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#let alone whatever prescription they need for the long drive
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the high prices of fucking Everything is so exhausting i stg
#i need to take an uber to the vet TEN MINUTES AWAY#i repeat IT IS A TEN MINUTE DRIVE#and its gonna cost me nearly 60 bucks. the FUCK#and who knows how much the checkup for my cats is gonna cost#let alone whatever prescription they need for the long drive#im so tired. im so so tired#its moments like these where i can see my future#ah yes. working 9-5 for a company that sees me as nothing more than a tool to be replaced when broken#just barely scraping by on minimum wage in a world where that isnt enough to pay for essentials#left with no time or energy to actually enjoy being alive or do the things i love#years and years of the same exact shit over and over and over again hating every second#and KNOWING it could be so much better but also knowing that it fucking Cant. sigh#sorry sorry im just. angry again at the absolute state of things#i would love to love life but my fucking god the world at large makes it tough#white-knuckling the little things once again#man its just. its so STUPID lmao#like why are we torturing ourselves like this? why are we just Accepting this#life could be so great but stupid shit like taxes and inflation and utilities exist#most of the shit we have to pay for should be free. it should be free.#it shouldnt be difficult to Live just because the majority of us don't have the fake fucking paper to buy things#its pointless its ridiculous and it makes me furious#why should i kill myself just to survive huh. why should i. why should any of us.#we all deserve to fuckin. idk enjoy sunsets and good food and art and each others' company.#instead everyone's stressing themselves to death over making rent and getting groceries and paying bills. fuck.#id love to be able to create art that Sells and open a shop or something#but also the thought of creating purposefully marketable art purely to make money fucking kills me inside#comms are one thing but... just... sighing sighing sighing. man idk#i just dont know. ill deal but everytime i manage to think positively reality comes in with a sledgehammer and now i want to go back to bed#the point is to live BUT YA CANT FUCKIN LIVE BC POINTLESS STUFF REIGNS SUPREME. WHO'S GONNA COMMIT ARSON W ME CMON LETS GO#this stupid fucking country and this stupid fucking government. i hate it here
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Headcanons for Sam Winchester that are true because I say so;
As promised from my poll! (Sorry for the delay; organic chemistry is a BITCH.)
- he does literally NOTHING with his hair, EVER. He barely brushes it, doesn’t use conditioner, and forget to cut it; and yet it looks amazing everyday. Sam is the very definition of “I woke up like this.” (Yes, it drives Dean so far up the wall as he takes a minimum of an hour and a half to get ready)
- he always thinks girls don’t like him, but really; it’s cause he can’t tell when a girl is approaching him and blatantly flirting. (“She seemed really nice!”😁 Dean: 😑)
- before he started hunting with his brother; he was always known as the most positive, upbeat, spunky, innocent person any of his friends knew. But a lots changed since then….
- he likes movies and tv shows; but he doesn’t actually ever watch them. Half the stuff Dean quotes he HAS actually seen, but he always falls asleep or gets distracted and doesn’t remember.
- he’s allergic to sooooooooo many things. So many things. Not really food tho, mainly just the outside. He goes thru about 4 pill packs of allergy meds a week. (He used to only need 1 pack of prescription allergy meds, but since they’ve been on the road he can never get it refilled, let alone renewed.)
- the reason why Sam knows so much about fairy tales; (and Dean doesn’t even remember this) is because whenever Sam couldn’t get to sleep as a kid, Dean would read him whatever fairytale kids - book he could snag from whatever public library they were near at the time.
- the worlds worst dancer, both Winchester brothers are, but Sam is the worse of the two. It’s because Dean at least owns the moves, Sam just looks like he has to poop….
- his left ear IS pierced. It was a dare from his friends in college, he doesn’t wear it around Dean cause he would never hear the end of it…. (But he just couldn’t bear to let the piercing close up/heal, he secretly thinks it’s so cool)
- CAFFEINE ADDICT. The man cannot do anything without his coffee, tea, soda, if it’s caffeinated, he’s drinkin it. (As a consequence of this; he LOVES Starbucks. pumpkin spice lattes + 4 expresso shots = happy sam)
- he’s SUCH a light sleeper. And Dean is a SNORER. It’s a nightmare. (And not the prophetic traumatic kind)
- he kinda hates driving. He doesn’t really mind in the impala cause he’s used to it, but he only really volunteers to drive now when he knows Dean needs rest. He thinks driving is boring and he always has to force his eyes to stay on the road ahead.
- he thinks Dean is the funniest person alive. He laughs on the inside at all of his brothers jokes. (He wouldn’t admit that even on his deathbed, demons couldn’t torture that info out of him)
- kids kinda make him nervous. His regular charm doesn’t really work on kids, they’re always unpredictable, and they’re so fragile. He of course is always kind to them, but he’s not really comfortable with them.
- he was obsessed with dinosaurs as a child; one of his secret greatest wishes’, is to have a case somehow involve dinosaurs. Dinosaur ghosts.
- he has a pretty heavy southern accent like Dean, but in law school, people didn’t take him seriously tho, so he practiced for 4 months to drop the accent. (He slips sometimes when he gets really mad or excited)
I threw in a few more Headcanons then I normally would cause I felt bad for making y’all wait so long!!! 💜
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"Broken & Beautiful" Chapter 19
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     Thankfully, with plenty of rest and fluids, I was able to kick my sickness to the curb. On day two of my illness, I allowed Jake to convince me to call in sick. Granted, I didn’t have to make a mad dash to the bathroom like I did before. But I had to face the facts: I really shouldn’t go to work that day. Jake was great throughout the entire ordeal, coming straight to my apartment after work to make sure I was okay. Let’s just say that my love and respect for him went through the roof.
     Even though I tried to put it out of my mind, I admit that the comment Scott made to Jake at the truck depot got me thinking. Thanks to my illness, combined with Scott’s words, my mind was racing. I had to be absolutely, 100% certain. Otherwise, I would drive myself - and Jake - crazy. So the morning after my illness ran its course, I walked to the store just a few blocks from my apartment and bought every brand of pregnancy test I could find. I didn’t care about the judgmental looks I was receiving from the other people in line, or the not-so-subtle head shake the cashier gave me as she scanned each test. I had no time to be bothered by their stupidity.
     When I got home, I chugged as much water as I could and then made a mad dash to the bathroom. I know Jake was trying to be supportive, but I really couldn’t focus with him standing right outside the bathroom door. So I ordered him to wait for me in the living room, telling him that I would let him know when the test results were ready. Several minutes and four pregnancy tests later, I called him into the bathroom to give him the results. Each and every test told us the same thing: I was not pregnant.
     You can’t imagine the relief I felt at that moment. As much as I love Jake, we’ve only been together for a few months. It’s far too soon to bring a new life into the world, and neither one of us are ready. And although he was supportive during the ordeal, I couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction would have been if I turned out to be pregnant. He tends to run and hide when things become difficult. Could I trust him to not do that when I needed him the most? Would he be there for me? I’d like to think so, but that is the one thing I can’t be sure of when it comes to him.
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     It is now Valentine’s Day, and we are bracing ourselves for what is sure to be an extremely busy night. Talk about hitting the ground running.
     I walk through the employees’ door and make my way through the kitchen, waving hello to the kitchen staff before I make my way up the stairs to the locker room. I reach the top of the stairs and encounter Simone as she makes her way out. We exchange pleasantries, and I have to remind myself to “keep the peace,” the entire time. If not for Jake, I would have clawed this woman’s eyes out long ago. We discuss our plans for this evening, and then go our separate ways.
     When I reach my destination, I’m pleased to find that Jake and I are the only ones here. There’s something we need to discuss before work, and we don’t need people listening in. I approach him as he stands at his locker, having just put on his tie. After taking a look around to make sure we’re alone, I reach out and straighten his tie as I speak softly.
     “So, I went to my doctor this morning.” He gives me his full attention, leaning against the lockers. “First of all, I’m fine. She checked me over. She said that whatever made me sick must have passed through me. I talked to her about our ... scare. And I decided that, given how ...” I search for a delicate way to phrase things. “... active we are, extra precautions should be taken. So tomorrow morning, as soon as the pharmacy opens, I’ll pick up my prescription.” He nods in acknowledgment. “Now that that’s settled ...” I smile at him. “... happy Valentine’s Day.”
     He returns the sentiment, and we share a kiss. It doesn’t last long. In fact, we keep it PG because of where we are. But it’s still just what I need. I reluctantly pull myself out of his embrace and make my way to my locker, while he walks out of the room. After taking off my coat and scarf, and then slipping out of my boots, I open up my locker and smile at what I see. On the shelf is a heart-shaped box filled with my favorite chocolates, accompanied by two roses: one pink and one red. The note that is taped to the box is simple: Love, J.
