodded, “That’s why you take your special medicine.”

Ian continued, “A lot of people don’t really understand what that means, and sometimes they make jokes about it that aren’t really funny. They’re just kind of… mean. So that’s why we got upset.”

Franny considered this for a minute and asked, “Do you want me to go tell mommy? She says I should tell her if someone’s being mean. She can fix it.”

Ian smiled a little, patting her little back and shaking his head, “Nah, mommy already knows, she heard. And I think Uncle Mickey did a pretty good job telling him that what he said was wrong.”

Mickey let out a sarcastic laugh, “And I got more to say to that piece of shit if I ever see his Northside yuppy fucking face again.”

“I think he got the point Mick,” Ian sighed, “Don’t waste your time.”

Franny shrugged “Mommy and Uncle Lip and Aunt Tami were all still talking in there when I left. Mommy told me it was a good idea for me to come out here.”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, bumping their shoulders together. “Whatcha wanna do, man? We can head back to the apartment, go to the Alibi and get tanked, I don’t care, it’s up to you.”

“Don’t know, I’m tired of running from things. And you were right Mick, it’s our fucking house. Could we just sit out here for a little while?” Mickey ran a thumb across Ian’s hand and mumbles so quietly, in that voice he only uses with Ian- “‘Course we can”

Having completed her task of delivering beers, Franny stood up and put her hands on her hips, “I’m going to go inside, I won’t let anyone be mean to you Uncle Ian.”

Ian looked up to lock eyes with his niece, “I appreciate it Fran, thanks.”

She stood up and gave Ian a kiss on the top of his head, no doubt a gesture she’d picked up from some other family member, likely Mickey or Fiona. Ian smiled as she turned away to walk back into the kitchen.

After a few minutes Ian jerked his head towards the door, “Y’ready?”

Mickey hummed in agreement, standing and offering back his hand to help Ian up. They walked over the threshold of the kitchen into a conversation clearly about Mickey’s exchange with Chad. The Tamiettis were all sitting down in the living room, with the Gallaghers mostly standing, leaning against the various remaining surfaces. Lip’s hands were in his hair, a plain indication of his frustration and exhaustion. Tami abruptly stopped talking, in the middle of what seemed like an impassioned rant. She seemed unsure of how to continue now that Ian and Mickey had reentered the house. Debbie, sat on the couch with Franny in her lap, was scowling, while Liam absently stared at the wall, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Carl quickly walked into the kitchen from where he had been leaning up against the living room door frame, clapping Ian on the shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you guys go take a walk or something for a sec- I think Lip and Tami have it handled.”

Lip spoke up from the living room, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Mickey tensed, bracing himself. “No, it’s not fucking okay Phillip-“

Lip grumbled something about that not being what he meant, shaking his head, while Ian quietly interrupted his husband, forcing him to make eye contact.

“No, it’s not, but I don’t want to just keep going over it, Mick. I’m not in the mood to educate him. I’m not saying it’s okay, but I want to move on. Lip can handle it.”

Carl nodded and repeated himself, “Go take a walk, come back in ten. Lip and Tami got it.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint and pressing it into Ian’s palm with a smirk.

“Rolled this for later, you guys take it.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey, who let out a sigh with a slouch, “Fine. Be back in ten.”

The two of them return to the backyard, Tami’s yelling resumed, her voice carrying all the way outside.

“M’sorry, I know I keep talkin’ when you just want it to be over with,” Mickey mumbled, looking down at the dead grass in the vacant lot beside the house.

Ian grabbed him by the back of his neck, fingers brushing through Mickey’s short hair, “Hey, no. I… I appreciate you sticking up for me- seriously. I’m just tired… tonight’s not supposed to be about me y’know? It’s supposed to be about Lip and Tami, and Fred, not me. I just wanted to be Lip’s brother tonight, not the crazy brother, the sick brother. I just don’t wanna be the one that causes the issues anymore.”

“You didn’t cause this Ian. You being bipolar didn’t fucking cause this- that asshole, opening his mouth and not knowing when to shut it- that’s what caused it. I get that you just wanna let it go, and I will, but if he say’s something else-“

“If he says something else you can beat the shit out of him.”

Mickey grinned, looking up to meet Ian’s gaze. “Fucking fantastic. You wanna smoke this bitch?”

He grabbed the joint out of Ian’s hand and pulled a lighter from his flannel’s front pocket.

Ian finally cracked a smile, one that actually reaches his eyes, “Free weed? Fuck yeah.”

Mickey tossed the lighter to Ian, who caught it and lit the joint with a practiced flick. He took a couple hits and closed his eyes, smiling again as he exhaled the smoke. He handed the lit joint over to Mickey, along with his lighter and jerked his head in the direction of the van in the backyard, “Wanna go sit?”

Mickey nodded and breathed in a sharp inhale, heading in the direction of the passenger seat door.

Ian climbed up into the drivers seat, letting out a deep sigh, “Feel like I’m in high school again- sneaking around with you, trying to find somewhere to be alone.” Mickey chuckled and passed the joint back over.

They smoked in silence for a while, Ian nudging Mickey with his elbow as the ember approaches the filter, “You want the last hit?”

“Nah man, that’s yours,” Mickey shakes his head.

Ian took it, stubbing out the butt on the van’s dashboard and tossing it onto the floor.

“Still wanna kick his ass?” He asked, lazily turning his head towards Mickey with a grin.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I think I can contain myself.”

“Yeah?” Ian breathed, inching his face closer to his husband’s. The moon, freshly risen, highlighted Ian’s face, illuminating the dash of freckles across his nose.

Mickey didn’t answer, opting to close the distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s lips. Ian’s hand came up to cradle Mickey’s face, thumb gently brushing his cheek.

And if they didn’t make it back inside for a while, so be it.

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-One: Boiling Water ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another day...another away basketball game. Which means a pretty empty classroom for the Home Ec group.

And Sasuke still has a lot on his mind regarding the class.

It’s true that he’s really enjoyed this semester. He had his doubts in the beginning. It has a bit of a reputation for being...well, girly. Of course, now he knows better. Sewing, cooking, cleaning...it’s not a girl thing, it’s a person thing.

While most of his classmates are underclassmen girls, they’ve subtly - in their own way - help impress just such a fact upon him. Doesn’t matter what you are. Got a hole in your shirt? You can fix it, just gotta know how. Need to make a dessert for a friend’s potluck? You can make one, just gotta know how! And literally everyone needs to know how to clean. Otherwise...you’re just gross.

In short, he went from one of those senior guys to a better equipped soon-to-be-adult. And also from someone rather intimidating in the class to the girls’ favorite person to fill in on gossip and ask opinions for. From scary upperclassman to adopted older brother of the class, really.

Well...for everyone except one person.

Hinata’s been...different. Mostly because she’s a senior, like he is. But also because she’s pretty much teacher number two. A copilot for the class, but especially for Sasuke. She helped him catch up in a variety of the class’s aspects, but especially cooking. Which his mother has been ecstatic about.

And over time, it’s become less about him learning from her, and more just...hanging out with her. They use free days to just...sit and cook things and talk. He hasn’t ever really had a friend like her before. Mostly he’s only ever just been commandeered into friendships like that with Naruto, or Shikamaru, or any of the other guys in their year. Any girls he’s met have generally been obnoxious and only wanted one thing from him.

...ironic then that the one he’s been able to tolerate and actually befriend...he’s been trying very hard not to feel more than that for.

He didn’t even mean for it to happen! It just...did! She’s so kind, and soft-spoken, and sweet...and she’s never treated him like the other girls have treated him. Like some kind of prey to be stalked and hunted down. It drives him up the wall...no, Hinata just treats him like anyone else. Like a friend.

And...and that’s what he wants.

...ugh.

It just so happens, too, that this entire conundrum is coming up as the semester is about to end. Technically Sasuke only needs one semester of this class to meet his requirements for graduation. And at the beginning of the year, he had assumed he’d be thankful once it was over. But now...he’s not so sure. And not just because of Hinata. He genuinely enjoys the class, and wants to stay.

There’s just one problem: his dad has been hounding him about taking as many “attractive” classes to colleges as he can. And needless to say that a Home Ec course doesn’t really do much for him in that regard.

Which leaves Sasuke in a bit of a bind. Does he ignore his father’s very obvious hinting and risk making him mad? Or does he abandon one of his favorite classes to please him (and whatever university ends up accepting him), making himself all the more miserable?

It’s been bugging him for a few weeks now...and he really isn’t sure what to do.

So...he decides to ask the one person he thinks he should.

“Another quiet day,” Hinata muses, letting her bag rest near the table she always sits at. “Well...want to cook something?”

Sasuke doesn’t reply at first, and her head tilts curiously.

“...Sasuke?”

“Could we maybe do something...else first?”

“Um...sure! What...what were you thinking?”

“I’d like some advice.”

Pale eyes blink in surprise. “...okay! Um...would you like some tea for while we...talk?”

“...yeah, that’d be nice.”

Nodding, Hinata fetches one of the Home Ec room’s kettles, filling it with water and letting it sit on the stovetop. “Is...everything okay?”

“Y’know how I mentioned changing classes the other day?”

“Oh...yeah. Still haven’t m-made a decision yet?”

His head shakes.

“Well, I...I don’t know if I’m really the person to ask, Sasuke.”

“I already asked my mom. She said I should stay.”

“...I take it you, um...you haven’t asked your dad?”

“No. I already know what he’d say. And...I didn’t want to risk bringing it up and having him make up my mind for me, y’know?”

“Yeah...I get that.” Going quiet for a moment, she seems to mull that over. “...what do you want to do?”

“...I want to stay.”

“...but?”

“But...I don’t want my dad to get angry. I don’t want to risk screwing up my college apps.”

“Will half a credit really make or break you…?”

“No. I don’t think so? I don’t know!”

Holding up a hand for a pause, Hinata lets the kettle build to a steady whistle before pouring two mugs of tea. “...here.”

“...thanks.”

“Let’s sit.”

Sasuke follows, holding his cup and not yet drinking. It’s almost more soothing just to hold it.

“...before, when we talked...you said you liked this class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that you...you already know your major, and...what kind of job you want?”

“I guess. It’s not really that I...want it? More just I guess it’s what I’ll do.”

Hinata’s eyes lower to the table, clearly thinking. “...do you...enjoy the things we do in class? Like...would you consider them hobbies, now?”

“...some of it? Cooking, yeah. I was kinda meh about it before, but...now I really like it. The rest is just useful.”

“...then I would stay, if I were you. Your dad can’t throw much of a fit about half a credit, right…?”

Sasuke sighs, a hand running back through his hair. “...I guess not. I just…” There’s a beat of hesitation. “...my dad’s pretty strict with my brother and I. Itachi’s already getting his undergrad in business this year, and he’s going on for a master’s. I don’t even think he wants to, he just feels like he has to because Dad pushed him into it. And then he started doing the same to me when Itachi started college.”

Hinata’s expression sobers. “...I know how that goes. My father and I, we...we had a big f-falling out when I was younger about what I wanted to do. When I told him I was going to take a year off...he told me he was cutting all support once I graduate.”

“What?!”

A nod. “He doesn’t think it’s proper. So I’ll be on my own. But I don’t have a plan...nothing’s ever felt that c-clear to me. I wanted the year to take and just...discover myself. See if...there was something I wanted to pursue.”

Sasuke’s brows furrow with a frown. “...I still say you do culinary stuff. You’re so good at it, Hinata! And you clearly enjoy it! Screw your dad and his snotty standards. Take a year, explore, and then go to culinary school. Look...I know there’s a pretty good program with the local community college. I bet you’d do great, and it wouldn’t be very expensive. Hell, I’d help you if I could.”

At that, her face slackens in surprise. “You...you really…?”

“You’re like...the nicest person I know. If your dad’s gonna treat you like that, it’s his loss, not yours. It’s your life, ‘nata. Do what you want with it.” Sasuke takes a gulp of tea in a spike of temper, feeling it burn down his throat. “...and if you open that baker you talked about? I’ll come work for you - do your books and stuff. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing otherwise. I’d do it.”

“But...w-why…?”

“Cuz you’re my friend. And I want to support you. Look...I know it’s only been a semester, but...you’re one of my best friends. Maybe even my best friend. So what kinda friend would I be back if I didn’t do that much, huh?”

To his own surprise, her jaw trembles, tears beading along her lids. “No one’s...n-no one’s ever...told me that before. Just...said I should do it.”

“Then you need to find better people to be around,” he mutters stubbornly.

“...thank you, Sasuke. Heh…” She dashes at her eyes with a sheepish smile. “...this was supposed to be advice for you...not me.”

“Hey, it’s a two-way street. I’ll stick to the class. That much we pretty much already knew anyway, right?”

“...right.”

Sasuke’s eyes flicker between her own, which stare a bit somberly at the table. “...it’ll be fine, Hinata. Besides, we’ve got a whole semester before we graduate. You can make some plans between now and then. Just...forget your dad and his attitude. It’s all gonna work out.”

“...I hope so.” Finally looking up, she gives him a rosy-cheeked smile. “...I’m glad you’re staying. It...it means a lot to me to have you to talk to, and just...y’know...hang out with. Is...is that lame?”

“...nah, it’s not lame at all.”

.oOo.

(This is a sequel to days 98, 108, 139, 227, 284, and 301!) Heyyy, guys - sorry for the unexpected two day break. But uh...I'll talk more about that below for anyone wondering. For now, about the drabble! We're back in the Home Ec verse! I love this one, for a couple of reasons. Mostly cuz it's just so domestic and slice-of-lifey, y'know? It's relaxing, even when writing more stressful parts for them like this one. I dunno. It's just nice xD Not really a full 'story' per se since not much really...HAPPENS. But it's one of my favorite series. Anyway, a lil behind-the-scenes for a second, which comes first with a little warning: the rest of the year is going to be VERY busy for me due to some irl changes happening this month. The next two weeks especially, but it'll probably drag on until at least the new year...I dunno. But in short, I've been missing so many days the last few weeks because life is REALLY stressful, and I've just been too tired. Add in that I have a chronic illness to deal with, and just...yeah. I get behind and have to take breaks. And honestly I'm getting very burnt out by a whole year of writing an average of 1500 words A DAY. For reference's sake, this challenge JUST past 500,000 words. And I also did SHM, which was another 30,000, and ANOTHER ship month which was 75,000. That's over 600,000, and that's not counting other side projects I've done. So yes, I write other things too, but that makes this challenge all the more...well, challenging. For reference, today's prompt was for November 27. That's how far behind I've gotten. But there's just...really not much I can do about it, sadly. I don't have time to make them up, and likely will just have to drag the event out past December 31. Then on top of that there's organizing all the mini series for AO3, and just...yeah. I'm gonna need a LONG break once that's done before I even THINK of taking on all the projects I want to that will stem from this challenge. SO, in short...just please be patient with me ;w; I'm doing my best, and in the end - as much as I love this - it IS just fanfiction. Real life has to come first. So I hope you'll bear with me for the last few weeks, and then the much-needed hiatus once it's over to recup before hopefully turn some of these into proper fics. We'll see how life goes. But, that's enough rambling out of me! I just thought I'd elaborate a bit in case anyone was curious. I'm all right, just...very busy and stressed ^^; So I'll just have to take this challenge as I can. But thanks to everyone sticking with it. I appreciate it! On that note, though...I better go. Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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teresa60521-blog · 5 years

Text

Side Effects

chapter 2: fatigue

Waking up to the fluorescent lights and the calm blue and white resembling a hospital room was not pleasant. Uraraka thought for a moment that she had died and gone to heaven or something dramatic like that, but after sluggishly feeling for her pulse she was put at ease. Her eyelids were heavy but she forced them open despite the blurriness of sleep. There was a pounding against her skull that sounded like the steady thrum of a bass drum.

“How are you feeling, dear?” A gravelly voice came from her right. It was much different than the one that had spoken to her through the wood of her dorm room door that morning. This was older, much older, and more feminine. Uraraka turned to see Recovery Girl in her green chair, smiling at her softly. It was her worst nightmare, waking up in the place that she had oh so desperately been avoiding.

How was she here again? Oh yeah, she collapsed.

Bakugou wasn’t going to be happy when he found out. Heck, he probably already knew since the fall came during their practice time. If he could he would be sitting in the plastic red chair beside her bed, waiting for her to wake up so he could scolded her back into sleeping. However he would never jeopardize the secrecy of their relationship like that. Not that the wrinkled woman to her side would tell a soul, but Bakugou would still never allow himself to show weakness in front of anybody other than her. And maybe All Might.

“Ah, I’m okay.” It came out more passively than she had hoped and she felt a little guilty.

“Your friends told me you’ve been feeling ill for a couple of days now.” Recovery Girl cut right to the chase and Uraraka cursed her traitor friends. Damn them for being so tentative to her health.

“Um, well, yes. Just a little… vomiting and dizziness in the morning but then it goes away!” Uraraka trilled.

Recovery Girl hummed and nodded, writing on her clipboard. “How long has this been going on, exactly?”

Uraraka bit her lip. “I guess… Since Saturday.” It was Thursday now and the nausea was still as strong as it had been that day. Uraraka didn’t say anything about it.

“You ought not push yourself so hard, dear.” Recovery Girl advised.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Though, I don’t think this is all about stress, you know.” Recovery Girl scooted closer to her and tilted her head to the side. Her nerves bounced against each other, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the old woman’s gaze. The woman may be short but she was kind of intimidating. “I healed you yet I didn’t detect any changes in your state.”

Uraraka’s blood ran cold. “Oh?”

Recovery Girl only smiled. “Which is strange. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of personal questions? It may be a bit awkward but it may help with the situation.”

“I… I guess….”

Uraraka honestly had no idea what kind of personal questions Recovery Girl was going to ask her. Didn’t her parents have to sign a waiver or something like that? Was that only for jail purposes? Uraraka had no idea how these things worked but she was almost seventeen, she shouldn’t be this nervous. Plus Recovery Girl knew what she was doing. She was at least eighty years old; she had probably seen much worse than this. Nausea and fatigue weren’t all that bad in the scope of things.

The smile never faded from Recovery Girl’s face. It made Uraraka feel a little better, at least. Until she opened her mouth. “Are you having a regular menstrual cycle?”

Uraraka blinked. And then she blinked again. What did that have to do with anything? She shifted a bit uncomfortably, paper thin sheets rustling with her. In all honesty, the brunette couldn’t remember her last period. One, two months ago maybe? She thought it was normal to sometimes skip a cycle or two. It happened to everybody, right? She had always had a regular period, getting it the same week every month since she was twelve.

“Um, two months I think?” With a quivering hand she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Her face felt hot and she tried not to make eye contact with the nurse, who was scribbling something onto the paper attached to the clipboard.

“Are you sexually active?”

Uraraka bit her lip. She didn’t want this sweet old lady knowing her business. It was almost taboo in their country to have sex underage but there was no denying that she and Bakugou had, had sex before. She could only count on one hand how many times they had done it, but the deed was done, right there in the dorms. Teenagers were sexually active all the time, though it was mostly swept under the rug. It’s why perverts like Mineta were so rampant, as they would only experience sexual pleasure through their fist and at the earliest they would experience it in college. But it did happen before and it was normal. If two people were in love then naturally they would have sex, right?

Uraraka was close to regretting it as she couldn’t gauge the look in the nurse’s eyes.

“...yes.” Uraraka hid behind chocolate tresses falling in waves against her face. She was glad she had been growing it out so she could avoid the gaze the nurse was giving her.

“Have you been experiencing anything aside from nausea and dizziness?”

Uraraka thought for a moment. “I guess I’ve been a little bit more tired than normal. But I just need to pace myself with my studies.”

Recovery Girl looked at her sympathetically. Uraraka didn’t understand. Why was she being met with sympathetic black eyes?

“Oh hun.” Recovery Girl rolled closer and pat her leg where it was covered by linen of the bed. Uraraka’s heart thumped painfully against her ribcage. Anxiety buzzed through her veins and sat on her chest, lungs barely filling with air.

She was not prepared for the older woman’s next words.

“These are early signs of pregnancy dear.”

The air that was so desperately trying to fill her lungs escaped and forgot the passage to flow back in. Big brown eyes became impossibly wide and vision became unfocused. The room spun and although Uraraka tried to fix her gaze on something in the room, she could not. Everything made sense yet she just… couldn’t believe it. She was only sixteen, Bakugou only seventeen. They were too young to be parents. Too young to make life changing decisions such as this. Even if she had just been hit with the news, that could potentially be wrong though she did trust the older woman, Uraraka already felt an overwhelming responsibility for the thing growing inside her.

“Are you sure?” Uraraka whispered, feeling incredibly small.

“Well, there’s only way to know for sure.” Recovery Girl stated. “We’d either have to take a blood or urine sample to be able to tell. Or do an ultrasound, but we don’t have that equipment here as this is unheard of at our school.”

Pulling her knees to her chest, she sat up and shook her head. No, she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to know. Not right now, not tomorrow, not the next day. Not ever. This was too much . Too much responsibility and too much news for one afternoon. She wanted to curl up against Bakugou and forget that this even happened, wanted to run her fingers through golden hair and tell him how cute he was. Like a little, angry pomeranian always ready to pounce. That was simple, everything with Bakugou was simple.

This was not.

There was a careful “I’m sorry dear” and then the sound of wheels skidding across linoleum, moving back to the desk. Uraraka closed her eyes, willing her breathing to even out. Nausea returned and clawed at the back of her throat. The demon was back, pleading to be released from the confines of her closing throat.

Pregnant? Really? She and Bakugou had been very careful, using condoms the each time they had sex They had only had sex four times. Uraraka wracked her brain for the details of each instance but it all came down to the pleasure and not the important things like condoms or birthcontrol. She had never thought to go on birth control until that moment.

The cyclical rise and fall of her chest from deep breaths allowed her to calm down and slowly she uncurled from the fetal position. She was released after Recovery Girl did one more check and Uraraka stood on wobbly legs. There was nobody to share this with, not that she would be able to spill in the first place. Her way of coping was to push it to the back of her mind and not believe it . It wasn’t the brightest decision but for now it was the best one.

“Uraraka-san!” Two voices called as she left the infirmary, causing her to jump a little. She was too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice that Midoriya and Iida had been waiting patiently for her.

Uraraka stiffened but tried to keep her emotions under control. “W-What are you two doing here?”

Iida pushed his glasses up. “We came to see how you were doing of course. You gave us all quite the scare! You really need to take more care of yourself! You knew you were sick and you still did not take proper precautions in going to see the doctor.”

Her bespectacled friend never failed to make her giggle with his odd way of speaking. “I’m sorry, Iida-kun! But Recovery Girl said-” I’m pregnant.She couldn’t tell her friends this, she realized. If she really was pregnant then she would have to tell them whose baby it was. Bakugou would need to know first, out of courtesy.

Bakugou was a ticking time bomb, literally, and his reactions to this particular situation were unpredictable. Would he be happy? Would he freak out? Uraraka was leaning towards the latter.

“She said that it’s just from exhaustion.” Uraraka hated lying but she knew it would come in handy these next few weeks.

Midoriya frowned and Iida’s mouth pulled into a thin, disappointed line. He launched into a lecture about how she really needed to take better care of herself and if she knew she was sick she should’ve rested up. Midoriya said that he would make her soup and despite her protesting that she really was fine now they dropped her off at her dorm room, soup still promised and Iida still ranting.

Finally able to lay down she flopped face first into her pillow and exhaled. This was all a disaster. She didn’t like having people doting on her and taking care of her; she had been independent for quite some time now considering her parents were always out of the prefecture for work. She was used to nursing herself back to health. Having her friends forcing soup down her throat made her sick again.

Midoriya brought the soup by a half hour later and Uraraka took it with a smile and said that she really just wanted to rest right now, thanking him all the while. Midoriya didn’t look convinced but respected her wishes and left her be. The soup was tasty and left her feeling full and lethargic, content to staying in bed propped against plushy pillows for the remainder of the night.

Her mind did somersaults trying to come to terms with what Recovery Girl had said, her hands fleeting over her stomach more than once. She couldn’t imagine a human growing beneath her skin and inside of her. She couldn’t imagine herself carrying a child for nine months, growing bigger and bigger. She didn’t want to even think of the excruciating pain of childbirth. She didn’t want to think about how she would have to give up her dreams of becoming a hero in order to raise a child.

Yet, if she was pregnant, she couldn’t see herself giving it up.

But she wasn’t. There was no way. Her body was just tricking her and tricking the nurse. She was definitely just sick.

Uraraka didn’t know how long she laid there and pondered her future for but there was suddenly a knock at her door, jerking her from her wandering mind. Half of her wanted to ignore it but the knocking became more persistent, and that could only mean one thing. It had her scrambling from the sheets and stumbling over her own two feet. She opened the door just a crack and peeked out. Deja vu struck when a familiar pair of crimson eyes glared down at her. Strong hands forced the door open, long enough for him to slip past and close the door behind him.

“See what happens when you don’t listen to me?” Bakugou chastised, lifting her chin with his finger to force her to look at him.

Uraraka pouted. “I really didn’t think there was anything wrong!”

Bakugou lowered his voice as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “You were literally vomiting this morning! How the hell does that say you’re okay in any shape or form?”

“I don’t know!” Uraraka threw her hands up.

Bakugou sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was practically steam coming from his palms and his nostrils but Uraraka knew he was trying to stay calm. “You scared the shit out of all of us, y’know. You scared the shit outta me .”

“I’m sorry.” Uraraka touched his cheek and he covered her hand with his. The contrast between the softness of their skin was striking, Bakugou’s palm littered with tiny nicks and scars from the usage of his quirk. Uraraka only had the pads of her fingers that added to the innate softness of her hands.

“What did the old hag say?”

Uraraka snorted. “Don’t call Recovery Girl that. She’s healed your sorry ass many times.”

Bakugou nipped her thumb playfully. “Oi, language.”

Uraraka tipped her head back and laughed. “Don’t you dare tell me to watch my language, Mr. King of Explodo-Kills.”

“That was a great name, I don’t care what that Midnight bitch thinks.” Bakugou shook his head. “Just tell me what the old woman said, come on.”

Uraraka bit her lip. Lying seemed to be in order again. She hadn’t wanted to lie to Iida or Midoriya earlier and she sure as hell didn’t want to lie to Bakugou. She couldn’t remember the last time she had even told such a big lie. Though there was no proof yet that she was actually pregnant, the thought was still there, the elephant in the room, only visible to her.

“It’s just from overworking myself, like I thought.” Her voice was as steady as she could possibly make it.

Bakugou stared hard at her and Uraraka swallowed around a gulp of air. Then there was a soft kiss pressed to her lips. “Stupid girl,” mumbled Bakugou and Uraraka grinned as he spoke through their kiss.

“You’re the stupid one for thinking that it would be anything else. You should listen to me more often.”

Bakugou scoffed. “In your fucking dreams.”

Instead of replying, Uraraka insistently kissed the scowl off his face, now that the threat of being sick was out of the way. They tumbled into the bed, soft kisses linking them together for a long while. The feeling of Bakugou’s strong arms caging her in made Uraraka feel secure. With every brush of Bakugou’s tongue against her own and across her jaw, Uraraka felt sparks pop beneath her skin. Bakugou had that effect on her, dazzling her senses with his entire being.

It was Uraraka’s biggest secret that Bakugou was gentle. He handled her as if she were thousand year old China, as if she would shatter into microscopic pieces if touched the wrong way. Despite what Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero had said after their fight, she was far from fragile.

It all felt incredibly domestic, lying in bed with Bakugou, slow kisses tilting the world ever so slightly and making her dizzy. The comfort and exhaustion from the day made Uraraka fall asleep against his chest, blankets cocooned around their hips. She didn’t feel sixteen years old, curled up to her secret boyfriend after sneaking him into her room. She felt like this was meant to be, that she was much older and living the life she was supposed to be living.

The next morning she was brought back down to earth, bent over the toilet, head curled over the rim. Her stomach purged into the water below and hot tears burned behind clenched eyelids.

The words morning sickness swam through her hazy mind and it caused her to puke once more. She briefly wondered if she should take Recovery Girl’s advice and get some sort of physical proof of pregnancy. The idea made her dig crescent moons into pudgy thighs.

Only one person could really help her right now. It was the same person who she had collapsed in front of the day before. It wouldn’t be too hard; it would mean that she would be exposing her secret, a secret that was only half of her’s to share.

Another lie told wouldn’t hurt, right?

#bakugou x uraraka

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imightbeapotatobutihavestandards · 6 years

Text

He’s Hurting Me Pt 9

Summary: Logan begins to get worried when Patton ditched both him and Roman, without even a text. He knows something’s wrong, so he finally goes to see him. Desperate to help.

This chapter is freaking long guys, honestly I’m sorry. They’re usually like 1500 words... this is over 5000... I got a bit carried away.

Warnings: Lots of talk about abuse, violence, sexual abuse, cuts/scars, panic attacks

Part 9

Logan wasn’t mad when Patton didn’t show up for coffee the next day. He’d tapped his fingers repeatedly on the table, checked his watch, messaged him. Nothing. He called him. Nothing. That wasn’t odd, Patton often forgot to charge his phone, or turn it on, or even answer. Never on purpose, it just slipped his mind as his phone wasn’t that important to him, he was the opposite of Roman and Virgil in that respect. What was odd, wasn’t Patton blowing him off. It had happened so many times by now, something would come up last minute, something usually to do with Mike. What was odd, was Patton not notifying him before. Patton was the kindest, sweetest person Logan had ever met, and he’d never want Logan to waste his valuable time, sitting alone, upset and embarrassed in a coffee shop, he’d have told him as soon as possible. But Logan wasn’t mad that Patton had just left him, in the coffee shop, by himself.

Logan wasn’t mad when Patton did the same to Roman. The following Monday, Roman sat alone, waiting for his friend to appear. But he never showed up. Roman tried calling him, but nothing. Defeated, he’d messaged Logan and left, picking up an extra ice coffee for Virgil on his way out. Logan felt a familiar feeling bubbling up in him again, pulsing through him. But Logan wasn’t mad, not at all.

Logan wasn’t mad when he discovered Patton hadn’t been at work for that past week. It was Thursday by the time Logan managed to get to the cafe before it closed. It was coming up to exam season and Logan had been desperately grading essays, homework, extra revision, and trying to help each student individually, trying to find ways to explain things better for them. He’d been desperate to see Patton, but by the time he’d left the school, it was already too late. Thankfully, come Thursday he’d only had to briefly explain red shift to a student after class, then he was free to go. He’d usually have lessons to plan, but not tonight. He rushed to his car and made his way to the café, he’d practically sprinted to the door, swinging it open in a dramatic Roman-esque fashion. There only were a few customers, most of them being students, happily chatting and sipping coffee in the comfortable café. Thomas, Patton’s older brother, was casually wiping down the deep brown counter, he looked up through his fringe, grinning brightly when he saw Logan.

“Hey, Logan!” He smiled that bright smile the Sanders’ seemed to possess, an infectiously beautiful smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Salutations, Thomas. I was actually looking for your brother.”

“Oh.” Thomas seemed very confused, tilting his head the smallest bit to the side. “He’s-um, he’s not been in. For the whole week. Mike called up and told me he was ill.”

Breath caught in Logan’s throat, it took everything in him to keep his voice level and face emotionless. “Mike told you?”