     “Aww! That’s sweet,” Tess comments when she walks into the locker room.
     “Yeah. He has his moments,” I remark as I put my gifts back on the shelf and start to get ready. “So, are you and Will doing anything special tonight?”
     “He’s taking me out to dinner. What about you and Jake?”
     “I can’t say.”
     Tess pauses as she takes off her jacket, looking at me. “Is he going to surprise you?”
     “Nope. I am going to surprise him.” I grin to myself as I think over my plan. There’s something about me that Jake doesn’t know, and he’s going to find out tonight.
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     The time for Shift Drinks has finally arrived, and we let out a collective sigh of relief. It would be an understatement to say that the shift was busy. It seemed that every table was filled with couples celebrating the holiday, and I think we are all drained.
     I enter the main floor area, holding the two roses in one hand while I have my box of chocolates safely tucked under my arm and hidden by my coat. There’s no way I’m letting Ari see these things. She’s an even bigger chocolate fiend than I am. I sit down on a stool and discreetly place the box on my lap, making sure it’s still hidden. I’m busy listening to Sasha ramble on about how he believes Valentine’s Day is nothing but one great, big conspiracy when something in my peripheral catches my attention.
     “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Will says, holding out a flower. It seems that my best friend, being the sweetheart that he is, has decided to present each of us ladies with a flower. It’s just his way of making us feel special.
     “Aww! Thank you, Will. Your momma raised you right.”
     “That, she did,” he answers proudly. “So, what are you and Jake up to tonight?”
     “I’m not at liberty to say. I’m keeping it a surprise,” I remark. I see him shake his head a little, and I look at him curiously. “What?”
     “I don’t know. It’s just ... You two. I mean, no offense. I’m just surprised that you guys have lasted this long. You know, given how Jake used to be.”
     I’m trying not to feel annoyed, but it’s a hard emotion to swallow. “Yeah, Will. Key words: ‘used to be’. He’s different now.”
     “I can see that,” he remarks with a nod. “You two seem great together.”
     “We are,” I declare with a smile. “What’s that saying from that movie? ‘I don’t make sense. He doesn’t make sense. Together, we make sense.’ That’s me and Jake.”
     “I’m happy for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me ...”
     I watch as Will and Tess leave for their date and then turn to see Jake standing behind the bar. “Well, it’s about time! I was starting to think you’d wandered off,” I comment, and he laughs.
     “You ready to go?”
     “Yes, I am. But I’m going to need you to hang out here for a little while.” I do some calculations in my head, rolling my eyes upward as I do so. “Say ... thirty minutes or so.”
     “What are you up to?”
     “It’s a surprise. Just meet me at my apartment in thirty minutes. You have your key. Right?” He reaches into the left pocket of his leather jacket and holds up the key, attached to a keychain with a little camera decoration. A little something special for my favorite photographer. “Good. See you in thirty.” I lean over the bar and give him a quick peck on the lips, then bid everyone else a good night.
     As soon as I make it home, I lock the door and then discard my purse and coat. I take my gifts into the kitchen, put the roses in a small vase filled with water, and then set the box of chocolates down on my kitchen table. I begin to make my way to my next destination when I decide that I do have time for a treat. I pick one that seems particularly tasty and take a bite, grimacing and then throwing the chocolate in the garbage can under the sink. Strawberry cream. Yuck! I grab another one, close the box, and take a bite. Okay. This one is better: caramel.
     Now that that’s out of my system, I put my plan into action. First, I create a trail of rose petals leading from the door to my bedroom. I use the remaining petals to decorate my bedspread before I begin to light the candles that I’ve placed in various areas around my bedroom.
     Create romantic atmosphere: check.
     Now on to step two: see if I can render him speechless with what I’ve kept hidden from him. I open up my closet and move my clothes aside, reaching for the shopping bag that I left dangling from one of the hangers on the wall. I reach inside and pull out the items. Yes, ladies and gents. I overcame my awkwardness long enough to pay a visit to a certain place known for its lingerie. It took me a while, and I was blushing the entire time, but I think I found something that will make an impression on my valentine. It’s a light pink, lacy little number that’s see-through save for ... certain areas. I slip into it and then pull on a short black satin robe, deciding to pin up my hair so a few auburn ringlets frame my face. Now all I have to do is wait for him to arrive.
     Sure enough, a few minutes later I hear the door open and shut. After switching on some ambient music, I sit at the foot of the bed. I scramble to find the right pose, settling for crossing my legs and using my hands to support myself as I lean back just so. The curtain is pushed aside and Jake steps into the room, his eyes immediately landing on me.
     “Wow! You look ... uh ...”
     “Wait ‘til you see what’s underneath.”
     I get up and slowly walk up to Jake, and then I begin the process of slowly sliding his hoodie off of him. The garment lands on the floor and Jake reaches for me, but I step back and shake my head. “No. Not yet. I told you I have a surprise for you. I want you to take off your clothes and lay down on the bed. On your stomach, please.”
     Jake furrows his brows at me in confusion, and I smile at him. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it. Trust me.” He gives me that mischievous grin of his and then does as he’s been told, stretching out on my bed. I drape a white sheet over his bottom half, leaving his legs and feet exposed. “What are you going to do to me?” he asks, adjusting the pillow so he’s more comfortable.
     I walk over to my dresser and grab my bottle of massage oil. “Well, I’m not going to go all “Fifty Shades of Grey,” on you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He makes a sound that indicates he’s disappointed, and I choose to ignore it for now. I climb onto the bed and position myself so I’m close enough to accomplish what I’m about to do. “There’s something you don’t know about me, Jake.”
     “Oh, no. Let me guess. Lilah isn’t your real name, and you’re just working at the restaurant to cover up your secret identity as a spy. Don’t worry. I’ll still love you,” he teases.
     I shake my head. He does have an imagination. “No. A few years ago, before I started working at the restaurant ... I was a massage therapist.”
     “A what?”
     “A massage therapist ... for about six months.”
     “Ah! Is that what you’re going to do to me?”
     “Mm-hmm. You've been tense lately, and I am going to help you relax,” I confirm as I pour some massage oil into my hands, closing the bottle and setting it aside. I rub the oil between my hands, warming it up. “And believe me, Jake, you are going to love it.”
     “Oh, really? What makes you think that?”
     “Because I know what I’m doing,” I announce before I reach out and apply gentle pressure to his neck and shoulders. He tenses up at first, but then I can feel him start to relax. I can even hear him let out a low, soft, pleasure-filled moan. “Just relax and enjoy, Jake. Think of this as my way of saying ‘Thank you’.”
     “For what?” he asks, his voice muffled by the pillow.
     “Oh, I don’t know. For taking care of me while I was sick. For putting up with all of my drama. For showing up at my apartment that night and staying with me. The list goes on and on.” I move on to his upper back, my hands gliding over his skin.
     “You could have said ‘Thank you,’ you know.”
     I pause for a moment and pout at him. “Are you complaining? Should I stop?”
     “Don’t even think about it. Keep going.”
     “That’s what I thought.”
     I move my hands down to his lower back, placing my hands against the area near his hips, and push forward toward the middle of his back. He lets out a groan and I pause, looking down at him in concern. “Too hard? You want me to lighten up?”
     “No. Keep going. That felt ... good, in a weird way.”
     “Okay. If you say so.” I work on that area for a few minutes and then move on to the next section. I don’t know if he’d be comfortable massaging the area that’s covered with the sheet, so I skip over it and move down to his legs. Because he has this thing about his feet being touched, I skip that area as well and choose to move on to his arms. By now, he seems completely relaxed. His eyes are closed, and I start to wonder if he’s asleep. “You still with me?”
     “Mmmm,” is his only response.
     Soon, my work is done and I have one very relaxed, very happy and very content valentine. I make a move to get off of the bed when Jake calls out to me.
     “Hey. Where are you going?”
     “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I’m just going to put the oil away and then wash my hands. I’ll be back.”
     He makes another “Mmm,” sound, and I quickly do as I said.
     Though I do admit that I make one pit stop in the kitchen for another bite of chocolate. After locking the door and turning out the lights, I return to the bedroom. I check on Jake, shaking my head when he seems to be sleeping. Seems I relaxed him a little too much. Deciding that the rest of our romantic night will have to wait, I begin to blow out the candles. I don’t make it very far before he wakes up and calls out to me.
     “Do I get to see what’s under that robe now?”
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@anastacia-lynn
@mypsychoticlove
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aajjks · 6 days
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Bunny!Jungkook
Hi, you must be Joshua! Im Yn! I’m so sorry to ask you to meet me so fast but it really is important to me.. I guess I’ll start um.. Lacy moved in almost a year ago. At first she seemed really sweet and then she saw me with my boyfriend one day, she talked about how attractive he was. It got worse after she found out he was a bunny hybrid. Immediately after she found out I.. Well own him, she wanted to pay me for him to sleep with him and after weeks of saying no, she began telling me all of.. The intimate details about him.. I don’t believe he cheated on me.. At least I’m praying to God he didn’t.. She continues to explain why she trusts him, her concerns about their privacy being invaded, and Lacy’s behavior..
Listen to me.. Lacy.. Her and I, we were together for 6 years. I.. I loved her more than anything but she’s a horrible person! She cheated on me multiple times, drugged men, she’s a violent person. She gets whatever she wants at the cost of anything or anyone. I don’t think she even cares for anything.. The only reason her and I stayed together was because I was too scared to be alone.. She owned me, legally.. It’s scary when I can’t even get a job as a hybrid without having an owner.. As a dog hybrid.. I crave sex, a lot but not as much as a bunny.. So the best way we made money was by making prom together. She wanted to move onto other men.. And she did. But, she’s always wanted a bunny. She’s more than a sex addict. She’s.. I don’t even know but she can have sex everyday all day long. A bunny would be perfect a for her.. But she’s obsessive.. She had her eyes on Jungkook for a lot longer than you think.. She knew his old owner. I remember seeing his photo on her phone. Lacy was trying to set up a meeting to talk about having sex with him. She wanted to pay a large amount of money for him. The owner wouldn’t allow it because he was so violent towards anyone.. Once he ran from his owner, Lacy searched for him for so long.. She won’t let him go now that she found him.. There’s something you need to know.. Whispering as he tells her the most important piece of information.
Hey Jungkook? I’m on my way home.. I’m sorry it’s really late but I was hoping we could talk.. It’s really important.. I think I’ve add my mind up about us..
“Hi noona!!!! O-Oh Of course I’m available can you just come home so we can talk I mean I brought your prescription to but you sound a little worried is everything OK you’re not going to leave me a ride please don’t leave me. I will do anything and I’m waiting for you to come home. What is it that you need to talk about? I’m so fucking scared right now. I love you. Come home soon. Please drive safe.”
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chaoticskyy · 3 months
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The one you mentioned in the notes of your fic? I guess that's about you? Im kinda interested in the other one now too
OH! Okie yeah your right it's about me.
SO. You're gonna need some context about who I am, where I come from, and what that means.
I'm an afro-indigenous person from Guatemala dad's side is the mixed black side, and mom's side is the primarily indigenous side. The region we're from is best described as Texas but worse. I carry a machete in my truck just in case, and every male elder I know wears a cowboy hat.
The mestizaje of the region is pretty through, most people are mixed indigenous with white, and of course, it's Guatemala. Half of us are "wholly" indigenous. I stick out like a sore thumb, not because I'm dark skinned. Black Guatemalans exist but mainly farther north, in Izabal and port regions. I'm fairly light skinned, but I have really curly hair, I'm tall for the region and not to being vain, but I'm really pretty.
Once I hit puberty, I haven't really been allowed to wander around on my own for safety reasons. You see, we live in a region where the organized crime that reigns isn't gangs, it's narcotics trafficking cartels. They usually leave you alone, unless you approach them for whatever reason. Like you want money and are willing to launder for them and things like that.
Narcos have this nasty habit of picking out women they deem attractive and sponsoring them, essentially being their sugar daddies but like Worse. Usually, the sugar baby can get put of the relationship scot-free, but in this case, women are known to be killed.
The fear has always been I catch the eye of one of them, and I have to flee the country for a long while. Or until they relocate. It's a fairly warranted fear, I've been approached by Narcos for dances, drinks, etc. I have been followed even while I've been in a large family group by these men who all clearly have pistols and bodyguards and are driving bulletproof SUVs. I've been saved every time by my family stepping in before I knew something was wrong.
Now that you know all of this info, let's get to the night I nearly got kidnapped! To be extremely clear, I have no idea what their specific intentions were other than that they wanted to take us away from the place we were at.
My mom's Gabapentin prescription had run out during our last trip to Guatemala, so my mom, my aunt, and I decided to head into town from my grandma's village to buy the medicine. My sister and younger cousin begged us to go, but I put my foot down and told them to fuck off because every time they left the house they made us spend more money than planned and the medication was going to be expensive.
Gotta say thank God I was an asshole to them that day.
My mom has some serious brain fog when we got to the 24HR pharmacy, she had tried to hold out and suck up the pain but I backfired on her and she wasn't able to hold out as long as she wanted which meant it was 9pm by the time we had headed into town. So she shoves the money into my hands and tell us to go get it.
We walk up to the pharmacy and wait in line outside. The pharmacy itself had been closed leaving only a tiny window for money and drugs to be exchanged. There's only two people in front of us, and then two men get behind us.
Blue shirt has a pistol on each side and a wicked looking knife on his right. Yellow shirt keeps looking me up and down. He only had one pistol.
It's no biggie. My own mom has a revolver in the car herself. Guns are the norm around here. If you don't have one, you at least have a machete. I hadn't noticed then, but they had purposely placed their truck at an angle, preventing anyone from passing the tiny road.
Then they start talking. Mind you, there are no alarm bells in my mind right now. I'm actually incapable of feeling anxiety while on my medication, not to mention my risk assessment skills are lacking due to the Autism. Yellow shirt does most of the talking, trying to sus out who we are and what we're doing. I don't realize things are wrong until my aunt is shaking with the wallet in her hands when I hand her the money to pay.
To me, the entire conversation was reading unwanted male attention, but still being like the sort of pushy politeness common in Latin cultures. This plus the fact that men especially get whatever they want can make even everyday interactions feel like microaggressions.
They get closer, and I corner myself, hoping that if we look ugly enough, they'll leave us alone. My aunt is panicking and trying to throw them off our scent, and then Yellow locks onto me and says "Your not from around here.". A fact in his eyes. He's wrong, but not entirely, I'm not from town, and I don't live in Guatemala anymore.
I'm just interesting looking to most people.
My aunt interjects, because I'm kinda a bitch to men and at the time I wasn't aware but she was worried I'd get us shot or worse.
This is kinda when I start to realize something is Wrong. My mind starts racing and now I'm fully prepared to piss or shit myself to avoid being raped.
Then my mom comes in and saved the day.
Bless her.
She's this stout pretty looking woman, she's got this habit of being confrontational and kinda a bitch. She managed to save my grandma from getting murdered once, and the woman can take one look at you tell you how much you weigh and give you an estimate of how long it would take her to cut you up butcher style. It's her favorite party trick, and is honestly unnerving. She also has very low self esteem, and when her disabilities flare up even more so. Which makes her swooping in and saving us all the more impressive.
My mom maneuvers the car to get closer and asks us what's taking us so long. Just as it was time for our turn, I go into autopilot and start talking to a pharmacist I can't see. The lucky bastard is hidden behind a bullet proof wall. Just out luck, he has to search for an alternative medication.
Mother is trying to distract them, and figure put what's going to get them to stop bothering us. Blue shirt points out that the car she's driving, a Mercedes-Benz SUV is not a common site. European engines around here are not common, and a car is life and freedom. He starts asking about the car and who my mom is, and who we are. How much she'd sell the car for.
My aunt had purposely been avoiding sharing any identifiers, including my last name. While it does have sway, it's often not enough, and it can backfire since people believe my father's family has lots of money and is a proud bunch.
My mother, on the other hand, introduced herself with her household name. This made Yellow shirt pause, and Blue to stop leering at me. After some needling on both ends of the conversation, it turned out that Yellow shirt and I are distantly related.
This finally allowed me to slip past Blue shirt and into the car.
When we got to my grandma's, started properly freaking out. Turns out my mom was fully ready to give them the car in exchange for our lives.
My aunts husband was fully freaked out because apparently those men are like known criminals. Like deep into being Narcos lakeckeys. They aren't Narcos themselves, but they like orbit the same spaces. According to him.
Also NOTE DO NOT LET THIS DISCOURAGE YOU FROM TRAVELLING IN GAUTEMALA!
I DO NOT GO TO TOURIST ATTRACTIONS OFTEN, I EXIST IN PRIMAILY RURAL RESIDENTIAL AREAS OF A NON TOURIST DEPARTMENT. THE BIGGEST WORRY FOR TOURIST IN TOURIST AREAS ARE PICK POCKETS AND FOOD POSIONING!
BE SAFE!
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nephilim-tears · 2 years
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APRIL SHOWERS
ADRIAN CHASE X READER 
Warnings: F! Reader. Fingering.
↳ SMUT Fic ::  Here is short warm up fic I wrote inspired by the gifs and crappy weather instead of  doing the things I'm supposed to be doing. 