“Well, yeah, is something wrong?” Thomas asked, putting down the cloth and standing up straight, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m not sure.” Logan replied honestly. “I’ll stop by his on my way home. Don’t worry about it Thomas, I’ll text you when I see him.” He turned to leave.

“Alright, take care of him Logan.” Thomas replied, eyebrows still knitted together in concern, posture still straight as a blade.

“I will.”

Logan wasn’t mad. Logan was terrified. Patton hated missing work, he loved that café too much, and he loved spending time with Thomas. Patton would come in deathly pale, barely able to stay on his feet, and Thomas would have to call Virgil, or even on the occasion they were free, Roman and Logan, to force Patton home. Something didn’t feel right. The teacher wasn’t one to panic easily, and certainly wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but he was sure there was something deeply wrong going on, and it made him feel physically sick. The thought of Patton; sweet, wonderful Patton, getting hurt in any way, seemed so unthinkable, but Logan knew it had been happening for a while. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, his self-restraint working overtime to stop him from hunting Mike down right then and there. Again, Logan wasn’t one for jumping to conclusions, and here he was so convinced of Mike’s hidden malicious nature, with only circumstantial evidence, however, when it came to Patton, Logan wasn’t always the most reasonable. The young man just did something to him, something that could sometimes cloud his cynical thoughts, or interfere with his insecurities, something that made him feel the need to protect the little ray of sunshine.

By the time Logan pulled up in Patton’s driveway, his usually restricted emotions seemed to be running riot in him. It was a containable riot, but a riot none the less. His thoughts seemed to spiral from fear and worry, to rage at Mike, to utter confusion at why he felt like everything was crumbling around him when he hadn’t even spoke to Patton yet. Logan paused, taking a deep breath and counting to ten, steeling himself and trying to calm his revolting emotions. He tried desperately to think reasonably as he knocked on the bright blue door, already preparing for several different situations.

Logan wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected the door to pull open slowly and cautiously. But it did. Patton’s head peeked through the gap, clearly confused, his eyes looking lost and a little scared. His expression changed completely upon seeing Logan, and he swung the door open fully, revealing his full body.

“Logan?” Patton asked, eyebrows furrowing together. “Wh…why are you-“ Patton cut himself off as he noticed his friend’s horrified expression. He followed the taller’s eyes to his bandaged wrists, panic beginning to settle.

Instinctively he drew back, hiding his arms behind his back, mind searching through a million excuses, but it was too late, Logan had seen and was advancing towards him as he fumbled for words. Patton was so lost he had faded out for a moment, and suddenly all he knew was a figure was close to him, he was holding out a hand, he was reaching for him, Patton’s heart leapt and he jerked backwards, cowering, expecting pain. Logan stopped dead in his tracks, looking at Patton heartbroken.

“Patton, please can I see your hand?” Logan’s voice sounded so much softer, so much sadder than he’d heard it in a while. The taller man stepped inside the house and shut the door, cutting off the outside world, much to the other’s relief. Patton shakily complied, praying to anyone who would listen that Logan wouldn’t freak out.

But he wasn’t a religious man.

Logan carefully unwrapped the bandages, inspecting the wounds, he couldn’t help the slight relief upon realising they weren’t self-inflicted, so what caused them? The cuts were uneven, some deep, some not, some already seemed pretty much healed. One of his wrists was also bruised, the soft freckled skin stained with deep purple, vivid blues and sickening yellows. Logan seemed to jump through so many possibilities, eliminating several as a new theory popped up. Whatever the cause, right now, it didn’t matter, because one conclusion always stayed the same: who had done it. Logan felt that bubble of rage in his stomach, his worry for his friend made him attempt to swallow it down, but it never seemed to subside.

“Patton when did you last change these bandages?” Logan practically growled, not daring to meet Patton’s eyes. He knew his tone would already scare the poor man enough, let alone the fire burning behind his eyes. Like he predicted, Patton flinched slightly, causing a part of the teacher to shatter, dulling the flames eating at him by a little, not enough though.

“U-um…” Patton squeaked, desperately searching his mind for the last time he’d dared look at his aching arms. He realised, with regret, he hadn’t changed them since they’d first been bandaged, he’d been too intimidated by what it meant, it taunted him of what had happened. How he’d caused Mike to lash out. How he’d gotten himself hurt. How it was all his fault… wasn’t it?

“Sunday?” Patton said, though it came out like a question. He could feel Logan sigh heavily, his voice softened suddenly with protectiveness as he spoke.

“Please sit down.” He then walked to where he knew Patton kept his bandages.

Logan knew he had to contain himself, he hated how he’d scared Patton already. The young man had been through enough. Collecting supplies he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He could deal with his anger later, his first priority is Patton. His thoughts quickly flickered back to all the times the protective younger man had fought for him, how when Logan had thought he was trapped Patton had grabbed his hand and they’d ran, how Patton never failed to come up with an awful pun in every situation, how he’d smile so brightly it was almost blinding. He felt relief run through him, just for a moment, dimming the fires. He kept thinking, kept trying to calm himself, for Patton. He thought back to the first time he’d openly cried around Patton, felt the pressure release as he finally just collapsed into caring arms. He winced again remembering the pained expression when he’d shown Patton his scar, and how his face had changed to utter heartbreak when he told him it was of his own father’s doing. Logan vividly remembered how everything he’d tried to keep hidden so desperately for all those years of his life suddenly came spilling out, how everything so ugly and pitiful just fell from his mouth because he was so unable to stop it, and because Patton was so ready to listen.

*Flashback because somehow Logan’s backstory made it here*

Logan allowed himself to think back to what had happened after that. Patton had begged him to get out of that house but Logan couldn’t, it would mean leaving his father alone. Logan’s mother had died in a car accident when he was younger, and since he had always been blamed for it, so he understood where his father’s aggression came from, and despite all the fear he harboured towards him, he loved him, he couldn’t abandon him, leave him truly alone. At least he couldn’t until that night. The night of his mother’s birthday, when his father all but drowned himself in cheap liquor and allowed himself to stew in his awful mood, he was so much more unstable than usual. Logan remembered crawling to bed when the older man had finally let him go, the one place he was safe was in his room. He had finally allowed himself to curl into a ball cradling his bruising arm, when he’d heard heavy footsteps. He tensed and froze automatically, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing if he just pretended to be asleep his father wouldn’t care, like usual. But that wasn’t the case that night. The steps continued, he heard them draw closer and closer, he remained paralysed as his door swung open. His limbs were stuck entirely, like every muscle had just stopped working. He’d hoped his father would just leave, but he didn’t. He felt a hatred filled gaze that was cast at him, and something icy cold crawled up his spine. Suddenly out of nowhere he felt a weight on him, and arms forcing him to turn onto his back. He’d snapped his eyes open, only to be met with blurry dark shapes, without even realising it he reached for his glasses, scooping them off his bed side table and trying to sit up. The arms knocked the glasses from his hands, and pined him against the bed. He wasn’t sure what was happening.

Logan remembered vividly the constricting feeling of arms on him, the fear of the unknown, how he’d screamed as loud as possible and how the sound had been muffled with panic. His father was shouting something at him. He was shaking him, a bruising grip on his arms.

Nononononononono.

That was all he could process. His defiance.

Nononononononono.

He frantically flung his arms anywhere, reaching for anything he could find. His hands closed around something on his table, it was heavy and an odd shape, he didn’t have time to process what it was. He desperately attempted to grab it, eventually managing to curl his fingers around the odd shape. With all his strength he smashed it heavily against his attacker, hearing a violent smash. It was his lamp. He didn’t have time to care. The weight fell off him, as soon as he could move he was up. He scooped his glasses from the floor and sprinted down the stairs, stumbling and hitting the wall as he went. He needed something, where was his phone? Clothes? Keys? Had to get out. Needed basics. There’s the door. Can’t leave yet. Footsteps. Phone.

Logan grabbed his school bag, knowing it had a fair amount of necessary items and hurtled himself towards the door. He ran through the darkness, barely noticing the tears, he just ran and ran and ran. His mind barely processing anything other than his feet meeting the pavement. He just ran. Until he stopped. Vague recognition seeped into his clouded mind. He’d barely had time to breathe, his mind focusing on his feet again and forcing him to walk forwards. He couldn’t comprehend anything until he knocked on the door, and by some miracle, it opened.

A ruffled Patton in pyjama bottoms, a pale blue hoody and slightly tilted glasses stood before him, and in that moment more than ever, he looked like an angel. Logan collapsed onto him, crying, sobbing embarrassingly loud, but he didn’t care, and neither did Patton.

It had taken a while to feel safe again, except when he was with Patton. Patton had helped him so much; encouraged him to see a therapist, to find his aunt, to tell people. Without Patton, Logan wasn’t sure what would have happened, so now he needed to repay him.

Logan sighed, finally leaving with the supplies to see Patton with his head hung, sat on the sofa. Logan’s hands were no longer balled into fists, his knuckles no longer white, and his rage no longer uncontrollable. Instead he was overwhelmed by the urge to hug Patton closely to him, to convince him he was safe now and wrap a blanket around his shoulders. He wanted to return to Patton, what he had given him so long ago. He wanted Patton to feel heard and secure and that maybe things would be okay. Everything Patton had been so desperate to hide, Logan wanted it freed, because he knew the relief he’d feel. More than anything, he wanted Patton to be happy, because that man deserved the world.

Tentatively he stepped closer, voicelessly sitting next to his friend. The teacher winced as the smaller man beside him flinched, eyes wide and brimming with fear, he could practically hear his beating heart.

“Don’t worry Patton, it’s simply me.” He stated, wincing again, only this time at his own cold tone of voice. Logan had never been the best at emotions and feelings and allowing them to come across, but for Patton he’d try his best. He readjusted in his seat, turning in to face the smaller man, letting their knees graze gently together, hoping it would provide tentative comfort. Thankfully, it did, Patton recognised Logan’s attempts, smiling at him with sad, broken eyes. Logan’s heart broke even more.

“I um… I am deeply deeply sorry if my, earlier attitude, scared you. I just, I know I snapped, and that was so wrong of me. You’ve always been there for me Patton, I could never ask for a better friend… I just wish I could be the same for you, but evidently, I am… struggling.”

“Oh, Lo-“ Patton tried to comfort him, but Logan held up his hand, gently smiling.

“I will strive to be better, for you. As I said, you have always been there for me, so it is difficult seeing someone I care about so much hurt, as such it was difficult for me to, control my emotions. Still that’s no excuse for scaring you.”

“Logan,” Patton said, voice soft, almost fragile, but entirely sympathetic. “It’s okay, I-I’m fine, really it’s nothing. Nothing at all. Don-“

“Falsehood.” Logan interrupted, voice still calm and quite, yet warm. He didn’t need to say anything else, everything seeped out in the tone of his voice. It’s not okay. You’re not okay. But I can help. Logan held out a hand patiently. “May I?”

Patton’s eyes flickered from his friend’s face to his out stretched hand, before he cautiously, like a frightened animal, allowed his wrist to fall into the other’s large, slim hands. Logan’s long fingers curled around the wrist carefully, pulling it lightly towards his face so he could inspect it. He decided the best course of action would be to clean and then re-bandage the cuts, they were bad, but didn’t run deep enough to warrant expert medical help, though needed to be routinely cleaned to ensure they didn’t get infected.

At first, Patton had winced when the cold, wet cloth was pressed against his skin, it sent a sharp stinging sensation over his skin, Logan automatically drew away.

“I… I am sorry Patton, this will sting a bit but I’m afraid it must be done. I really am-“

“It’s fine Logan.” Patton interrupted, holding his arm out again. “Go on.”

Nodding, Logan placed the cloth back on the cuts, being very careful about cleaning them. After drying them, Logan began wrapping a bandage around his friend’s arm, his graceful slim fingers gliding around and precisely attending to the task. The process was then repeated on the other wrist, Patton watched in awe at the delicate process, and those fingers working with such precision and care seemed to capture him, he even almost forgot that deep feeling of guilt, disgust and fear that was writhing around in his stomach. It felt like death, like he was decaying from the inside and it was gradually consuming him all, eating up everything that was once him. He knew he had changed, and change isn’t a bad thing, of course he couldn’t be that bright-eyed and bold kid that he used to be, he’d grown up, but there was always still this childlike wonder in himself. Now, it felt like that had faded. He felt like so much had faded. So much so that he wasn’t sure who he was. It had become so difficult to look in a mirror.

Patton knew it wasn’t the first time, in fact, it had never been easy to look in a mirror, he’d always hated his appearance. Objectively, he wasn’t fat, but our minds seldom think objectively. He had short, stubby fingers, nothing like Logan’s long elegant ones. His legs were larger than Virgil’s thin ones. His chest was soft and he had a belly, unlike Roman’s toned chest and broad shoulders. His friends were all so beautiful, and he looked nothing like them. Though somehow, they had made him forget that, he had reached a point where he didn’t feel inadequate around them, and thought that maybe, if these people found him beautiful, then he could find himself beautiful too. What happened to that?

Patton looked up to his friends concentrated expression, his eyes fixed on his hands and a look of pure focus dancing in them, an unwilling smile crossed the smaller’s face. The feeling in his stomach became lighter, it wasn’t gone, not in the slightest, but it was an improvement. He missed Logan so much. He missed those late night talks that ranged from borderline insane to crying lightly into the others shoulder, feeling entirely protected and warm. He missed hearing that rare laugh Logan had, the one he’d always tried to hide but Patton adored. And of course he missed that begrudging smile he’d give after one of Patton’s finest dad jokes. Damn, Patton missed dad jokes. Mike hated dad jokes, so much more than Logan, so much more. Patton decided it wasn’t worth making them some time ago.

Logan didn’t need to say anything after he’d finished bandaging up his friend’s wrist, he just carefully opened his arms out, silently asking if the other wanted a hug. Instantly Patton fell into Logan’s arms, he felt them curl around him, the lean yet strong muscles shielding him from the outside world, he felt his heart rush and calm at the same time and he let a deep but shaky sigh. He allowed his own arms to wrap around Logan tightly, pulling them further together and burying his face in his friend’s neck. Logan moved slightly and lifted Patton’s legs so the other was comfortable and safe in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just held him, for a long while.

Eventually, Logan’s soft even voice broke through the silence, like the hum of the wind.

“Would you like to talk Patton? I understand it may not feel like it, but it is quite often beneficial for someone to talk about what is distressing them.”

Patton swallowed; did he really want to open up that wound?

He wasn’t even sure if he was justified, what he’d gone through wasn’t that bad, not really. Did he really have the right to paint Mike in such a light, if he really loved him? But, now he was questioning it, the warmth, the protection that Logan’s arms offered… he felt; safe. It had never felt like this with Mike. With Mike it had been uncomfortable, humid, suffocating, or even cold and overwhelmingly empty. When they were together, it wasn’t wrong, not when he was being kind. When they curled up together to watch movies, it was pleasant, nice, he had been content. Maybe at first he had felt his heart swell, felt the warmth he felt now, but this security, when he was curled into Logan, that seemed to surround him was so unlike anything he’d felt for a while. He’d missed this, missed Logan, so much. He wanted his best friend back. It made that question burn in the back of his mind, did he truly love Mike? Mike was a good person, he cared for Patton, so what if they had their ups and downs? Of course, of course Patton loved Mike, he had to, after everything… he’d done, he did for love, and that makes it okay, right? A sickness crawled from the very depth of his soul… but he’d done it for love, so that can’t be right! He tried pushing it down again but, like a snake, it crawled back up. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, because everything was fine, because he forgave Mike and he loved Mike and-

-and he was so lost. He was trying so desperate to find answers but every emotion just seemed to tangle into some unrecognisable, Gordian form. He looked up to Logan. Calm, collected, rational Logan. If anyone knew… If anyone could help Patton’s conflicted mind… it would be Logan. Logan, with those bright, dark brown eyes that shone with compassion and patience. His lips were a thin flat line yet those brilliant emotive eyes told Patton everything he needed to know.

Logan held his gaze, not pushing him or prompting him, which strengthened Patton’s resolve. The smaller nodded, breathing in deeply as he did.

Logan readjusted, allowing Patton to move out of his lap, he re-positioned himself in front of the shorter and instinctively grabbed his hands, gently enough that he wasn’t trapped by the grip but instead felt comforted. Patton smiled down at their carefully entwined hands, feeling a temporary warmth rush through him, before it was replaced with a flood of dread. He couldn’t help but holding on a little bit tighter, allowing the grip to stabilise him and give him strength.

He’d hidden this for so long, he wasn’t even sure what he was hiding anymore, or what might come tumbling out of his mouth when he found a place to begin at. He was determined, but he didn’t know where to start, because there had been no clear turning point, it was just a faded hazy mess that Patton had no idea what lead him here.

“Everything was fine… was good for… so long. I guess that, maybe, there were always little things but we all have our little things y’know? I’m far from perfect myself and our flaws are what make us, us, after all. And his flaws made Mike, Mike. And I loved him for them.” Patton rambled on, desperately trying to show, prove, to Logan the good in him. He was so lost trying to find the right words that he missed the flash of hurt that darted across his friend’s eyes, missed the way he tensed slightly and back straightened. It was only for the smallest second, then the impassive mask returned.

“But… he is very, insecure… he was, I don’t know threatened? By… by the amount of time I spent with you and Ro and Virgil. He um, he had a breakdown. He was so upset but embarrassed, I-it… it was my fault, and it hurt s-so much, but I just, I c-couldn’t put him through that again. I didn’t think it would be so bad, missing an hour or two of time with you all, but…” Patton breathed in deeply, allowing his voice to steady, Logan soothingly rubbed circles over shaking knuckles. “He got worse. He got more paranoid… more angry , just more-“ Patton cut himself off again, stumbling over his words, trying to make his jumbled thoughts coherent. “He’d always liked to drink, which is perfectly fine of course but, he suddenly became this different person. And then it started seeping into just, everything. He’d snap and yell and, and- I’d try to keep the peace. Do whatever he wanted – I even urged him to see a therapist once! But he’d just yell and say, horrible things. He didn’t mean it, it was the drink but… it still… hurt...” Patton admitted weakly, almost ashamed, like saying it out loud would make it more real. He waited the weight of the words to crash around him again.

Logan could feel a soft bubble of anger boiling; how could anyone hurt Patton? How dare anyone? But Patton didn’t need this right now, and after reminding himself of that, he easily swallowed back his quick temper and continued to soothe and listen. For Patton.

“B-but, after everything, he’d be so apologetic, kind… more, passionate…” Patton coughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t have to say this, he reminded himself. He didn’t have to tell Logan. But he wanted to.

“There were a, um, a couple of times, w-when after a fight…” He felt the words get stuck at the back of his throat, choking him. He tried breathing, but his eyes kept darting to his bedroom, then to the floor. Logan noticed. His face hardened. His anger burned, roared inside him, but he held it in. He told himself not to jump to conclusions, Patton could be looking for an escape, a place of comfort. Logan let his rage extinguish, before shifting closer to Patton, looking at him with patient eyes.

“He… didn’t like me saying no, to… to sex.” Patton cringed at putting it so bluntly but he had to know Logan was on the same page. “He’d just, keep pushing, until I gave up… gave in.” He practically coughed out, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories.

“I-“ Something cut him off, some sort of strangled, animal cry, that racked his body. He took a sharp, hissing intake of breath. All at once, he felt everything. The needy, unwanted hands crawling all over him. The hot breath against his neck. The cold sweat coating his body. The vile crawl up his throat. The feeling of shame heating his face. Another painful sob escaped him. He drew away from Logan, he couldn’t help it, hands were all over him, marking him, burning him.

Patton clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to squeeze his eyes shut even more, desperate to get the images out of his head. He’d done it for Mike, because he loved him, it was normal to want to prove it. If Mike needed Patton to prove it then he would, and that was okay. If he needed him to be good, then he would, he could make the sounds for him and pretend he was okay, pretend everything didn’t feel so, so wrong. If it meant that much, if saying no wasn’t accepted, then it must be important for him. He knew he would only be mad if he said no. But it was fine. He could do as he was told.

Hands, hands were on him again. They burnt. Reflexively he tensed, freezing up entirely.

“Patton,” Soft, calm caring. Not breathy, not needy, not demanding. “Patton, please look at me.”

He complied, fearfully, only to remember those hands were Logan’s, something somewhere felt lighter.

“I cannot begin to understand what you are going through. Know that everything you’re feeling, is exactly what you should be feeling, do not feel guilty.”

Patton nodded hesitantly, a sudden burst of memories surrounding his brain again.

The demands came flooding back. The feeling of helplessness surrounded him, paralysed him. He couldn’t breathe again. He tried biting back a sob, but instead gave in. He let the sobs crash over his body and tears cascade down his face.

What must Logan think? To know what you’ve done… he probably doesn’t want to be around you. Mike was right about you; just a whore. He was right. He was right. He was right.

“Patton.” Logan’s voice again. Patton wasn’t sure when he’d cupped his hands over his ears, or curled his knees into himself, or began muttering and rocking back and force, but when he looked up at Logan through his fringe with glistening, terrified eyes, he realised it all at once.

“Patton, I’m not – I could never think any less of you. No matter what. Least of all for that okay?”

“O-okay.” Patton gulped in the humid air, nodding quickly, the movement making his brain hurt.

“I know this is difficult Patton bu-“

“I-I’m fine. No.. I’m fine, I’m fine, I-“

“Stop. You are not fine. And it’s okay to admit that.” The smaller considered it, heart heavy and tears still streaming down his face, his thoughts were swimming through mess and memories. He opened his mouth, but it was dry, and his throat was hoarse. The words were painful, they were lies, and they burnt.

Eventually, Patton breathed out. The hands were still there, they were threatening, hovering over him, but they weren’t on him. But they could be, at any moment, he was exposed and vulnerable and so so tired. He shook his head, feeling his fight drain out of him and letting his body collapse into Logan. He buried his face into the teachers neck, desperate to feel safety again, tugging at any remnants of protection he could. Logan wrapped his arms around the small, shivering form, protecting him from the hands. Protecting him from the world, and his thoughts, and everything.

“I’m not fine.”

-----

Note: Thanks everyone reading this for the support on this story, honestly I didn’t expect anyone to read this at all! Your comments and likes mean the world to me :)

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#thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #alternate universe #sander sides au #logicality #...ish #eventually #fanfiction #sanders sides fic #prinxiety #sanders sides #highschool au #tw; abusive relationship #tw; abuse #he's hurting me

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atc74 · 7 years

Text

Stronger Than Me

Written for the amazingly talented @ilostmyshoe-79 and her 27K Sweet Emotions Challenge and my dear friend, @mamaredd123 and her 2K 100 Quotes of Supernatural Challenge. My emotion is PRIDE and my quote is “Wanna try that again like you mean it.”

This is also my contribution for RPF Appreciation Day 2017.

A/N: I would like to give a shout out to my girl Liz, @charliebradbury1104, for her help with the medical stuff, and for reasons (Liz) I choose Felicia x Jensen. This is an AU. Also, thank you to my bestie, @just-another-busy-fangirl, for being the best beta ever.

A/N 2: I have a couple of friends that are going through a difficult time right now and needed some fluff to cheer them up. This fic was inspired by their stories. I am really proud of how this turned out and I am grateful to them for sharing their story with me so I could write this. I hope you guys like it.

Pairing: Single Parent!Felicia Day x Nurse!Jensen Ackles, AU

Word Count: 7680

Warnings: Medical jargon, mentions of pregnancy, death, disease, angst and a shit ton of fluff, I hope. Oh, and Nurse!Jensen - definitely a warning.

Summary: Felicia is a single parent that has been busting her butt off for years to put herself through school to be an Occupational Therapist and provide for her son. When she falls ill, the hot nurse isn’t exactly what she expected, but maybe he is what she needed.

Felicia was working her way through her occupational therapy patients quickly. They all were progressing better than she had expected. Although young at only twenty-four years old, she had busted her butt to get to where she was, proud of herself and her patients.

As circumstance would have it, she got pregnant at seventeen. Her highschool sweetheart freaked out and was leaving for college the following week. Felicia’s parents had been none too happy, but she was their blood and so was the baby and she was grateful for the support system she had.

Felicia took a year off of school during her pregnancy and stayed home with her infant son, Henry James. Born a few weeks early in the middle of March, she was able to spend an entire spring and summer just being a mom and it was the best job she would ever have.

Being a single mom and going to school full time was no easy task and it took it’s toll on Felicia, but she did it. She graduated near the top of her class and had secured a job before graduation at the clinic where she had been working during her senior year as an assistant. Felicia’s career was fulfilling and she was satisfied with her life. She was making enough money to put more than the minimum toward her student loans and get a bigger, better place for Henry and herself.

Felicia specialized in working with children that experience developmental delays, whatever the cause. She spent her days teaching them how to use crayons, tie their shoes and take care of themselves. It was a challenge but she couldn’t imagine changing career paths.

~*~

“Felicia! Felicia, can you hear me?!” She heard her co-worker, Megan, call out, but it was distant, like she was in a tunnel. Slowly, Felicia’s eyes fluttered open and she was met with Megan’s kind face, filled with worry.

“What? Why are you yelling?” Felicia mumbled, pain radiating throughout her body and she moaned in discomfort.

“Felicia, do you know what happened? Do you know why you are on the floor?” she inquired, her voice filled with concern.

“Megan, why am I on the floor?” Felicia turned her head and saw two feet pointed in her direction.

“Honey, I think you had a seizure. Don’t move, the ambulance is on it’s way,” Megan spoke calmly, like all of the OT’s were trained to do with patients, only Felicia was not usually a patient.

“How? I was just working with Amelia and she was writing her numbers…” Her voice trailed off and she remembered falling, but not why. All she could think was not again.

~*~

“Miss? Can you tell me your name please?” Felicia heard the emergency room doctor ask.

“Felicia Day,” she responded.

“Good. Do you know what day it is Felicia?” he asked.

“Yes, it is Thursday,” she told him.

“Excellent. You are doing very well, Felicia. We are going to run some tests and keep you overnight for observation. According to your co-worker you had a seizure, so we want to figure out why. Is there anyone we can call for you?” the doctor inquired.

“Um, yeah, my parents,” Felicia replied, her throat dry and mind reeling that she had had a seizure.

“They are already in the waiting room; I will let them know what is going on and send them in.” He gave her a kind smile, then turned and left.

“Oh honey! I was so worried! They wouldn’t tell us anything!” Felicia’s mother pushed through the door to the room where she was laid out in the bed.

“I’m okay, Mom. Really, I feel fine, but they want to keep me overnight.” Felicia groaned at the thought of being away from her son for the night.

“Oh Baby, Henry is going to be just fine. Sheila already picked him up and he is excited to have a sleepover at her house,” Felicia’s father reassured her. Henry really did love their neighbor Sheila and her two boys, who were around his age. Felicia felt a little better knowing he would at least have fun while she was away.

“Excuse me, Miss Day? I am Ana and I am here to take you upstairs for an CT scan. Are you ready?” a nurse asked sweetly as she came in the room.

“As I’ll ever be. Mom, please kiss Henry goodnight for me, tell him I love him and I will call him in the morning, okay?” Felicia asked her mother as Ana started unhooking her from the wires for transfer to a wheelchair.

“Of course I will, now get some rest; I’ll be back in the morning.” Her mother kissed her on the temple and was gone.

~*~

The CT scan took longer than Felicia had expected and it wasn’t until after ten at night when she was wheeled back into her room. Ana helped Felicia out of the chair and into an ugly gown, then into the bathroom where a toothbrush and toothpaste were waiting. Felicia took care of her business and wiped her hands on the scratchy towels that smelled like bleach.

“Ana, I am kinda hungry; I didn’t get any dinner,” she hinted at her, hoping she could sneak something in.

“Sure, I will see what I can find, I will be back in a bit,” Ana told Felicia, assisting her into bed before she left the room.

Felicia mindlessly flipped through the crappy channels on the too small television screen and sighed because there was nothing on. A knock sounded at the door before it swung open.

“Oh good, you’re still awake. Hi, Miss Day, my name is Jensen and I will be your overnight nurse.” The voice was deep and rolled over Felicia like a soft summer rain.

“Felicia. My name is Felicia and you’re a nurse?” she gasped, assuming he was a doctor. He was quite attractive in his navy blue scrubs.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I get that a lot. Ana mentioned you were hungry so I brought you a snack.” He moved the tray over the bed and laid out some jello, a banana and a piece of string cheese.

“Thank you, Jensen,” Felicia said as she peeled the banana and took a bite. She was so hungry now, that it didn’t matter what she ate, anything would taste good.

“They didn’t get all your personal history before you were moved from the ER, so I have a few questions for you, if that is alright?” he asked politely while she finished the banana and simply grunted a reply.

“Okay then,” he laughed again. His questions were pretty mundane and Felicia answered quickly. “Have you ever experienced a seizure before today?”

“When I was eighteen, six years ago. I was thirty-seven weeks pregnant. They diagnosed me with strep and explained that the seizure was caused by the high fever. They performed a cesarean to take Henry early so they could treat me without harming him,” she explained to the nurse.

“Henry, that is a strong, solid name. I will be right back, I have to check on a couple other patients, okay?” he informed her and stepped out into the hallway, but not before Felicia noticed his brows knit in confusion.

~*~

Jensen pulled up Felicia’s records once he returned to the nurse’s station; something didn’t make sense. He saw the admittance for the seizure, but her temperature had been recorded at 101.3 degrees, certainly not high enough to induce a seizure, but consistent with a streptococcal diagnosis. Curiosity unbecoming of a medical professional got the better of him and he also pulled Felicia’s son’s birth records; no father was listed on the birth certificate.

Jensen quickly checked on his other patients before making his way back to her room. “You’re still awake,” he commented quietly, the door still open.

“Yeah, I guess. I can’t seem to get comfortable,” Felicia groaned as each position she tried was painful.

“Yeah, that happens when you hit the floor pretty hard, like you did. I can get you something mild for the pain if you want it,” he offered.

“That would be good, thank you.” Jensen returned minutes later with a pill and a fresh pitcher of water so she could swallow it. He showed her where the call buttons were and said he would be back to check on her in a couple of hours. Within twenty minutes, Felicia was out like a light.

~*~

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty awakes!” Jensen proclaimed as he entered her room with a tray at six the next morning.

“Ha, very funny Nurse Jensen,” Felicia quipped, in a better mood thanks to a good night’s sleep.

“And she does have a sense of humor! Not a great one, but it is there,” he joked as he set the tray down in front of her. Watery scrambled eggs, overcooked bacon and a dry english muffin never looked so good.

“Thank you for breakfast,” she smiled at him taking a sip of juice.

“You thank me like it’s a date or something; I am just doing my job, Felicia,” Jensen replied, a slight blush creeping up his freckled cheeks.

“Well, maybe one day…” Felicia swallowed down her words with another bite of eggs.

“So, I am on my way out, and hopefully I won’t see you again,” he said as he made some notes in her chart.

“Sick of me already, Jensen?” she teased.

“Oh quite the contrary, but I try not to pick up chicks at work,” Jensen told her and quickly changed the subject. “You have an MRI in an hour, but before that, I am going to hook you up to the EEG, electroencephalogram; it is going to read your brain cell activity, smarty pants, so we can see what is going on in that pretty red head of yours.”

“Oh, so you have a thing for redheads, huh?” Felicia wasn’t always such a flirt, but she was in the hospital with no escape, so why not.