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You are responsible for the content you consume, as always read with care.
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A trail of steam followed him out of the bathroom into the bedroom. He expected to see her tucked safely and securely under the blankets where he left her but all that remained was an empty bed. He was extra quiet not to wake her up too; it wasn’t like her to be up early. The last place he thought he’d find her was standing on the balcony in his button-down black shirt. Her sleepy aesthetic was long gone, washed away by the early April rain that drenched her from head to toe. 
Adrian cautiously approached her keeping his footsteps light not wanting to disturb what seemed to be a private moment between her and the world. He took a seat on the wooden floor a few feet from her, staring at her staring at the city.
His eyes followed the outline of her bare legs watching the droplets slide off the smooth skin. The drenched fabric clung to her body doing little to nothing to hide her nipples pebbling in the cold. 
“Are you gonna kiss me goodbye or just sit there till you’re late?”
“I like the view plus I'm already late,” He wipes the lens of his prescription glasses ridding it of the fog then added, “They should invent little windshield wipers for my glasses.” 
 “I don’t think you’re supposed to wear them in the rain like that. Why don’t you ask Kevin to pick up a shift for you?”
Adrian narrowed his eyes at her, “I don’t trust guys named Kevin.” And he wasn't joking, he really didn’t trust guys named Kevin for whatever reason, no matter who the Kevin was. Everyone around him simply accepted it as a fact of life. 
“What about sick days?” she turned around and faced him fully offering her best pout. 
Between picking up extra shifts at work and vigilante duties, they hardly spent any time together for the past two weeks. How could he deny her something as simple as his company? The pitter-patter against the floor did not drive a hard bargain; track through the cold Washington grime all day alone in wet shoes or go back to bed and be warmed by his sweetheart? That’s a no-brainer. 
It was apparent he wasn’t planning on going to work judging by his comfortable man-spreading posture slumped against the rails of the balcony. If he decided to go now, his uniform would take ages to dry. Even so, he continued to banter with her as if he needed convincing, “I’ve given you all my sick days, those fuckers will be calling me to clock in after I’m dead.” 
“You look good wet,” The thought left his mouth before his brain could process it, “Like a mermaid. That makes me a perverted fisherman I think.” 
That’s not the strangest thing he’s ever said to her, “I’d totally let you fuck if I was a mermaid.” 
“How would that even work if you were a mermaid? You wouldn’t have a—”
Not giving him the opportunity to pounder mermaid physiology, she got on all fours crawling towards him till her nose bumped his, “Wouldn’t have a what Adrian?” 
“Wouldn’t have this…” He whispered pulling her back flush against his chest, spreading her legs open as he ran his hands up and down her inner thighs. 
“We should take this inside I don’t want you to get sick.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he responded, “I don’t mind, if you’re here I’m here. I heal freakishly fast anyways.” 
“You’re so pussy whipped.“
A smirk graced his lips as he leaned in closer near the shell of her ear and whispered, “Who wouldn’t be it's a pretty pussy.” Taking advantage of the proximity of his mouth, she tilted her head till she captured his lips in a sweet kiss. 
Adrian moaned into the kiss brushing the pads of his fingers against her outer folds occasionally sliding it towards her clit but never making contact with the bundle of nerves. The lack of panties was unsurprising to him. She hardly wore any at home. 
“Adri please…” Her voice met his ear in a low whimper as her chest heaved in anticipation. 
Never one to deny her anything she asked of him, he spread her pussy apart as wide as he’s able to with the wide span of his slender fingers, his thumb and middle finger kept her labia fully exposed while he petted her clit with his pointer finger. 
Adrian made no effort to further stimulate her, instead, he let the beads of cold droplets do the work, enjoying the way she jerked forward in response to the cold rain hitting the sensitive flesh. 
He tucked his head into her shoulder, eyes peering down at her body watching her exposed folds glisten and pulsate at the slightest contact of the slow and agonizing rain drumming on. 
“How long are you going to keep me like this?” She grunted in frustration. 
He peels the shirt off her shoulder scrunching it at her elbows watching the icy water dangle off the peak of her nipples with intensity, “Until I don’t feel like it.”
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could you write avengers x ocd!reader? 🥺 ty
I’d love to! I feel like OCD is such a stigmatized disorder, and I’ve been diagnosed myself. To make it more inclusive, I’ve done some extra research. This piece includes a few triggers like extreme Germaphobia, panic attacks, sensory symmetry, my safe numbers are anything divisible by five, my favorites are 10. 50, and 100, so for the sake of this sort, those are the numbers I’ll be using.
You were diagnosed with OCD at the age of 12
When you weren’t on your medication, your symptoms were pretty severe
You joined The Avengers at 13, and it’s been 2 years, so you were 15
You’d learned how to cope really well, but your symptoms fluctuated, and were often too much to handle without meds
Only Fury knew, and you asked him to keep it in between the two of you
He obliged, but advised you tell them eventually to prevent incidents
One day, you needed to go get your prescription refilled, but you were below the legal driving age
Instead of risking the reveal of your well guarded secret and asking someone to just take you to the pharmacy, which was, in no way, waking, flying, or running distance from the Compound
You decided to just suffer and get your prescription when you were in the city
You spent the next agonizing days in your room in fear of the rest of The Avengers thinking your routines, counting, taping, and whatnot was you just being a crazy teenager overreacting
Little did you know, all the time you’d been spending in your room was suspicious to the rest of the team and they began hypothesizing whatever you were doing in there for such a long amount of time
“I bet you she isn’t even in there!” -Sam
“She could be on her period or something.” -Tony
“Ew!” -Peter
“First of all, Tony, that’s inappropriate, secondly, Peter, don’t be immature it’s natural, thirdly, I’m with Sam she could be on one of her “teenage escapades”!” -Natasha
“What’re we taking about?” -Steve
“We’re trying to come up with reasons (Y/N) hasn’t left her room in a few days.” -Bucky
“Oh, my money’s on her being on her period.” -Steve
“EXACTLY.” -Tony
“S T E V E, NO.” -Natasha
“Instead of thinking about what she’s doing, why doesn’t someone check on her?” -Bruce
“Great. Thanks for volunteering Bruce!” -Tony
“But I didn’t-“ -Bruce
“I’ll go. I’m her favorite.” -Peter
“Only because you’re her age, spiderling.” -Tony
Peter went to your room, you didn’t respond, still worried about their judgement
“(Y/N), could you please let me in? I’m worried about you. Are you ok?” -Peter
On the verge of a panic attack “I’m ok! Please go away!” -you
“Ok, but can you come out later today? Please?”
“I’ll think about it.”
You were left alone until dinner
“(Y/N)! Dinner! I’ve got your favorite! If you come out you can have some!” -Bucky
Feeling better you decided to come out, as your symptoms had calmed down
You came and ate with the team, and they could tell your behavior was different
You washed your plate and silverware 5 times before you served yourself
You were counting things, and trying to tap things inconspicuously, which wasn’t working
You looked really grossed out when Sam sneezed and when Peter double-dipped the salsa (If you double-dip, and it isn’t your personal sauce/salsa/guacamole/etc. ew what’re you doing)
Natasha finally decided to break the tension
“(Y/N), why have you been in your room all week? Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Then why were you in your room? I bet on it being your period.” -Tony
“Dude, seriously? I wasn’t on my period. I’m fine.” -you snapped
“Are you sure?” -Steve
“I’m sure. Thanks for dinner.”
You went back to your room, and you already felt yourself getting riled up again. This was going to be a very long night
“She’s not ok.” -Peter
“Yeah, no duh. I’ll go check on her.” -Steve
Steve straight up walked into your room and found you in the middle of your bedtime routine
“Ever heard of privacy?” -you
“Nope. What’re you doing? And seriously, are you ok?” -Steve
He had good intentions, and you were done with the “I’m emotionally stable” charade, so you told the truth
He looked confused, and you immediately regretted E V E R Y T H I N G
“We can refill it tomorrow, I’ll drive you. You should’ve told us! We care about you and we wanna know what’s going on in your life. How about you tell the rest of the team?” -Steve
“Ughhhh fine.” -you
You told the rest of the team, and you watched as they exchanged money. Had they been betting on what you were doing?
“You guys are stupid.” -you
“We know.” -Sam
“Shut up Sam. You don’t need to hide stuff from us (Y/N).” -Natasha
“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want you guys to think I’m crazy or just being a moody teenager or something.”
“Hey, having OCD doesn’t make you crazy! If you ever need anyone to talk to, we’re always here.” -Tony
“Thanks guys. I’m going to bed now though. Nighhhttt.”