“Maybe, but you are still my patient,” Jensen teasingly scolded her while he attached wires to her head.

“Michelle will be here at seven to take you upstairs for the MRI and then the Doc will come back into go over the test results with you, okay? I won’t be back until eleven tonight but you will be back home with your boy, so good luck with everything, Felicia.” Jensen paused.

“Bye Jensen, and thanks again for the breakfast date.” She smiled at him as he left the room and she finished her juice.

~*~

“Epilepsy? How can that be? I am a perfectly healthy twenty-four year old mother with a very active six year old at home,” Felicia protested as the doctor sat down, giving her the results of the MRI. Felicia’s parents sat on the other side of the bed and the tears in her mother’s eyes started falling.

“We want to keep you another night, run some more tests, make sure there isn’t any permanent damage. I am going to prescribe you an anti-seizure medication and that should control them; if it doesn’t, we keep going until we find one that does. I am concerned because this is the second time you have been in here in less than a year,” the doctor suggested and she turned to her parents.

“I am sorry, I should have told you,” Felicia started. “It was when you took Henry to Disney World. I didn’t want to tell you, because I felt fine; I do feel fine.”

“Oh honey; you need to take better care of yourself to make sure you are healthy for Henry,” her father said as he laid a hand on her knee and she felt the tears fall.

“I need to talk to him,” Felicia decided. The doctor left the room and she picked up her phone to call Sheila. After a few minutes on the phone with her, Felicia asked her to put Henry on.

“Hey Buddy! Are you being good for Sheila?” you asked, knowing he was better for everyone else than he was for you.

“I will be home tomorrow. I had to go visit a sick friend out of town, okay? But I love you, Henry. And you be good, okay? … Yes, I will come pick you up tomorrow as soon as I get back… I love you, okay, bye, Baby.” Felicia’s tears continued to flow as she disconnected the phone, but she managed to keep her voice calm, for herson.

“Hey, Mom, can you grab some things for me? I need pajamas and a change of clothes. I need a shower. My overnight bag is in the hall closet,” Felicia asked and wiped her face.

“Of course honey. I will be back in a little bit,” her mother said and they were gone again before lunch.

Megan had given the EMTs Felicia’s purse, so at least she had a charger with her. She plugged in the phone and began playing pointless games to keep her mind occupied.

~*~

By mid-afternoon, Felicia was showered and felt human again. She had on her comfiest pair of pajamas with a book in her lap. Ana, the nurse from yesterday, was back and had brought you an extra blanket, as the room had been a little on the cool side.

Felicia had undergone more blood tests and a set of neurological tests in the afternoon. The doctor had confirmed they believed she had experienced a clonic seizure, possibly more than the two she knew about. It would explain her sore muscles and neck, not to mention the bruises on her arms.

Dinner was rather tasteless and lonely as she spent time quality time with the crappy television. Felicia was wound up and knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, so she slipped on her sandals and started walking. She snuck down to the nursery, gazing at the sleeping babies that had just been brought into this world. Felicia longed to have another baby someday, but maybe it wasn’t in the cards for her, maybe Henry was it.

Felicia walked a little farther down the hall to the elevator. She glanced around quickly and figured she wouldn’t be missed and hopped in the next car. She peeked at her phone and figured she had a couple hours before the nurse’s shift change.

Felicia found herself wandering the main floor when she happened upon the still open cafeteria. Thankful she had the forethought to toss some cash in her pocket, she grabbed a muffin and a cup of tea, then made her way out to the courtyard. The night was still pleasant and she was comfortable. Felicia sat down on the empty bench and sipped at her tea.

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Henry was at the top of them all. Since the day she discovered she was pregnant, he consumed every waking thought and most of the non-waking ones. After working with patients everyday, she counted herself lucky that Henry was healthy and now here she was, in the hospital for the second time in six months. How do you tell your six year old son that you were sick?

“Excuse me, Miss? Is this seat taken?” A deep voice washed over Felicia and she looked up.

“Jensen, what are you doing here?” Felicia gasped, shocked to see him here and embarrassed that she had been caught out of bed.

“My shift starts in an hour and I came to see my brother and his family; they just had a new baby, a little girl. I stopped to get a cup of coffee and I saw you out here. There are not many redheads that would be sitting out here in purple flannel pajamas, so I guessed it was you. You okay? You look…” his voice trailed off and she could tell he was looking for the least offensive word.

“Lost? Confused? Angry? Take your pick,” she huffed.

“Yeah, one of those. You want to talk about it? I have been told I am a pretty good listener,” he offered.

“You’re my nurse, Jensen, not my therapist. You don’t need to listen to the ramblings of an angry woman,” Felicia replied.

“Hey, just because I am your nurse, doesn’t mean I can’t listen. Part of what we do isn’t just physical care, Red; we offer emotional support as well. I am here to listen if you decide you want to talk,” he finished and just sat there next to her, drinking his coffee while she sipped the cooling tea.

“Maybe I do,” Felicia thought aloud. “I have spent the last six years busting my ass to put myself through school, raise my son, and I am doing a damn good job. I have a great career doing something I love. I get to help people and they pay me really well to do that. I will be able to buy our own house in less than a year; I already started looking,” she confessed to him, basically a complete stranger.

“Then I get slapped in the face with this! What was the point of busting my ass if it is all going to be taken away from me?” her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands, her breathing became rapid.

Felicia felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but this is not a death sentence. Epilepsy can be controlled with proper medication. If you can keep it controlled, you can stop taking the medicine,” Jensen whispered calmly and she started breathing normally again, matching her breaths with his.

“I only just found out this morning, how do you know? You weren’t even here,” Felicia looked up as she questioned him.

“I may have logged in the system when I got here early and checked up on you...saw your diagnosis and that you weren’t discharged yet,” he admitted sheepishly. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room,” Jensen offered his hand as he rose to his feet and she took it. He lead the way back inside and held the door for her.

“Head on up to your room; I have to get changed and I will see you in a few, okay?” Jensen asked.

“Yeah. And Jensen?” Felicia held tight to his hand. “Thanks for tonight.”

“It’s like our second date. And you are very welcome.” Jensen smiled at her, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. Felicia hadn’t noticed how green they were in the dim light of her hospital room, but here in the brightly lit atrium, they shone like emeralds.

“You’re gonna have to step up your game if you think you are getting a third date, Mister,” Felicia teased as she laughed and headed for the elevator, feeling better than before, all because of him.

Once she’d gotten in her room undetected, she climbed back into bed, sitting cross legged and waiting for Jensen to return. Felicia thumbed through her phone for a few minutes but found herself distracted. If this were any other situation and he were any other guy, she would be totally attracted to him. In reality, she was attracted to him, but this is no ordinary situation. Felicia was in the hospital and she was his patient. She had more important things to worry about than the fact that she had not been on a date since before she got pregnant.

Felicia gazed out the window at the night sky, the city lights disrupting the stars from shining through; no wishing on a star for her tonight. Felicia sighed and closed her eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl,” Jensen’s voice broke through her melancholy and she turned to face him.

“Not much going on up here, probably not worth the penny. Save it,” Felicia mumbled, wiping the tears she knew had fallen.

“Hey, what did I tell you? Everything is going to be okay,” he whispered as he sat on the end of the bed. “Tell me about Henry.”

He was good, she had to give him that. Felicia didn’t really feel like talking, but then he asked her to talk about her one weakness. “He is amazing. He is six. He plays soccer and baseball. He is smart, already reading at a 3rd grade level and he just finished kindergarten.”

“Sounds like a smarty pants, just like his Mama,” Jensen joked, poking her in the knee.

“Yeah, he is. It is the curse of all parents: ‘I hope when you grow up and become a parent, your kid turns out just like you!’. But I couldn’t be luckier. He loves unconditionally and is fiercely loyal,” Felicia finished, a sappy smile creeping it’s way over her delicate features.

“He sounds like a great kid, Felicia,” Jensen spoke truthfully, she could see it on his face.

“He really is, and I miss him,” she sniffed a little, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“So, is he with his dad?” Jensen inquired.

“Oh, no, he left a long time ago,” Felicia laughed. “I told him I was pregnant and he ran off to college. He never even got to meet Henry. He was drunk one night and drove his car off a bluff, right into the river.”

“I am sorry, I-I didn’t know,” Jensen apologized.

“It’s okay, Jen,” she whispered. “I made my peace with him not wanting to be a part of my life or Henry’s a long time ago. And he has strong male role models in my dad and my cousin, so I know he will be okay. But…”

“But nothing, Red. I know what you are going to say. You are going to be just fine and Henry is going to be just fine. This is just a bump in the road. I-” Jensen attempted to console her.

“Red, huh?” Felicia interrupted.

“Jen, huh?” he retorted. “I like it.”

“Yeah, I like it, too. Say, don’t you have other patients, Mr. Too Good To Be True?” She eyed him.

“It’s almost midnight and they are all asleep. I don’t have to do rounds for another couple of hours. You sick of me already?” he joked again, this time wrapping his arm around her neck in a fake headlock.

“You know you are the only thing keeping me sane, so no, and I don’t think I ever will be,” Felicia whispered as she looked up into his eyes.

“I thought you said I had to step up my game to get a third date?” he recalled.

“Yeah, well, I’m weak, what can I say?” she shrugged.

“You are not weak, Red. I have only known you for twenty-four hours and you are the strongest person I have ever met, far stronger than me. You are brave and kind and loving. I am proud of you. You got this,” Jensen whispered as he pulled her close once more.

“Yeah, I got this,” Felicia mumbled.

“Hey, wanna try that again like you mean it?” he challenged her.

“Yeah, I got this!” she repeated, louder this time.

“Let me hear it again,” he prompted one more time.

Felicia threw her hands in the air and shouted, “I got this!”

Jensen quickly put his large hand over her mouth, “Hey not that loud; this is a hospital and people are sleeping!”

“Oops,” Felicia grinned sheepishly, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Hey, let’s get you to bed. It is late and I will be back in the morning, okay?” Jensen pulled the covers back and she crawled in. “Goodnight, Red. Sleep tight,” he whispered before kissing her temple.

“G’night Jen,” she mumbled, already drifting off. He closed the door behind him, allowing his body a rest as he sagged against the frame. What are you doing? he thought to himself.

~*~

The morning light filtered in through the thin shades on the window. Felicia slowly woke and stretched her body out, feeling a little sore but rested. She peeked one eye open against the bright sunlight and a squeak left her lips.

“You have freckles; they’re cute. And you talk in your sleep, did you know that?” Jensen spoke quietly.

“I-what? How long have you been here? And creep much?” Felicia laughed throwing her legs over the side to go into the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth.

“I have only been here about ten minutes. But long enough to hear you say my name,” Jensen spoke a little louder so she could hear him through the door.

Felicia finished her business, ran a brush through her long auburn locks before she opened the door to dispute what he thought he heard. “No, I sir, I don’t think so. I was clearly having an awesome girls night dream with my friend Jennifer.”

“Really? You know you are a terrible liar, Red?” Jensen laughed. “You didn’t say ‘Jen’ you said ‘Jensen’, my name. My name.”

Felicia almost choked on her toothpaste. “No I did not!” she denied.

“You were dreaming about me, weren’t you? You like me!” Jensen teased.

“So what if I was! Have you seen you?” she asked. “And besides, I go home today, so I won’t see you anymore, only in my dreams.”

“That is the good news; you’re going home today.” He grinned. “You want to know the other good news?”

“Yes! I could use some more good news,” Felicia replied.

“As of ten o’clock this morning, you are no longer my patient. So are you going to give me your number so I don’t have to hack hospital records for your personal information and lose my job?” he nagged her.

“What, you planning our fourth date already?” Felicia giggled.

“No, fifth. I am pretty sure this is our fourth date,” he said.

“Oh, so watching me sleep counts as a date now?” she clucked.

“No, but me bringing you breakfast does.” He pulled a warm tray from the bed table and presented her with french toast and fruit.

“A man after my own heart,” she sighed.

“So is that a yes? To your number and date number five?” Jensen pleaded.

“Don’t beg, Jen; it’s unbecoming,” she scribbled her number on a piece of paper and stuffed it in the pocket of his scrubs.

“I have my work cut out for me now. How am I going to top this?” Jensen wondered.

“Well, as long as it is not in this hospital, you have a pretty good chance.” Felicia laughed and started on her breakfast.

~*~

Felicia struggled when she returned home. She took a hot shower before going to get Henry, but broke down in the middle of washing herself. The fear was closing in on her and she knew she had to fight it. After crying on the floor of her shower for half an hour, she forced herself up and got out.

Henry shrieked when she picked him up from Sheila’s and Felicia echoed his excitement to see her. It felt good to be home with her little boy. Sheila handed off his bag as she gave you a sympathetic eye.

“Sheila, I am fine. Thank you for keeping him safe for me. I will see you tomorrow?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah, anytime, Felicia,” Sheila assured her.

Felicia made Henry’s favorite homemade mac and cheese for dinner, then the two of them vegged out in front of the television watching mindless Disney Channel Original Movies, but at least she was home and with her son. Felicia looked over as her phone started buzzing. It was a text from Jensen.

“Hey Red. How does Monday at seven sound? You like Mexican?

“Hey yourself, Jen. No, I prefer Italian, with extra garlic; I want our first kiss to be memorable!”

“You already thought about our first kiss?”

“That is what I was dreaming about when you were creeping on me in my sleep ;)”

“I guess I better bring my A game. Send me your address and I will pick you up.”

“See you then.”

Felicia sent Jensen her address and signed off, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

~*~

Felicia and Henry had a lazy Sunday around their apartment. It was her favorite way to spend time with him. There was nowhere either of them needed to be, nothing pressing to do; it was just her and her favorite little man hanging out.

As happy as she was, she couldn’t stop the thoughts that rolled through her mind continuously. Felicia was angry, despite what Jensen had told her out on that bench at the hospital. She was worried, scared even. The fear gripped her tight and refused to let go. As soon as she had Henry in bed that night, she crawled under her own covers and cried; wept like she hadn’t before. Felicia let every emotion flow out of her. She hadn’t felt this empty since Henry’s father left, then a few months later, when he died. This was worse. Her fears of something happening to her and Henry becoming an orphan were paralyzing and all she could do was weep.

~*~

Monday morning Felicia dropped Henry off at daycare as normal, but didn’t go into work. Her boss had called the night before and told her to take some time. She went back home and crawled back into bed. Felicia wallowed in self-pity and terrible reality television.

What am I doing? This is pointless! I have to pull myself together. I got this! She was not going to let this be what brought her down. She pulled out her phone and called her doctor. Felicia needed to talk to someone and knew it started now.

After she made the first appointment, she called Sheila and asked her to watch Henry for the night before running a bath. Felicia pampered herself because she finally had the time and she had a date. That was cause for shaving her legs, not that she was going to let things go that far, but she finally had the perfect occasion to wear that pretty purple dress she found on clearance a couple months ago.

Felicia carefully straightened her hair and pulled it back into a low pony. Her makeup was light, with a dark pink stain on her lips, and then she was ready to get dressed. The silken fabric of the dress slipped over her curves perfectly and hit just above the knee. She slid her feet into the white wedge sandals and checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked pretty good, not that she was one to toot her own horn.

Just as Felicia grabbed her clutch, a knock sounded at the door. Out of habit, she checked the peephole and her breath caught in her throat. If she thought he was handsome before, the man that stood on the other side of her door was absolutely breathtaking. He wore a dark gray button down and looked as nervous as she felt. Felicia took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“You look stunning,” Jensen breathed out, his green eyes taking in all of her.

“Thank you. It is amazing what not eating hospital food for two days can do to a girl,” she laughed. Felicia grabbed her keys and locked up.

“I hardly think it’s the food,” Jensen murmured, holding his arm out for her, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, his wrapped warmly over hers.