You left all of them in the common room, and you went to bed
You were thankful for their kind words and happy you could go get a refill
They always checked on you when you were feeling anxious
They could somehow tell when something that wasn’t OCD friendly was bothering you, and it was always fixed
BONUS YAYYYYAYAYAYAY
“So that was unexpected.” -Loki
“When in the hell did you get here?!?” -Steve
“Been here the whole time. Night!” -Loki
“Man that was a lot though.” Strange
“When did YOU get here?!?” -Steve
“20 minutes ago. Anyway, goodnight.” -Strange
“Ok, who else is here that wasn’t here for dinner?” -Steve
“Me!” -Zemo
“YOU’RE IN PRISON WHAT?!?”
Shoot this kinda turned into a story sorry guys
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troubatrain · 3 years
Text
taxi - j. markstrom
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a/n: i swore on my life i started writing this and then hours went by and it was done. by the way, aside from this song i still have yet to chose any players for the rest of this series and the google form is open for suggestions (it’s linked below) but anyways, i need to start by saying this got super personal for me and this showcases some of my own experiences with my own mental illness, and not everyone experiences those things the same way and i just want to remind everyone of that before they read! also, i definitely suggest listening to the song while reading it because it just feels right.
i need to tag @danglesnipecelly​ because k wrote a matty fic and in turn i’m legally required to write a marky fic
part of my lovely little lonely series
tw: mentions of depression, mentions of post-partum depression
“...and in the backseat, when you asked me, is the sadness everlasting? i pulled you closer, looked at you and said love, I think it is...” - Taxi - The Maine
Jacob wasn’t sure when things had gotten so bad.
You were doing better, and Jacob even thought you were doing better than before. You’d been going to therapy again regularly, less of Jacob forcing you to go for his sake and more of going by your own will. You were back on your meds, but even you admitted they felt like they might have been working this time around now that you found the right fit. The adjustment to your new surroundings in Calgary seemed to be going smoothly, spending time with Annica and Elias like you weren’t constantly battling with your own demons.
But god you were.
Jacob honestly thought you were braver than anyone he’s ever known. You met a few years back, when you used to throw on a smile just to walk out the door and Jacob was just starting to make a splash in Vancouver. He was the only person who seemed to notice you in the large crowd you were who was mingling with a few of his teammates. He knew you were something special in that moment, and he’d tell you everyday until you started to believe it. What he didn’t know at the time was, you’d just gotten diagnosed with depression and you were tackling it on your own. Not a soul knew about the days you couldn’t wait to sleep because it was the only time you were able to turn your brain off. They didn’t know about the mess in your apartment that was so embarrassing but you still just couldn’t clean it. And they definitely didn’t know about the long drives where you just thought about never coming back.
Jacob didn’t know these things for a while, but when the signs became clear, he tried his hardest to understand. He came over and cleaned your apartment when you were at work, shrugging it off when you asked him what prompted him to do it. Jacob made sure you were taken care of on days he knew you weren’t able to do it yourself.
Then the east coast road trip happened.
Your relationship was new, and you hadn’t told him what was going on even though it was becoming incredibly clear that he knew. Jacob has always been patient, and you always joke it’s because he’s a goalie, but the truth was that his heart was bigger than him. You called him, teary eyed while you sat on a park bench in the middle of Vancouver and told him you couldn’t do this anymore. At first he thought you were talking about him, maybe he’d overstepped a line he shouldn’t have, but it was clear you meant life. It was just too much, and Jacob knew it was time to push talking about it.
So you did, you laid there in the bitter cold on that bench until the sun came up and talked to him about your mental illness. You talked about your therapist who you’d been seeing but you were honest about the appointments you skipped. You talked to him about the full pill bottles in your bathroom because you didn’t want to take them but you didn’t want anyone to notice you weren’t picking up prescriptions. He was calm, listening to your words and not reprimanding you on the stall in your recovery.
Everyone moves at their own pace Y/N, you can move like a turtle if you want to and I won’t tell you to hurry up and get better.
Jacob never pushed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t educate himself. He read and read and read, everything he could on how he was supposed to help
you. He took classes, he listened to talks and he’d even attended meetings with other people who were in his same position. He wanted to understand, and he did his best to. Jacob did this because he loves you, and he wanted to make sure that was never going to be something you could question.
So that brings him here, standing in your shared bathroom while he counted how many pills were left in that orange bottle and he just knew the math wasn’t going to add up. Jacob runs a large hand over his face, rubbing his temples while he spun out about how this could be his fault. Maybe he should have stayed in Vancouver. Was the change too much for you?
“Babe?” You call out, leaning against the bathroom door and looking at him sadly. Your voice was soft, it always was, like Jacob being in distress was more important than the hell he’d seen you go through.
“Have you been skipping days?” Jacob asks, never with an accusatory tone. He learned that lesson, watching you shrink at his words when he asked if you’d been in bed all day. You start to utter an apology, Jacob raising his hand at you to stop because you didn’t owe him one, “Why didn’t you call?”
Tears were welling up in your eyes, your lip quivering while you tried to find the right words. Jacob didn’t look mad, he wasn’t - he was feeling guilty. He promised you, if you called it didn’t matter if he was in the middle of a game, he’d be there as soon as he could, “You need to be with your new team-”
“Fuck my new team,” Jacob scoffs, shaking his head and opening his arms to you, “You think I’d want to spend any more time with Elias than you?”
“No, I just,” You sigh, pushing a piece of your hair back that seemed to just fall back into place, “I didn’t want to be a bother, you need to be with these guys all the time and how can you do that if you’re worried about me?”
“I can do that because I want to do it,” Jacob reminds you, pushing that same piece of hair back where it belonged, and it stuck, “I don’t feel like I have to worry about you, I want to.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier not to?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jacob’s waist and pressing your head into his chest. His heartbeat was steady, he was steady.
Jacob was the most stable thing you had in your life. You couldn’t figure what you’d done to experience unconditional love like that, a person to care for you so much that they would do anything to make you happy. He calmed you on the days you needed most and he never pushed you harder than he thought you needed. Turtle speed. He always called it that, but he’d rather see you move slowly to get better than throw on another fake smile.
“My life wouldn’t be easier if you weren’t in it,” Jacob hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Do you want me to set out your meds for the week? In that little container I got you?”
You nod, making a promise to yourself to take the step in getting better. Jacob reminded you constantly, you can’t do this for him, you needed to do it for yourself - he was just helping. He was always going to help.
***
You seemed better.
Jacob swore you were actually doing okay, the little check ins he was doing was working and when he got back from his next road trip - nothing seemed wrong. You were standing across Johnny’s house, laughing along with Annica and a few other girls and Jacob knew that laugh was a real one. This was good, seeing you out laughing and smiling.
“So, when is it going to be time for you?” Annica asks, her hand running over your ring finger, “Marky has to be thinking about having a few running around soon.”
You wish it hadn’t set you off. It was a simple question anyone would ask a couple who’s been together this long.
Children was a conversation you weren’t ready for. The thought terrified you, not because you didn’t want to have them, it was the post-partum talk. You knew the risks, all of the things that could happen after and you didn’t want to stomach that. What if you weren’t enough for your kids? They didn’t ask for a mother who couldn’t get out of bed sometimes let alone take care of them, and you’d be insane to think that was a healthy way to raise a child.
Jacob’s eyes remained on you while you rushed out of the house, fiddling with your hands and shaking your head. That was your tell, and Jacob excused himself immediately, chasing you out of the house. His hands grab your cheeks, steadying you for a moment and wiping the tears from your eyes.
“She asked me when we were going to the marriage and kids thing and,” You ramble out, closing your eyes and shutting your mouth. Jacob knew where you were going with this, it was fear he had too. It was the reason there was a ring in one of his coat pockets at home that’s never been opened because he was waiting for the right time. He’d wait forever if he had to. You were the one there was never a doubt about it.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Jacob sighs, knowing this conversation was far too heavy to be had in public, “But, you’ll never be alone, I’m never going to leave, I’m never going to pressure you into anything. When you’re ready I will be too, but I don’t care how long it takes.”
“What if it’s too late for kids?” You whisper, the fear that Jacob could tell you he’d wait forever but you’d seen him with kids, he was made to be a father.
“We can adopt, foster, whatever you want,” Jacob assures you, the idea of having children never had to be biological to him, “Chucky asked me if we were looking to adopt the other day…”
You let out a laugh, looking and pressing your lips to Jacob’s. You couldn’t thank him enough, not like he’d ever let you, but he was so good. You leaned your head on his shoulder, watching Calgary pass you by while Jacob hums to the radio next to you in the cab to get home.
“You think I’ll always be like this?” You ask, a question that could have been for either of you.
“There’s always going to be bad days, but you’re never going to be alone on them. I promise.”
“Turtle speed?”
“Turtle speed.”
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fics-of-my-mind · 3 years
Text
Trust - Chapter XIV.
'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.
'I need you- I-,'
'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'
'Nick-'
'There is one rule, though, that I want you to keep tonight,' he continued, dismissing my desperation, his tongue drawing circles on my skin, just above the line of my panties between every word, while his hands were caressing my behind and my thighs.
I was kind of in awe of him for being able to keep his cool, even though he must've been just as desperate as I was. Even in this state he treasured the control he had over me, and wouldn't give it up for anything.
'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.
'No holding back,' he announced, then he started sucking on my skin. I felt like I was going to explode right away. He was so close to where I wanted him the most, his fingers making their way up to the white lace, hoovering just above my most sensitive part, yet he wouldn't give it to me, not yet. 'I want you to come as many times as you can.'
Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth
I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.
Chapter XIV. - Oh I'm not playing any games tonight
It didn't really take me long to forget everything that happened in the bathroom. Two gin and tonics later, when Nick found me, the moment he placed his hand on my waist, guiding me towards the entrance, my mind was once again only concentrated on him, and the wetness between my legs.
Maybe Demi was right and he was going to break my heart, but I didn't care at the moment, not at all. The only thing on my mind was that this is it, we were finally going to sleep together.
After gathering our phones, we got into a black car, and started heading somewhere, I guessed that my apartment. Nick was holding onto my hand through the whole ride, but he didn't look at me, keeping his glance on the outside world. I'm sure that it was only to drive me even crazier.
I just wasn't able to calm down. My mind, my body, my whole being was constantly focused on him and nothing else. The way his fingers skinned my hand, the fact that he was extremely close, the dirty thoughts about wanting to hop onto his lap... it was all too much.
'We should talk about a few... technical things,' Nick announced unexpectedly somewhere midway.
'Now?' I asked, raising my eyebrow. I did not want to talk, not now, not so close to finally doing what I've only been dreaming about so far.
'Now,' he nodded, his handsome face strict and serious. 'The minute we are behind closed doors... I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you for a second.' I swallowed, looking at him, my insides warming just from the promise in his voice.
'What do you want to talk about?' I asked, swallowing, as Nick took one of my hands in his.
'When things get intense - not specifically tonight, but whenever,' he started, lowering his voice so the driver couldn't hear it. 'I want you to have a safe word. Have you thought about that?'
'Yes,' I nodded immediately. We've touched on the topic a few days ago, Nick just out of nowhere telling me to start thinking about a safe word that I'm comfortable using. It was surprisingly challenging. 'I did come up with a word that I think is great.'
'What is it?' Nick asked, his voice full of interest.
'Light,' I said, biting my lip. 'Your first words to me back in Barcelona were 'Do you need light?', and it's just-'
'It's perfect,' he nodded, his eyes darkening a bit. 'Whenever you don't feel comfortable with what's happening, even if it's just a slight discomfort, I want you to use that word and I stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings, no consequences, we'll just stop. Promise me that you'll use it when you need it, Milla.'
'I promise,' I nodded, looking deeply into Nick's eyes, even though I was sure I'd avoid using that word for however long I could. I just didn't want to say it, I trusted Nick that he won't do anything I'd feel uncomfortable with.
'Now the other thing,' he started, still holding my hand. 'Protection. I know that you haven't been sexually active lately, so I guess-'
'When I first saw you in the club,' I started, cutting into his words. I could feel the redness making its way onto my cheeks, and I had to turn my eyes away from him. I don't know why I felt embarrassed about this, but I did. 'I went and got a prescription. I've been on the pill for the last few weeks.'
'Oh.' Was all Nick said at first, but he raised his free hand to my cheek, making our eyes connect once again. His dark brown orbs were glistering in the semi-darkness as he looked at me. 'Why?'
'I don't know-, I guess just the idea of us being in the same city and having a bigger chance at this happening,' I started, gesturing between us with my fingers. 'I just hated the idea of if it ever comes to sex, there would still have to be a little piece of rubber keeping us apart.'
My whole face was flushed at this point, but as much as I wanted to turn my glance away, Nick wouldn't let me.
'You know I'm usually a 'no glove, no fun' guy... But honestly, it was making me feel crazy, the thought of not being able to fully feel you around me,' he said, chuckling a little. 'So I adore you for thinking ahead.'
He pulled me closer, connecting our lips, but not deepening the kiss this time.
The rest of the car ride went like a blur.
I was pretty surprised when about twenty minutes later the car stopped somewhere in Downtown LA, in front of a pretty tall apartment building.
'Where are we?' I asked Nick.
'Joe and I used to live here together. Never sold the apartment, we kept it for occasions when, for example we were too drunk to make our way home, or we needed some alone time. In the past few years we only used it for writing,' he explained before getting out of the car and holding the door open for me.
I didn't even remember the ride upstairs, all I could concentrate on was Nick's hand laced through mine. We were in public – at least public enough that a bunch of people could see us, including the doorman and a few residents – yet Nick wouldn't let me go, not even when I tried pulling away when a woman stepped into the elevator with us.
He knew I was frustrated and he was enjoying it way too much, the smirk on his face told me. Little fucker, I didn't know what his game was.
The apartment was beautiful, I found myself in complete awe. It wasn't unnecessarily big, like most A-list celeb's properties, the living area had huge floor to ceiling windows with a view to downtown LA, there was a comfortable looking white couch in the middle and also a beautiful piano, something I'm sure Nick spent a lot of time with.
Black and white dominated in the place, both in furniture and accessories. There was a huge dining table separating the living area from the kitchen, which was also beautiful, with black build-in counters. Nick didn't turn on the light, only the built-in fireplace, so the whole room was in semi-darkness. Still, it was beautiful.
Not even looking back to see if Nick was following me, I walked to the huge windows, the view taking my breath away. It was like one of those apartments that I've only seen in movies before, since in my country skyscrapers and floor to ceiling windows in apartment buildings weren't really a thing.
'So beautiful,' I said, taking in all of the lights of the city, the traffic, the moon.
'Yes, it is,' Nick replied, standing a few steps behind me. I could feel his gaze on the back of my head, and something told me, he wasn't necessarily talking about the city lights.
I took a deep breath before turning around and finally facing him. Nick's eyes were darker than usual, almost black as they glistered in the semi-darkness of the room. There wasn't much light, only the moon and the lights of the city brightened somewhat the otherwise dark apartment.
Nick looked amazing, the semi-darkness giving his handsome face a rough edge, making him all mysterious. His lips were inviting as they slightly parted, and I could barely look away from them.
This was it.
The way his intense gaze imprisoned mine, it made my breath get caught in my throat. Thousands of emotions filled my heart as his darkened orbs slid to my lips for a moment, then back to my eyes. The minute of longing for each other seemed extremely long, yet equally exciting and arousing. Then, Nick got bored of just looking and finally closed the distance between us.
This kiss was not a bit gentle or innocent. Everything was in it: the months of waiting, of not crossing the line, to the freedom of us finally being able to do whatever we wanted to do with each other. The extremely deep feelings we've grown for each other, the need of touching, of owning the other, the hunger that would've eaten us if we had to wait any longer.
Nick's fingers pushed into the skin of my waist roughly, definitely leaving a mark, which just made me pull him closer by the back of his head even harder. He didn't really ask for permission with his tongue, not that he had to, he could do whatever he pleased with me. He was everywhere, his unique minty scent in my nose, his sweet taste in my mouth, his hands all around my body: on my waist, ass, thighs, hair.
Finally being this close to him, I couldn't hold myself back. It's been a long while since I've had sex in the first place, and it seemed like an eternity since I've been longing for him. My hands tried gripping onto his hair, pulling on it not a bit gently as Nick let me catch my breath and let go of my lips, yet started pampering my neck with kisses.
I couldn't hold back a moan, when he started sucking on the thin skin of my neck, just above my vein, my nails digging into his upper arm when he bit down, definitely marking me with bruises. It was all so sexy.
I was the first one to start to undress him, as I pushed the material of his jacket off his shoulders. I needed to feel Nick, I needed his skin on mine. My fingers were trembling from the desire, but I only got to unbutton two of the buttons on his shirt when he pushed my hands away. I looked at Nick with a confused expression on my face, but he didn't feel the need to say anything. He unzipped my dress without ever turning me around or even looking, his lips making their way to my shoulders which gave me massive goosebumps.
When he smoothed my dress to the ground, he pulled away a bit, eyeing my body up and down, his eyes engorging a bit as he took in my white, lacy bra and panties set. I choose this on purpose, the memory of our talk about lingerie was still vividly in my head. His eyes were full of lust, and he ran his hands from my waist to the side of my chest, his palms resting on my ribcage on both sides, while his fingers grazing the lace of the white bra.