~*~

“Jen, this place is amazing!” Felicia marveled. The two of them had just placed their order and she took a moment to look around the restaurant. The dark walls and delicate sconces provided just the right amount of lighting as they cast a warm glow over their corner table.

“I am glad you like it. I have been coming here for years with my family, but this is the first time I have even been here on a date,” Jensen told her.

“Oh, so I am your first, huh?” Felicia giggled, taking a sip of her sparkling water.

“Ha, very funny Red.” Jensen rolled his eyes.

“So tell me something about yourself Jen. I feel like you know so much about me; I mean I totally monopolized conversation on those first four dates!” Felicia said.

“Yeah, yeah you did, but that is fine by me. My story isn’t nearly as interesting as yours,” he replied.

“Ugh, I am not interesting. I am boring as hell. All I do is work and parent. This is the first date I have been on since before Henry,” she admitted.

“Oh, so I am your first, huh?” Jensen echoed her earlier jest and she rolled her eyes in response.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Jensen gave in. “I’m twenty-seven. I have been working at the hospital the last four years, since I graduated. I always thought that I would complete the Physician’s Assistant program, but I don’t know; I like the ease of the nursing gig. I don’t have to be the one in charge and it allows me more opportunity to help my patients on a more personal level.”

“You’re a good person, Jen; look how much you helped me in just a couple of days,” Felicia remarked.

“I always knew I wanted to help people, but I didn’t want to be in a ton of debt to do it like a few of my friends. I knew as a nurse, I could help just as many people,” he beamed. She could see in his eyes how much he loved his job.

“Do you have any siblings?” she coaxed.

“Yeah, I have a brother and a sister. They are gigantic pains in my ass, but I love them,” he laughed. “I grew up here, just outside of Dallas, and we were close growing up, even though my sister is several years younger.”

“I don’t have any siblings, but I am really close to a couple of my cousins, so I imagine it is the same,” Felicia remarked.

Their meals arrived and they made idle chat as they ate and the plates were cleared away. It was starting to get late and Felicia couldn’t remember ever having so much fun in her life; she didn’t want the night to be over just yet. Jensen stood and reached for her hand and she made the decision to relay her thoughts to him.

Jensen beat her to it. “I am not ready for this night to end, care to join me for some dessert? I know this great little place.”

“I was just about to say the same thing!” Felicia exclaimed.

“Well, great minds do think alike. Milady?” Jensen placed her hand on his arm and didn’t waste another minute.

~*~

The next two weeks flew by like a whirlwind. Felicia went back to work and spent as much time with Henry as you possible, between baseball and work. She even managed to sneak in some time with Jensen, too, even if it was just for coffee before she headed into work and he was going home.

“I know you are off this weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with us on Sunday?” Felicia hesitantly asked Jensen one morning over coffee. Although she had given it some thought over the last couple of weeks and it scared the heck out of her, she really wanted Jensen and Henry to meet. They were two of the most important men in her life, after her dad.

“Are you kidding? I would love to!” he exclaimed and put her mind at rest.

“Oh, that is a relief. I was thinking just a picnic in the park by our place. Is that okay with you?” Felicia held her breath.

“Yes! That sounds awesome. What can I bring?” Jensen offered.

“How about dessert? And we are pretty easy to please and no allergies,” she told him.

“Fantastic!” he replied enthusiastically and she could already see the gears turning in his head. “I will pick you guys up at eleven.”

~*~

Jensen arrived on time and Felicia opened the door to let him in. He placed a chaste kiss to her cheek as she greeted him.

“Henry!” Felicia called and he came bounding into the room.

“Henry, this is my friend, Jensen, that I told you about. Jensen, this is my son, Henry,” she introduced them.

“Hi,” Henry greeted this stranger cautiously, standing in front of his mother.

“Hi, Henry. It is nice to meet you. Your mom has told me a lot about you, so I know you like soccer and baseball, right?” Jensen knelt down and shook Henry’s hand as he talked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Henry shrugged.

“Well, I just happened to have brought my glove and bat, along with some baseballs with me, as well as my best soccer ball. What’d’ya say we get to the park and you show me what you got?” Jensen encouraged the boy, trying to bring him out of his shell a bit.

“Oh, I got mad skills.” Henry’s eyes lit up at thought of playing any kind of ball. “Let me get my stuff!” Henry ran off to his room and emerged with his bag and an extra soccer ball. “I’m ready!”

The drive to the park was quick and as Felicia reached in for the picnic basket, Jensen and Henry were already kicking the ball around. She laid out a blanket under the shade of nearby tree and watched them. She was relieved to see how quickly Henry took to Jensen, as he was generally protective of her around people he didn’t know. Felicia’s heart swelled at the sight.

It was a little warm, but that didn’t surprise Felicia much, as it was summer in Texas, but it was a beautiful day to spend outside with a couple of her favorite guys. Henry had Jensen running all over the park, chasing the baseballs he hit and soon Jensen collapsed next to Felicia, begging for water.

“How do you do this? He has so much energy!” Jensen got out between breaths.

Felicia laughed. “I don’t pay baseball with him anymore; it’s too much!” She handed him a bottle of water and called Henry over for lunch.

~*~

Three months had passed since Felicia’s last seizure. The medication seemed to be doing it’s job and she was pleased with the direction her relationship with Jensen was going, as well as how well he got on with Henry. It eased any tension as the three of them spent an increasing amount of time together as of late.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Jensen asked one night. He typically called before his shifts as Felicia was settling in bed for the night.

“Yeah, shoot,” she replied, snuggling into the covers.

“I want to sign up to coach for Henry’s soccer team this year, but I wanted to ask you first, before I sent in my application. And I want to talk to him about it too, make sure he is okay with it,” Jensen blurted out.

“I think that is a great idea and I think he will love it. Why don’t you come by for breakfast tomorrow and you can ask him yourself,” Felicia offered. She didn’t have to work the next day and Henry had the day off of school.

“You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that,” Jensen let out a long breath. “I will see you in the morning, Red. Sweet dreams.”

“G’night Jen,” she yawned and feel fast asleep.

The next morning, Felicia pulled out all the stops for breakfast: chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage. Jensen was right on time and he greeted her with a deep kiss.

“Hmmm, yum; you taste like coffee and bacon,” he murmured against her lips.

“A few of your favorite things, huh?” Felicia giggled, kissing him once more before handing him his own mug.

“I wanted to tell you something else, too, before Henry got up,” Jensen sat down.

“Sure, what’s up?” she replied, joining him at the table.

“I turned in my notice at the hospital,” Jensen began.

“You what? But you love your job...” Felicia broke in.

“Hold on, hold on; let me finish,” he held his hand up for her to stop. Felicia snapped her mouth closed, waiting for the rest of his news.

“The hospital opened a new clinic and they were looking for a nursing manager, so I applied. The hours are better, no more night shifts, the pay is fantastic, and it will free up my time to spend more of it with you and Henry, and be able to coach,” Jensen finished.

Felicia jumped up and moved across to his side of the table, throwing her arms around his neck. “Jen, this is fantastic! Henry is going to be so happy!”

“Oh, is he the only one?” Jensen teased.

“Well, I can live with it,” Felicia sassed back.

“Can you guys keep it down?” Henry grumbled, shuffling into the kitchen, eyes still closed.

“Good Morning Henry!” Jensen shouted. “Come on, sit down. Your mom made some amazing breakfast, but first I have something I want to ask you.”

“So loud,” Henry moaned, sitting down at the table with a thud as his head his the hard surface.

“Hey Champ, how would you like me to coach your soccer team this year?” Jensen asked and Henry’s head shot up, his eyes wide.

“Are you serious?! That would be awesome!” Henry jumped up and threw his arms around Jensen. He in turn picked up the boy and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Felicia’s legs carried her to them before she knew it and Jensen wrapped one arm around her, too.

~*~

“I can’t think of a better way to wrap up a winning season!” Jensen exclaimed. Henry’s team had won the championship and now the entire soccer team was gathered in Jensen’s yard running around like little crazy people.

“It was a pretty great season, Coach!” Felicia replied, bringing out a couple bags of chips, adding them to the table already overflowing with food.

“Yeah, it was. Thank you for letting me a part of this, a part of your life,” Jensen kissed her quickly, not wanting to be caught by a bunch of first graders.

The party progressed well and before you knew it, Henry was begging to stay at his friend’s house and Felicia couldn’t say no.

“Good, it will give us some much needed alone time,” Jensen teased as she left to walk Henry to his friend’s parents car later.

“In your dreams, Nurse Ackles!” Felicia giggled, knowing the best part of her day was yet to come.

She walked back inside Jensen’s house, ready to start dishes and clean up from the party, but the sight before her was more than she could have possibly prepared herself for. Jensen was on one knee in the middle of his kitchen, a small box in his hand.

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long and some might say this is too fast, but we had our first four dates in two days. I have never met a woman like you before; you are strong, and brave. You are an amazing mother and the most generous person I have ever known. I never knew I could experience a life like this and to have that with you, astounds me. I am in awe of you daily and I am so damn proud of you. Would you please make me the proudest man on the planet and agree to marry me?” He poured out his heart to her.

The tears in her eyes and the lump in her throat made it impossible for Felicia to speak, so all she could do was nod and he slipped the ring on her finger.

~*~

“Boys, I’m home!” Felicia called as she walked in the door setting the bags down. The house was quiet; too quiet. She walked out the back door to see her husband and Henry kicking around the ball. Jensen was still coaching Henry’s nine-year old team and they having a blast and another great season. Felicia sat down and watched her boys as they played.

“Hey, I didn’t see you there! When did you get home?” Jensen asked a few minutes later when he spotted her.

“A little bit ago; I was just watching my boys,” Felicia smiled, standing up to kiss him. “You hungry? I brought home dinner and I am starving!”

“Henry, run in and wash up, please,” Jensen directed toward her son.

“You got it, Dad!” Henry ran back inside and left Felicia and Jensen alone.

“How was your appointment?” he asked, downing a bottle of water, an enormous smile on his face.

“It was good. The treatment has been working; I have been seizure free for more than two years and he has been gradually decreasing the dosage for the last six months. I am officially off my meds!” Felicia threw her hands up in victory and Jensen picked her up, swinging her around.

“Red, that is amazing. I told you this wasn’t the end for you. I am still so proud of you everyday for fighting this battle,” Jensen congratulated her.

“Well, it had to be done anyway, I am just glad to have you here with me,” Felicia smiled up at him slyly. “Besides, the doctor says it’s better for me now to be off the medication for at least the next seven months.”

“Well, yeah, if you haven’t had any seiz--,” Jensen stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide. “What? Seven months...? Red, are you? Are we? Am I?’

“Cat got your tongue, Jen?” Felicia giggled and pulled a black and white sonogram photo out of her pocket.

“Who knew the worst thing in my life would turn out to the best thing that ever happened to me?” Felicia asked before kissing him passionately and wiping away his tears of happiness.

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#RPF Appreciation Day 2017 #sweetemotionschallenge #mama's100quoteschallenge #Jensen Ackles AU #Jensen Ackles #Jensen x Felicia #Jensen AU #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic

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velcr0kitty · 7 years

Text

What If?

Title: What If? Summary: You indulge yourself in a harmless passion, following a train of thought, but when Mikey catches a glimpse it may not be so harmless after all. Author: Velcr0Kitty Characters: Mikey (2016) x Reader Word Count: 1846 Warnings: Angst, fluff, body image… issues? I guess? Author’s Notes: Welcome to my first fic, I’m so sorry. I seriously didn’t expect it to become so sad my original idea was so happy ;-;

You drift to the bottom of the sketchbook and scrawl a title of sorts.

What If - Mikey

Under it, you put your signature. It’s hard to deny your feelings for the charismatic turtle, but with that whole “different species” issue complicating things you doubted the feelings would ever be mutual. That hasn’t stopped your daydreams yet.

You never imagined you’d be in a situation where you even could think that. Once upon a time you could only imagine yourself with your beloved art degree in a pleasant flat somewhere other than NYC. You would be a master of your passion and your passion, a career. Before you got your chance, however, your best friend fell very ill. You spent your time with her, being supportive. This was the snowball that became the avalanche.

Your friend was released after a few weeks. Then in succession, like a machine gun of shit, your mother died in a car accident, you were hostage in a bank robbery, your new apartment building out of town exploded (You didn’t honestly believe the landlord at first). Three foot clan attacks and a load more bull-shit later, you were broke, homeless, family-less and living, quite literally, under a rock (a storm a few months prior had upturned it in central park.) That’s where the turtles found you. Dirty, starving, and huddled up under a blanket some random do-gooder’s gave you. Though you suspect it was mostly Donnie’s doing, for whatever reason, they took you in and welcomed you into their home.

That was three years ago. Over those three wonderful years, they nursed you back to health, welcomed you, and loved you as one of their own. It didn’t take long for feelings to develop for the youngest. You spent day in and day out with all of the brothers, of course, but most of your time was with Mikey. Donnie always patched you up and made sure you were okay, but Mikey sat with you and made sure you were okay. He quickly became your best friend.

He comforted you, stayed up with you when you couldn’t sleep, you two have more inside jokes than you’d care to count. The only thing you don’t know about him is how much the guys have been hounding him for months, just small remarks during training or while on patrol, to get him to “just turtle up!” and ask you out or something.

For some reason, you kept your art from them. As close as y'all were, having even one thing to yourself can do wonders for your sanity. Sometimes, while the boys trained or for the hours Splinter had them in the Ha'Shi, you snuck out to buy supplies. Nothing too big, just sketchbooks and pencils that you stashed under your bed when not in use.

You often drew the brothers, for good reason. They had both ridiculously interesting lines and unique shapes, as well as always being around. Plus you had found a few well-hidden hidey holes to draw from if you wanted a live reference.

It’s only natural when crushing on a giant talking turtle to, even just once, imagine what he’d look like as a human, right?

Today, you ran with that thought. So, as you finish the drawing, you scan the page for any last minute fixes. You run your fingers over the sketch, being careful to not smudge. You feel the bumps and ridges of your pencil marks travel underneath you like a road map. As you move over his face, your hand reveals his brilliant and goofy grin, but you can almost see the way his blue eyes light up and glint with mischief when he laughs, the way the green of his cheeks shimmer in the light with his constant smiles and grins. You soften and fall into a lazy smile.

Your hand continues over his torso, your mind wandering to the endless amazing hugs, his muscular arms, his surprisingly comfortable plastron. Hesitantly, you move left, over a man. Lean, but built, muscle hidden under a wildly patterned t-shirt. His mid-length blond messy hair falls into his eyes, but the mischief and brilliant smile remain. He stands with his arms crossed. His pose screams youth, confidence and energy. Your eyes flick back and forth between the drawings. You are nowhere near as familiar with this man, but your curiosity is sated.

The sounds of training float from the dojo as you come back to reality. Heavy grunts and dull thuds tell you how far into training they are and, not realizing how late it really is, decide it will be some time until they’re done. You abandon your art supplies on your bed for the makeshift shower down the hall that Don whipped up last year.

When you emerge toasty and clean in your favorite PJ’s, you waddle towards your room and revel in the silence. You’re nearly winded when just how silent it was hit you like a freight train and you took off for your room. Mere footsteps away from the right corner and a soft hiccup of a sob makes you freeze, your heart dropping. You stop, inches from the door. You know what’s coming. Something in you tells you to run. What's around this corner? You know it will break you. You can leave. You don’t have to see those baby blues hating you. Thinking you’ve betrayed him.

You run a hand through your hair. Ruined.

You wring your hands. He hates you.

You take a step into the room, almost trembling. Looking everywhere but where you need to. His eyes are burning into you. Your room is dull. Face this. You could have run, but you didn’t. So, FACE. THIS.

When you make eye contact, you couldn’t and will never be able to accurately describe the sheer betrayal in his eyes. He’s gripping your sketchbook, the drawing. His eyes are red, his mouth agape. He opens and closes it a few times, searching for words.

———

“You know, we were almost human once?” You drop your controller and shift on the couch to look at him better. Disbelief paints your face.

“No kidding?”

———

“… What,” his voice breaks, as does his eye contact, which drops to the paper in his hand. “Y/N, what is this?”

———

“Seriously, Angelcakes. It’s crazy, Donnie had this ooze that we got from…” As he tells you his story you can see how important it was to him to find some normalcy. He wasn’t cracking jokes, he was barely moving. Just talking. This became the most personal and serious night you two had ever shared. He spoke of growing up with ninja turtles. You, of school, of bullies, of humans. You shared worlds.

———

You couldn’t find the words. You knew you had hurt him. Badly. It was just a drawing and a thought to you, but to him… to him it meant you didn’t like him for him. Maybe even not at all.

———

You swapped so much about each other that night, not just talking but learning. He finally opened up wholly when he wouldn’t look at you.

“I wish…” His hands suddenly become very interesting. “I wish I was human, you know? It would just be…” he searches for the word. The word he finds will break him. As he says it, he will cry through his half-hearted smile. You will hold him until you both fall asleep, cradling him to your chest, TV still on.

He looks up with pain and resolve.

“… Easier.”

———

“Y/N!” Mikey slams your sketchbook against the wall searching your eyes for an explanation. For the first time you’d ever heard, your best friend raised his voice. He was pissed.

———

The next morning he woke up embarrassed. He remembered your sweet coo’s and soft-spoken words of comfort from the night before as he took down a wall he never knew he had, for you. He never realized how much he wanted to give you the life you deserve, and just how much he couldn’t actually give you. A certain melancholy took him. He felt so bad as you talked about your life. As far as he knew no one in his family knew anything about you from before they found you, just that you had suffered a great deal and had no one left, but last night? He hadn’t thought about how much had to have happened for you to end up that way. For a moment, you had both bared yourselves, completely.

As these thoughts ran through him, the grogginess of waking up left him. He watched your eyes move behind your eyelids, your mouth open slightly as you breathed through your dreams. He pushes himself up so his full weight isn’t on you and with the loss of heat, you stir. Your sleepy eyes captivate him and he feels like he’s really seeing you. You have no idea. “Morning,” you quietly utter, not wanting to break the peace. Running a hand down your face, you sit upwards slightly. Noticing the vibe rolling off your normally talkative terrapin you sober up and give him a questioning look.

He hovers over you effortlessly, arms holding him up on either side of your hips. He has yet to move his gaze away from you, drinking in your features like a dying man. The only thing he can think of is kissing you until you melt, of running his hands down your waist. Steamy images fog his vision as he disappears in the thought of you. All you see is his expression softening until he closes his eyes with a small sigh.

“Um… Mikey, you good?” This snaps him out of his trance. He’s blushing and burning up but, lucky for him, you don't notice a thing. He coughs.

“Uh, yeah babe,” the nickname that had been used countless times felt heavy on his tongue, “I’m fine, just uh… tired. Do you mind if I…?” He slowly lowers himself back onto your midsection, eyes asking permission.

“Oh yeah sure,” you stammer, concerned. “Go for it.” He snuggles into you further, wrapping himself around your stomach and breathing in your smell, suddenly feeling like a brand new person.

———

When you don’t say anything for a few seconds he storms off, taking your sketchbook with him. You yell a helpless ‘No!’ after him. The room swarms around you and you feel like the floor left without you. The air leaves your lungs and you land on your knees. Soft, wary footsteps pad into your room and pair with your light sobs. Leo reaches down and wraps you up in his arms rubbing your back, speaking calming words, soothing you.

You can faintly hear Raph yelling after Mikey but as your own sobs wrack your body you lose all concentration on them and instead melt into Leo. He picks you up, carries you to your bed and lays you down. He hesitates, wanting to ask about what just happened but not wanting to push your already fragile state.

(THERE WILL BE A PART 2 :D )

Tags: @another-tmnt-writer @darkumbreon9

#tmnt #tmnt mikey #tmnt fic #tmnt 2016 #mikey x reader #tmnt x reader #finally done #fuck yeah #angst #it will get better #i promise #lord help me #word count: too many

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miraculous-dnd · 7 years

Text

Insight Chapter 2

A miraculous ladybug D&D!AU Words: 3552 Rating: Teen for mild language Summary: Between sessions the group finds time to catch up outside of D&D.

Marinette slept late the next morning, it was Saturday and she didn’t have to go into work that morning. She walked into the office around 10 anyways though, one of the designs that she had been working on calling to her. The office was quiet, Sylvia apparently taking her day off seriously, so Marinette put on some music and got to work. Around 1 she was interrupted by a buzz from her phone:

Adrien: Hey

Marinette: What's up

Adrien: You free today?

Marinette's heart raced, despite herself

Marinette: Yeah, just finishing up some work, what did you have in mind?

Adrien: Well I was in the neighborhood and I was wondering if you wanted to grab a late lunch, or maybe some coffee, if you've already eaten?

Adrien: Maybe we could talk D&D?

Marinette: Yeah, that sounds great.

She sent him the address of the office,

Marinette: Meet me here @1:30?

Adrien: sounds like a plan!

Marinette dropped the phone on the drafting table and took a deep breath. She let the excitement run its course, Adrien wanted to catch up and grab coffee. This was normal, right? They were in a D&D group together, they were in the same industry (though the lowest ranking Gabriel designer could probably buy out Coccinelle without breaking a sweat and Adrien was on the damn board of directors), they had plenty in common, they could go for a normal lunch between friends.

Ok, maybe the grade school crush wasn't so past tense. She tried to shift her focus back onto the designs in front of her, but she kept being dragged back by the silky cat's purr of Adrien's Rogue voice.

That's only a little weird. Right?

Adrien walked up in front of the small shop front of Marinette's and smiled, it definitely had her touch. He opened the door and walked in, the building seemed to be quiet, but he could see a light coming from the back. He walked towards it, taking care to go a little louder than natural, so as not to frighten.

She was sitting on a stool, half-finished sketch on the drafting table in front of her. Her hands were on her chin and her eyes were a thousand miles away.

Adrien cleared his throat, "Marinette? Did you still want to get lunch?"

She startled a bit, "Oh, Adrien, I didn't hear you come in. Sorry. Yes. Lunch, that is, yes I still want to go to lunch."

"I'm glad, I had started looking forward to it."

"oh." Marinette tried, very hard, to find something slightly more articulate to say, but alas.

"There's a deli around the corner, they have good vegetarian food." he pauses for a second, "are you still a vegetarian?"

"Yeah. Well, most of the time, I'll make exceptions for special occasions. But vegetarian deli sounds good, uh, let me just pack up a bit." She hurriedly packs away her sketches and slings a small ladybug purse over her shoulder. She beams up at him, toothy grin wide.

oh.

The deli wasn't very far away, and Marinette and Adrien sat on a bench outside to enjoy their sandwiches. They sat in silence a while, sandwiches an excuse for the awkward silence coming from the fact that neither of them had really talked to the other, outside of D&D in, well, a couple of years now. Adrien broke the silence first.

"So how is work going? Your shop seems like a lot is happening."

"Ha. That's a very polite way of saying the shop looks a mess."

"No, I mean-"

"It's alright, I know the shop's a mess, It's probably a good thing anyways, it means we're busy. Which is pretty much also how work is going; designing is what I always wanted to do, and I love it, but the business side is a lot of work when it is going well, and even more work when it's going poorly, but I guess that's the price I pay for living my childhood dreams"

Adrien felt a small pang of envy, to be able to pursue a passion, to have a clear idea of what your passions were, it must be nice.

"That sounds stressful, but I'm still kind of jealous, working at Gabriel is kind of soul-sucking. Like, I'm not ungrateful for what my dad left for me, it's just- I don't know, I didn't have a lot of time as a kid to have my own dreams, I had a path laid out for me, you know?"

"I never thought about that, you were a bit, wrangled as a kid weren't you?"

"I don't think I've had an unscheduled period longer than three days since I was, well, maybe ever."

"Yikes, that sounds not great"

"Yeah, it is what it is. Marcel is- he's Marcel, but he means well." Marinette raised her eyebrows a hair.

"Marcel, as in Marcel Proust, the man who, to hear half the fashion rags tell it, is slowly sucking the soul out of the Gabriel brand?"

"He doesn't have the most sparkling personality, that's true, but he is trying, my father and him, they were friends, or as close as my father got to having friends. Marcel just wants to honor his memory."

"I'm sorry Adrien, I'm sure Marcel means well, it's just, he's been with Gabriel for how long now? 15 years? 20? In an interview last week he had no idea what Toilé was."

"Yeah, he hasn't invested much in the theory, but he has a handle on the nitty-gritty of running a corporation."

Maybe too much of a handle, Adrien thought.

They sat quietly for a while, before Marinette spoke,

"So, how about the game last night? That was quite the fight huh?"

"Yeah, I'm super pumped to get to use my new item, it seems pretty versatile."

"Yeah, I don't know about mine, i'll take a hit to AC, but it bumps up my whip's range and damage, so that's pretty sweet."

"The card says tier 1 on it though, so we've probably got to unlock the really cool pieces."

"Yeah, I wonder how high they go, like, what is the max tier do you think?"

Alya is in her favorite spot, next to the window in her regular cafe, looking down over the main part of the shop on the level below, the additional seating area quiet by comparison. The word document in front of her sits, almost done, but not quite, the blinking cursor mocking her as she struggles to wrap up the story she has been writing. The political scene has become bleaker since she became a politics reporter, when she was young she had felt like there were heroes, people making real change, people caring for people and about process. Now though, well, every hero has their dirt, and Alya had made a career finding that dirt, which made the idea of a spotless hero something that Alya reserved for fiction.

Oh well, she still has two hours until deadline. She tabs over to her email, hitting the refresh and watching as a wave of unread messages cascades down her inbox.

Junk. Junk. Deal with that later. Junk. Junk.

Her eyes scan down the list of subjects and from addresses, until she hits a subject line that she can't ignore.

RE: Hawke

Alya clicked. Her eyes widened as the message appeared before them. This was big.

Their coffee date/outing/catch-up session/whatever-you're-supposed-to-call-it over Marinette was back in her office, back in the zone, her pen putting the finishing touches on the design that she had been working on earlier when her phone buzzed again. Marinette grabbed the phone eagerly,

Alya: Hey, you got a minute?

Marinette: Yeah, just doing a bit of weekend work, what's up?

Alya: I'm looking for advice, but I gotta be a bit vague, you down?

Marinette: Its for a story, isn't it

Alya: Yeah, anyway if you found out that someone in your industry was in the pocket of a certain, politician, and you could expose them, what would you do?

Marinette: Shit. Um, give me a minute to think

Marinette: I mean, I'd call you, obvs.

Marinette: I take it calling them out isn't going to make you very popular?

Alya: I mean, they've got a couple of fans, if you catch my drift.

Alya: I'm nervous enough about it to come to you for advice, if that says anything.

Marinette: Ha. Yeah.

Marinette: Well, I don't know, is there a hard time limit on this?

Alya: Not really, there's a couple of months before it's really relevant.

Marinette: Maybe you could just make a draft then, and see how you feel?

Alya: Good plan. How's this weekend looking? are you down for another session?

Marinette: Ooh, we've got a big order going out on Friday, but Saturday or Sunday ought to work!

Alya: Good to hear! I'll get in touch with everyone else, see how they feel. <3<3

Marinette put the phone down, then picked it up again and checked the time, it was almost 8, her stomach rumbled. Looks like another night of takeout.

Adrien was not a fan of Mondays. Working for Gabriel was... stressful, in the most boring way. Marcel was a controlling CFO and Adrien still wasn't entirely comfortable in the executive role that had been created for him after his father's death. It felt like the right thing to do though, and fashion was something that Adrien knew a lot about, so he did alright with that part of it, but bringing himself to care about the gross market returns on the spring line Tokyo marking campaign was next to impossible.

He had some time before his presentation to the board, so he closed the document, in a pinch he could wing it pretty well. He pulled open another document on his browser, and scanned down what he had already written.

"The Life and Times of Pollux Blackvein"

Raised by his aunt and uncle, Pollux spent most of his time as a child avoiding responsibilities, finding places to hide. There was little he loved more than to find a rooftop or shaded alcove from which he could people watch in peace. He created rich fictions in his head. This period of happiness could not last long however and tragedy soon struck again when a illness took both his living relatives. With nothing to keep him in the small town that was all he had known, he fled into the woods only days after his 16th birthday.

In the woods he found the hut of a old hermit, who took him in and gave him a place to stay as he mourned the life that he had left behind. When he had recovered the hermit began to train him, teaching him how to survive in the wild, how to hide and how to move silently. It was the old man that taught Pollux how to fight, and Pollux took to the quarterstaff quickly, favoring knives second. When the hermit had taught him enough, Pollux left his home for a second time, returning to the village that raised him.

When he arrived he found that the village was in a desperate condition. The Magistrate Vitaa Douleur had been installed in the town since he had left and was in gross abuse of her position, levying cruel taxes and enforcing laws that had gone untouched for good reason. The abuse of power made Pollux furious, so he began to formulate a resistance. He started small, disrupting the couriers that Vitaa dispatched to other cities, stealing small shipments of coin and distributing it, subtly, to the people of the town. When this caused her to double down on the oppression of his town, Pollux began to sow the seeds of violent rebellion. The rebellion was, ultimately, successful but it was a Pyrrhic victory. At the end Pollux stood over the body of Vitaa Douleur drenched in the blood of friend and foe alike, the assault on the manse leaving only Pollux standing, after searching the manse for any clue as to who was responsible for her installment in his town he burned down the manse and fled town that night. In that part of the country, stories are still told about the rebellion of Greenthorp, and the mysterious figure that led the people against the tyrannical ruler, but they are stories that Pollux has never heard, having fled to the capitol in search of the mysterious figure that sent the scourge to his people.

Since arriving in Erathia, Pollux has fallen in love with its people, and he is already beginning to chaff at the way that the nobility (or at least some of them) take advantage of them. He has made few friends in Erathia, finding the thieves too unscrupulous and the revolutionaries too lax and inactive. He is a radical living in a city of moderates.

Adrien sat there and let the cursor flash at the end of the document, he felt like there was something missing, maybe he needed more characters? Should he maybe soften Pollux's stance on nobility, since Marinette and Chloe were both playing nobles? He should have sent this to Alya like, two months ago, so maybe he shouldn't worry about it. He really wanted Alya to like it though, so maybe he should. What he needed was another set of eyes.

Adrien: Hey, you got a minute?

Max: Not really, but I need a break, what’s up?

Adrien: Not much, I was just hoping I could get you to look over my character background before I sent it to my DM, if you're busy I'll ask someone else.

Max: This is for Alya's campaign?

Adrien: Yeah

Max: Send it here, I need something to pull me away from work anyways.

Max: Nice, it looks good, I'd say you could send it to her as is, maybe add a couple of names of people from the town?

Friday night found Alya sitting in the workspace in her apartment, DM guide and monster manual open on the table in front of her, spreadsheet open on her computer. Tomorrow night was going to be epic, they were finally going to get into the meat of the arc that she had prepared. She just needed to find the right encounter to really bring home the scale of what they were supposed to be doing. She flipped the pages of the manual, looking for inspiration.

Myconid, Nothic, Ogre, nah.

Nothing had quite the feel that Alya was looking for. Then an illustration caught her eye. She started typing:

Horrificator: AC - 8, HP - 72, Speed 15 ft.

Nino woke up to the warm sunlight coming in through the window, and to the persistent buzz of his phone. He picked it up and looked at it groggily. "Reminder: Working Bibliography Due @ Noon today."

Shit.