'I'm truly intrigued,' Nick mumbled, still not turning his gaze away from my body. The feeling of being shy or embarrassed didn't find me this time, and I didn't even flinch when he pulled me closer so our lower bodies were touching and I could definitely feel his excitement against my abdomen. 'So pure. And all for me.'
I swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge of proving him that I'm not that innocent. Unexperienced, sure, but innocent? No. Nick, the Nick in his right mind knew this, but this Nick, the man of lust didn't care. He saw me as pure, which made me feel slight embarrassment and extreme happiness at the same time, I couldn't perfectly describe it.
Running a hand to his chin, I made him look into my eyes, and felt myself become even more overwhelmed by all of the things I felt and that I saw in Nick's dark orbs. This time I was the one to connect our lips, kissing him heatedly, while my fingers returned to unbuttoning his shirt and finally succeeding. When our hot skin finally touched, Nick groaned and I softly bit his lower lip. I could feel his smirk, but didn't say anything, just ran my fingers down to his chest and back, exploring every inch of him.
Suddenly it wasn't enough. I needed Nick, wanted him so hard that I've never felt anything like this in my whole life. The kiss grew much more desperate as there was even less keeping our parts from touching. Just as I slipped my fingers into the buckle of his leather belt, Nick pushed my hands away once more.
'Nick,' I moaned into his mouth. Nick just smirked, holding my wrists in one hand, while unclasping my bra with the other. He kissed down from my lips along the side of my neck to my breasts, running his tongue down between them. When his lips found my left nipple, I moaned, my body arching against him. His hand never left my right breast, playing with my nipple, pulling it, squeezing it. The tingling between my legs was getting worse, I could feel myself dripping. I needed Nick not to just play with my body, but finally touch me where I wanted him the most.
He pushed me against the huge floor to ceiling window, his lips never leaving my chest area. The cold of the glass and the hotness of our bodies made me shiver - or was it the sea of emotions making goosebumps reappear on my skin? Nick continued his journey, his lips kissing downwards from my breasts, along my stomach, as he lowered himself onto his knees.
Seeing Nick kneeling in front of me, looking up cheekily, with a very promising glance made me want to crawl out of my skin. I felt like nothing was enough, not until we were fully united, until there was nothing between us. I groaned, my hands running into his hair as Nick carefully lifted each of my legs and made me step out of the heels I didn't even remember were still on.
I felt such love for him, I almost said it out loud, even though my mind successfully stopped me. I couldn't say it, not yet anyways. There was this pride in me, wanting to hear him say it first.
When he broke our gaze and softly kissed my abdomen, I moaned quite loudly.
'Patience, Dear,' Nick chuckled, but his voice was much deeper than before, full of desire.
'I need you- I-,'
'And you'll get me. But no rush. I plan on savoring every moment of this night given that I've been waiting for so long.'
'Nick-'
'There is one rule, though, that I want you to keep tonight,' he continued, dismissing my desperation, his tongue drawing circles on my skin, just above the line of my panties between every word, while his hands were caressing my behind and my thighs.
I was kind of in awe of him for being able to keep his cool, even though he must've been just as desperate as I was. Even in this state he treasured the control he had over me, and wouldn't give it up for anything.
'What?' I groaned, not feeling the mood to keep up with his rules, not tonight, not right before I actually had the chance to have him fully.
'No holding back,' he announced, then he started sucking on my skin. I felt like I was going to explode right away. He was so close to where I wanted him the most, his fingers making their way up to the white lace, hoovering just above my most sensitive part, yet he wouldn't give it to me, not yet. 'I want you to come as many times as you can.'
Before I had the chance to react, his fingers finally pushed against me, touching me through the panties. I knew he could feel how ready I already was for him, the smug smirk on his face spoke for itself. I felt myself go crazy, the sensations of Nick's fingers moving against my panties, creating friction. If the window wasn't pressed against my back, I'm sure that my legs would've given out. I tried to move my hips, so his fingers would press harder, but Nick's other hand found my waist and pushed my body back, keeping me in place with force. I moaned desperately. His lips lowered, avoiding the textile and founding their way to my thighs, kissing them, biting them.
I moaned his name as he lifted one of my legs, placing it on his shoulder, so he could continue his sweet torture on the sensitive inner thighs, meanwhile his fingers were still pressed lightly against my lady parts. Nick wasn't gentle, and I didn't want him to be. When he started sucking harshly on the thin skin of my thighs, marking me there, I felt myself lose my mind completely. I couldn't concentrate on anything else, but the need for him. I was squirming against him, trying to get out of his hold and pressing my body against him harder, but Nick was much stronger, as he kept me from moving around too much.
It seemed like an eternity later when he finally made his way upwards and kissed me through the lingerie, one of his hands making its way to my ass and pulling me towards his face, while the other still pushing on my waist and keeping me from moving too much. I suddenly started regretting the white underwear, Nick seemed to like it way too much, and he still wasn't taking it off of me. I desperately wanted it gone, I wanted to feel his lips directly against my clit.
He did kiss me at least. As his tongue pushed against my panties, tasting me through the lacy material, I needed to take one hand from his hair and use it to keep my stance, trying to find a grip on the glass behind me.
'So sweet,' he mumbled, not moving his head from my sensitive parts, so his words were creating vibrations, making me shiver.
'Nick, please,' I moaned, when he started sucking on my clit hardly. I was a mess, in my right mind I probably would've felt embarrassed, but now I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was Nick and how much I wanted him.
'Since you asked so nicely', he said, and pulled his hand from my behind, moving the thong to the side without taking it off. His hungry lips found my clit immediately, and I'm pretty sure I screamed from the sensation. I was so close. 'So fucking ready for me already,' Nick groaned as he ran a finger along my slit, now feeling my pooling wetness directly. When he inserted a finger into me, I felt my walls clench around him, the feeling of a man touching me last time only being a faded memory for my senses. As his lips returned to my clit and his tongue started drawing circles on it, I could feel myself relax, and clearly so did Nick, since he started rhythmically moving his finger in and out. When he inserted another finger, I saw stars. All the sensations, his fingers moving in and out of me, getting me ready for him, his tongue lapping against my wetness, his lips occasionally sucking on my clit, brought me so close to the edge, that when Nick - very intentionally - curled his fingers inside me, making me feel things I've never really felt before, I exploded.
I don't think I ever had an orgasm so intense. Maybe it was all the waiting, or the fact that it was Nick, pushing me to the land of bliss, maybe just the length of time it's been since I've had any kind of sex with another man... I felt like it lasted for at least two minutes. Nick let me ride every last wave of my orgasm, never pulling away, letting me come down while lapping my juices with his tongue. When eventually he did pull away, my wetness was all evident on his face, and he never looked hotter. I carefully removed my leg from his shoulder, and pulled him up to me by the back of his hair. His hands snaked around my waist as he kissed me, making me taste myself on his lips. His tongue made its way into my mouth, dancing with mine as I ran my fingers through the back of his hair.
'You're so fucking beautiful,' he mumbled against my lips when pulling away to catch his breath. As I came to my senses, I suddenly realized that Nick was still wearing his jeans, and by the hardness pressing against my abdomen, I'm sure it couldn't be comfortable for him.
I ran a hand down to his back, feeling his muscles clench under my fingers, which made me feel hot again instantly. My other hand made his way down his chest, finding his half-undone belt and successfully finishing the job. My lips moved down along his chin, finding his neck, and running my tongue along it. I needed to use both of my hands to unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, but when I finally did it, Nick sighed in relief. Without taking it off, I dipped one of my hands in his Calvin Klein boxers, and closed my fingers around his manhood.
He was rock hard and honestly I had no idea how he was still in control of everything. I felt the veins on his shaft throbbing against my palm. I needed to taste him, but as soon as I started lowering myself to the ground, Nick's strong hands caught me by the elbow and stopped me from moving.
'I want to taste you,' I whined pulling my lips from his body so I could look him in the eyes, his cock in my mouth being the main thing on my mind. I told him before how much I liked giving blowjobs, he knew well that I didn't just want to do it because I thought of it as an expectation from me.
'I know, and believe me, I really want your sweet little mouth around me too,' he nodded swallowing as he lowered his gaze to my lips. 'But I also want this to last pretty long and that's just not going to happen with you sucking my dick like a good little whore.' I looked at him for a moment, a little bit taken aback by the rawness of words. I never thought I was one for dirty talk, yet as Nick pronounced the words, they did not feel that dirty at all. They were just something that made the wetness start pooling between my legs once again. Nick waited patiently for my reaction to his words, but when I wasn't cringing or grimacing, he seemed pretty satisfied with himself. I had no idea how he had this restraint, how he wasn't going crazy yet. 'Later, I promise.'