Nino stumbled out of bed and pulled open his laptop. 10:00, two hours, that was probably enough time to shit together some sources, he could always go back later and decide not to use any of them. That's what he'd done in undergrad, 9 times out of 10. Just as he was opening the library page his phone buzzed on the bed.

Adrien: You still planning on getting lunch today?

Nino: Yeah, I got some stuff to finish up that's due @ noon, but we could go after

Adrien: Sounds good, how're classes going?

Nino: Well, I've heard you talk about how dry your junior capitalist meetings are, and I can assure you that, without a doubt, Professor Putnam is three times dryer

Adrien: Grad school sounds like a blast

Nino: its thrilling, now bug off, I gotta finish this, I'll see you at 12:30?

Adrien: Wouldn't miss it

Nino turned off the phone and got to work.

He got a respectable amount done by noon, and sent off the file at 11:59 precisely. He turned his phone back on and a flood of notifications rolled down the screen.

Alya: UUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH...

Alya: Can you believe this guy, and whats worse ca...

Alya: What really bothers me though is the way tha...

Alya: I swear, if I have to hear another relative say b...

Alya: That absolute shitstain of a man is the last thing...

Alay: Did you hear about the new thing with Hawke? he...

Apparently it had been an eventful morning.

He opened up the first text.

Alya: Did you hear about Hawke? he just announce he's running for president

Alya: That absolute shitstain of a man is the last thing this garbage pile of a country needs.

Alya: What really bothers me is the way that people are taking it seriously, like, this is the man Front National wouldn't endorse.

Alya: I swear, if I have to hear another white guy say 'ooh, he's outside the system' NO SHIT, he's outside the system because the system had the basic decency to kick him the fuck out.

Alya: Can you believe this guy, and what's worse is I'm going to have to report on this creep for like, a year!

Alya: UUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Gross.

A knock at the door interrupted Nino's reply. He opened the door and Adrien stood there, leaning against the hallway of Nino's apartment building.

"So, you ready to get lunch?"

"Just gotta put on some shoes, come in."

"Nice place you got here Nino."

"Not for long, I'm gonna be apartment hunting again soon."

Nino finished tying his shoes and stood up.

"Where are we headed?"

"Why am I always the one who has to decide on where we eat" Adrien laughed and stepped back into the hallway as Nino locked up the apartment.

"It's because you're the one with the time and money to eat out with any regularity." Nino said, giving Adrien's shoulder a playful punch.

"Fair enough I guess. I was thinking the bourgeoisie pig, since it's pretty close."

"The coffee shop? Do they even have food there?"

"I think they have a couple of lunch options, are you hungry?"

"I'm starving, I haven't had anything to eat since lunch yesterday."

"Dude, you've got to eat. Fine, how's Heather's sound?"

"Bro. I am always down for Heather's, you know this."

"Right, dumb question gets dumb answer, Lets go."

Heather's was only a few metro stops away from Nino's apartment, so it didn't take them too long before they were sitting down in the distressed leather booths that fit right in with Heather's distinct 'american diner' aesthetic. The walls were decorated with old street signs, black and white photos of crowds of people, and other random paraphernalia. Nino looked over the menu, an eclectic mix of American/Korean/Chinese/Indian/French/Japanese dishes, and unlikely fusions of all of the above.

"Bro, is there any chance that the vegan ramen burger is good?" Adrien seemed skeptical, but Nino knew better.

"Heather's has yet to let me down. That is far from the weirdest sounding thing I've gotten here. You should try their vegan soy sauce ice cream, that's an experience."

"I'll take your word for it. You ready for tonight?"

"D&D? Heck yes, I've been ready all week. I hope we get to go a bit longer this week though, last week felt kind of short."

"Yeah, but at least we got a bit of action, I was itching for a fight."

"Yeah well you don't have a wizard's hit points, so I can see how you might be a bit more eager to fight."

"Please, you're fine, we all passed our tests and now we’re gonna see some real fighting, I wonder what Alya is going to throw at us tonight."

"Same, I'm itching for a chance to get to use my new item."

Evening came and Adrien and Nino walked up the steps to Alya's apartment, the October chill settling in as the sun sank below the tall parisian buildings. When they hit the buzzer for Alya's apartment there was a long pause before the intercom crackled.

"Yeah?"

"Its us, Adrien and Nino, you wanna let us in?"

The lock clicked and Nino pushed into the foyer, the old building was a bit run down, but not a bad place to live. They took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and waited as Alya undid the locks on both doors to the apartment proper.

"Hey guys, ready to play? Marinette just texted, she should be here in a couple minutes. Chloe is on her way too."

When they were all gathered at the table, Alya got down to business.

"You all leveled up last time, so did you all figure out your stuff or do you need to do that now."

With leveling up out of the way, Alya wasted no time launching into the story.

"Last time, you remember, you appeared in front of a cave and decided to explore it, finding an old gnome who told you that you had been chosen by the gods to protect Erathia, as you stepped forward to accept this responsibility four fighters appeared to test your abilities, you defeated them, and the Gnome rewarded you with magical items of great power. You then appeared back in Erathia, and that was where we left off."

#miraculous ladybug #marinette cheng #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #insight

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atiyasworld · 5 years

Text

Unbroken

Summary: This is a story about a teenager whose life was as bright as night time. Bullied by her ex best friend, Sara Wilson thinks that she will never find happiness in her life. But when a new girl came into her class and defended her against her bullies, Sara is shocked to the core. Will she finally have a friends that she can rely on?

It was a bright sunny morning in Birmingham, England. Sara Wilson sat on her dining room chair. She picked up her breakfast from the glass plate. Sara sank her teeth into the sandwich. It was her favourite. Chicken, lettuce and mayonnaise. Her mother had also prepared Guacamole before leaving for work, but, in Sara’s opinion, it did not look at all appetizing. Guacamole was not one of Sara’s favourite food. Still chewing on her sandwich, she started the morning newspaper. It was about the persecution of a criminal that the police were after for weeks. Not really interested, she folded the newspaper and proceeded to eat her sandwich.

Sara Wilson is your ordinary 13- year-old- girl. She goes to High School, she has nice loving parents, anything you would expect from an average girl. But, on the inside of this 13-year-old, she was as broken as a china plate after dropping it. Sara Wilson cries herself to sleep every night. She secretly flinches whenever someone talks to her. All of this is the cause of one girl in her high School. Jessica Smith, her ex-best-friend.

Finishing her sandwich, Sara strode out of the dining room and went to her room to get her school bag. Sara’s room was type of room you would expect from a girl who cares deeply for her education and adores animals. There were many brochures about school clubs taped neatly to the wall, there was a large school calendar stuck on her wooden door, and there were various pictures of animals on the wall. Sara’s favourite was the picture of the black jaguar running in a forest. Sara adores her room. Her room also had many quotes, most of which inspired Sara.

There were many clay sculptures that looked like it was made by a very skilled person, placed at a table near her window, Sara was very fond of her artworks. Sara’s parents bought her anything that she wanted, but she was not the kind that took advantage of it. The most astonishing part of her room was the rather large collection of books. The bookshelf went all the way to the ceiling, and it was filled with numerous books, there was no empty places.

Getting her school bag from her unwrinkled, spotlessly made bed, she jogged out of the room to catch the school bus. Sara was not going to be late on a Monday.

.............

When Sara arrived at school, she was eight minutes early. She took advantage of that time and went to the school library. Sara simply loves books, fictions, romance in particular, was her favourite. She went through the romance section and found the book she was looking for. It was the third book from the Where Have You Been series.

Going into the seating area, which was near the nonfiction books, Sara sat down at a table and opened her book that was screaming at her to be read.

“…Why can’t we get that nerd, Wilson, to do this stupid essay? Honestly that girl is such a scaredy cat that she will do anything for us.”

Sara’s blood went cold. That voice only belonged to Courtney Chambers, Jessica’s side kick. Sara stood up from her chair, not even looking back to push her chair in. She tried to manoeuvre through the book shelves, so she wouldn’t get caught by Courtney and Jessica. But, luck was not on her side today.

“Hey, Sara! I do not know why I am surprised to see you here. Your nose is always shoved in a book.” Courtney and Jessica guffawed. Sara slowly turned around and came face to face with Courtney Chambers and Jessica Smith, her old best-friend and her now bully.

Courtney and Jessica almost looked identical, they had the same light green eyes and raven-black hair. Both had sadistic, cruel smirks on their face, ruining their beautiful faces.

“We were just talking about you, nerd.” Courtney began, still smirking. “We were just wondering if we could ‘burrow’ your English essay.”

Sara said nothing. Courtney strutted up to her. “What’s the matter, huh? Surely you could write another essay. You have plenty of knowledge in that giant head of yours,” Courtney sneered. Sara wanted nothing more than the bell to ring. Courtney grasped Sara’s shoulder, her sharp nails digging in. “Don’t you dare deny us. We will destroy you.”

Sara was terrified. This was not the first time Cortney had physically abused her. Jessica normally just threw insult at her, but never physically done anything, she watched Courtney do it, emotionless, making no judgement. All the memories of Jessica and Cortney bullying her flashed in front of her eyes. She had done nothing to stop them. The terror that she felt lessened, replaced by anger and disgust. Sara shook her shoulders out of Courtney’s grasp. “You don’t scare me, Courtney. You are just a dog that has no life.” Sara wish she could swallow back the words.

Courtney looked shocked to the core. She blinked once, then her features all distorted to anger. “Why you little bi-” She got cut off by the bell ringing, much to her annoyance and Sara’s relief.

“Don’t think I am done with you, Wilson. You better watch your back.”

……….

Sara sat in her normal spot at the front in mathematic class. This was one of the five classes that she shared with Jessica and Courtney. Sara looked behind her. Courtney was looking at her worksheet like it was from another planet; Sara saw her get a calculator from her bag. A fool could guess that she was terrible at maths. Jessica, however, was speeding through the worksheet.

Jessica was once Sara’s best friend. They started being best friends since Kindergarten. Jessica used to be one of the most generous person Sara had ever met. She was a best friend that anyone could ask for; she came into you house when you needed something, she would be on your side no matter what, and every other thing that you can ask in a friend. Then, at the start of year seven, Jessica started to distance herself from Sara, and started to hang out with Courtney and other popular girls. That was when the bullying started, Jessica, along with Courtney, started to pick on her. Sara never knew, and still doesn’t know why Jessica became like this.

Sara turned her attention back to Mrs William. “…You all must always be on your best behaviour; the school inspector will pop into every class to see how the school is run. Please do no embarrass me. Oh, and remember that the all the year nines will be getting an injection next week - No, don’t even think about skipping school, Dylan, you will have to do it the next day - Our country’s government wants all the children to be healthy and without any illnesses.”

The home-time bell rang. All the students rushed out of the classroom. Mrs William made a disapproving noise and began collecting all the worksheets. Sara began packing her bag, neatly putting her books in the right places. “Bye, Mrs William.” Sara said politely on her way out.

“Bye, love.”

……….

It was 6:00 PM. Sara was laying in her bed. Her homework was already finished, as was her chores. She grabbed her phone from her bedside table and turned it on. She had new notification from the news app; apparently a man’s parachute had ripped halfway thought his 500 feet jump from an airplane. And he unfortunately didn’t survive his fall. Sara shut her phone, she already had enough misery in her life, she didn’t want to hear anyone else’s.

Deciding to go to bed early, Sara put her phone in charge. She lifted her blanket on top of her head. Deciding not to fall into thought, she shut her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

..........

The next morning at school, her class had a new student. It was a kind-looking girl, with dimples and the sweetest smile. Her name was Isabella Smart. Sara wants to be her friend.

An annoying laugh reached Sara’s ears. “What do you think you’re staring at? You think she’s going to be your friend? Pah-leese.” Sara turned to Courtney. She couldn’t find anything to say. Surprisingly Jessica didn’t join Courtney at laughing at her speechlessness. She just looked distant and emotionless. An angelic laugh came from right behind her. It was Isabella.

“Of course she can be my friend. I would be honoured to be her friend.” Isabella said, smiling, putting her hand on Sara’s shoulder. Sara suddenly felt warm and fuzzy inside.

Jessica stared at Sara with a weird expression, while an ugly grimace appeared on Courtney’s face. “Why on Earth would you want to be her friend? She’s just a phony.”

But Isabella was unyielding. “I believe you should say that to yourself.” Courtney’s sneer grew more menacing. “Did you know that sneering decreases the elasticity of your skin? Do you want to borrow a cream that I have got? It works so well on skin like yours, people should advertise it. Courtney knew that Isabella was mocking her, but it bothered her that Isabelle was making it sound nice at the same time.

Sara was astonished. No one had ever defended her against Courtney or Jessica before. Sara looked at Courtney’ face. She was staring at Isabella as if she was dog poop stuck at the bottom of her shoe. Jessica was looking at Sara with an expression that was close to wistful. Jessica opened her mouth as if to say something, but she closed her mouth. Jessica had been acting very peculiar these last few days. She barely made any nasty comments, which was very unlike her. Whatever Jessica was goig to say, Sara does not care.

For the rest of English class, neither Courtney nor Jessica talked. Isabella smiled reassuringly every now and then to her. This was the best day of Sara’s life. How can a sweet looking girl like Isabella have some spunk and fire in her? It’s true what they say, don’t judge a book by its cover. The rest of English rolled by peacefully.

At lunch time, Sara saw Isabella walking up to her, under the tree in which she always sat by herself. Isabella sat on the grass in front of her and put her lunchbox down. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

“Hey.” Sara took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say thank you for standing up for me at English.”

Sara smiled again. “You shouldn’t let them treat you like that. Hey, um, I know this is very early and alI, but I just wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to come to the local library with me after school? The library has lots of new acquisition. And it will be fun to have a friend with me.”

Sara was astonished. She couldn’t believe she had someone invite her to go out. Sara knew her parents will be bustling with joy if they found out. “I will be honoured to.” For the first time in a long time, Sara smiled.

..........

The study date with Isabella went amazing yesterday. They both helped each other and suggested books to each other. Isabella turned out to be the most humorous, entertaining and funniest human being Sara ever had the pleasure to meet.

For the whole school day, Isabella and Sara spent time together. Not once did they separate. Courtney tried to kill the mood a couple of times, but Isabella was always sharp as a knife. Sara showed Isabella a tour of the school and told her the teachers names. That day was the best school day in Sara’s life. Isabella and Sara were quickly becoming the best friends.

At the end of school, Sara was going through her locker to take her books home with her. Just when she was about to close her locker, Sara heard her name and someone running towards her. It was Jessica. All good thought blew out of her mind, replaced by irritation and anger. “What do you want?” Sara demanded, her voice icy cold.

“Sara.” Tears filled Jessica’s emerald eyes. “I-I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Courtney told me to, and I had stuff going on.” A tear rolled down her porcelain-smooth cheek, her bottom lip trembled. “P-please say you forgive me and that we will be friends again.”

Sara glared at her. “I will only forgive you when you prove to me to me that your apology is sincere. Until then, do not come near me. Don’t think that you will be forgiven just because you said sorry. I have put up with your snide remarks and bullying for a year, a year! I don’t want to be your friend or you enemy, I don’t want to be your anything!” Sara slammed her locker shut, startling Jessica. Swinging her bag on her shoulder, she glared at Jessica. “Stay away from me.”

Sara felt a huge satisfaction. This was not a fairy-tale, where when someone apologises, everything is all forgiven and everything is all cupcakes and rainbows. The only friend that she wanted was Isabella. She did not want Jessica back. To hell with her and her fake apology and tears. Sara knew that Jessica could act. Even if her tears were real, let her go through the pain that Sara did. Sara was going to call Isabella straight after she gets home to tell her about this. A person can forgive and forget, but Sara would not forgive or forget. Ever.

#bully #unbroken #1x-goddess-x1 #oneshot #sad

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