I nodded without thinking, not really seeing a point in arguing with him on this. Instead, I connected our lips again, as Nick took his pants and underwear off, letting it fall on the floor to the pool of our clothes. However, I did not remove my hand from his hard shaft, running it along his length, until the moment he swatted it away after moaning in my mouth.
'Jump.' As much as I felt like opposing, I wasn't in the state to deny anything from Nick, so I just jumped, our naked parts finally pushing against each other, though not in the way I really-really wanted them to.
Walking into one of the bedrooms, he laid me down to the huge bed, our lips not leaving each other for a second. Nick was the only thing on my mind, just like he wanted to be. All I could think about was the heat radiating from his body, the feeling of his stubble under my fingertips, the hairs of his thigh tickling my smooth skin. The need for him stronger and stronger in my lower region. And the way he touched me so possessively, yet so gently that made my heart throb for him even more.
He lowered me onto the bed gently, then while he was kneeling on the mattress, pulled back, looking down onto me, examining every part of my body. I should've felt insecure, or awkward, yet I didn't even try to cover up my not so beautiful parts.
It was like my subconscious trusted Nick so much that it didn't see the need to feel shame at all. Like I was giving myself to him fully, completely on a whole new physical and psychological level.
Nick's dark orbs ran along my body, exploring every inch, every curve. He wasn't touching me at all, yet I felt like he was crawling inside of me. As much as I used to hate certain parts, like the lines on my sides or my way too wide thighs, even my larger than normal breasts, as Nick's eyes were glistering with lust while examining them, I instantly found myself growing a newfound liking for those parts.
I tried to read his eyes as he was towering over me, they were quite talkative. They were full of lust, need, contempt, and a few other emotions that I couldn't put my finger on.
I mirrored his actions, looking down on his body that I still found amazing. He was exactly like I've wanted my man muscular but not too much, hairy but not too much.
'Nick...' I moaned, suddenly reminded of my need for him as his eyes dropped to between my legs. Nick shook his head, like he was shaken out of trans, then he immediately leaned down above me, connecting our lips once again.
I kissed him hungrily, my hands crawling onto his shoulder muscles, pulling him as close as possible. Meanwhile he pushed one of his thighs upwards, rubbing it against my heat and making me immediately moan against his lips. He made me feel such lust and need that I've never felt before. My skin was burning everywhere we touched and every other part of me felt cold compared to it. I was going crazy, not being able to concentrate on anything else but him, his body pushed against mine, his hand on my breast, his lips sucking on the skin of my neck.
I wanted him inside of me, needed him inside of me. He was right, these past weeks made me even crazier, my longing for him got worse, all I could concentrate was the things he was doing to my body and mind.
My breath got caught in my throat as Nick rubbed his thigh against my sensitive parts even harder. I was sure that my wetness was all over him, not that he seemed to mind it at all. As I unintentionally pushed my nails into his muscular back, scratching his skin, Nick groaned, biting my neck just above my vein, making me gasp.
'Hands above your head,' he said, and the authority was evident in his voice even in his current state. As much as I hated letting go of him, I did exactly as he commanded, raising both of my hands above my head and trying to find a hold on the silk sheets.
Nick seemed satisfied as he returned to sucking onto my neck and making me moan in need for him. I could feel the smirk ok his face as he kissed down to my chest, replacing his hand on my hard nipple with his lips. As his teeth grazed the sensitive buds, I felt like I was going crazy.
I was a moaning mess by that point, and I was grateful that nobody but Nick could hear me. As his fingers pushed against my clit again, my body tensed against him and I couldn't stop my hands from finding their way into his hair again.
'Milla,' Nick groaned and pulled away from my breasts, raising his glance to mine. His eyes were clouded, darker than usual, and his expression was clearly unimpressed with my misdemeanor. 'Behave.'
'I can't, I need you,' I whined, not making any effort to remove my hands from his hair. I was hungry for him, for every touch and his now still fingers on my most sensitive part didn't really help. I instinctively ground against him, trying to create some friction to ease my need.
Nick was not happy, his expression was strict and he instantly removed his fingers from between my legs. The desperate whine got caught in my throat in the next moment at the unexpected slap on my ass - a part that he had great access to given that my leg was wrapped around his torso.
I was a bit shocked, my face turned into a frown, but as the sweet burning sensation took over the place of the painful sting, I found myself wanting more. It was turning me on - even though I didn't think that there was more place for me to be turned on. Nick carefully examined my face, waiting for my reaction, but when I reached up to him and reconnected our lips, I could feel him relax against me.
Kissing Nick was like finding myself in a completely different world, where nothing existed but the softness of his lips, his stubble grazing my face and his sweet taste on my tongue. It was easy to forget about everything else and just pulling him as close to me as possible.
I was reminded of his feelings about my disobedience with another sting on my behind, this one even harder than the previous one, making me moan into his mouth.
'Don't make me tie those hands,' he groaned, his voice raspy, full with passion. The next moment he removed my hands from his hair, and held them above my head, this time not letting them go.
'Please Nick,' I moaned, feeling his erection press against my abdomen. I physically didn't feel able to hold on much longer, every inch of my body was burning, and the need concentrated in my core.
Nobody has ever made me feel like this, such a mess, so hungry for pleasure. I really felt like I was going to explode in seconds from all of the feelings, especially if Nick kept on torturing me any longer.
'Please what?' he asked, pulling a bit back, only to be able to look into my eyes. He was enjoying this, I could tell, even if he was just as hungry for me as I was for him.
'I need you,' I moaned, not impressed with our current situation. I tensed against him, as Nick was holding my wrists strongly above my head I wasn't able to touch him. One of my legs was still wrapped around his torso though, but tightening that hold only meant that his hardness would press harder against my abdomen - so close yet so far from where I wanted him to be.
'You need me where?' he asked, and I hated that he was still able to hold onto the control. Nick was enjoying this way too much, he was making me say it out loud.
'Inside of me,' I said, squirming under him, my hard nipples pushing against his chest. 'Please- please fuck me.'
I didn't even care that I was begging to be fucked like a whore. I just needed him and I couldn't think of anything else. The only things I could concentrate was the burn between my legs, his firm hold on my wrists, his chest hairs tickling my breasts and his hard erection pushing against me.
Nick rearranged his pose, so he was keeping my wrists in their place by holding them both in one hand and pulled away with his whole body slightly. Just as I was about to complain, I felt his erection against my clit and I forgot to breathe for a moment.
I raised my head, trying to see our lower parts. Nick didn't push in yet, he was keeping his manhood pushed against my throbbing core, moving it along my slit, making my lower body instinctively squirm against him. He seemed so big against me.
I've seen Nick naked before, I knew that he was blessed with a relatively big size, but somehow it never even crossed my mind that I will need to be able to take his size inside of me. Not that I was worried at all, I was sure that I was so wet and so ready for him that it wouldn't really be a problem. Still, seeing him push against me, making me even more crazy than before, I was just a tiny bit afraid of the pain.
'Eyes on me, Kamilla,' he ordered and I dropped my head back on the mattress, reconnecting our glances. By that point my body was squirming constantly and I couldn't stop myself from fidgeting. 'I want to see you when I take you.'
It was so incredibly hot, his raspy voice, the way he was still in control of not just himself but me too. His eyes were cloudy, and it took a moment for me to recognize the emotion in them: primal thirst. Even though it wasn't possible, I wanted him even more.
'Nick–' I started when he still wouldn't quit teasing, but then a loud moan slipped out of my mouth the moment I felt the stretch as he finally pushed in. I wanted to close my eyes, just until I adjusted, but his gaze held mine captive as he pulled out, then pushed back in again, much deeper this time. My lips parted as my body tensed at the long-felt feeling.
It was like my body didn't know what to feel, so I felt everything at once. The stretching feeling was quite uncomfortable given that it's been a long while since I've had sex, and thanks to Nick's massive size, I'd say that it was even painful at first. At the same time every inch of my body was on fire, I was hungry for him and I wanted him even deeper. I was so close to coming, but still so far, it didn't make sense at all.
I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from wincing as Nick pulled out for the second time, only to fill me up completely a second later. An animalistic groan escaped him, I imagine everything must've been so tight for him. Even though he was waiting for this for months now, and he was just as gone, wanting to come as I was, he stayed completely still.
'Shhh,' he hushed when he felt my body tense against him and placed his free hand onto my waist, drawing small circles on my skin. He leaned his forehead against mine, still looking so deeply into my eyes that I felt like he could see into my soul. 'Are you okay?' he asked, sincerely, and I was sure that if I told him 'no', he'd pull out and wouldn't blame me for a moment, even if it physically pained him.
'Move,' I asked quietly, because even though I was in some pain, the lust for him was much bigger. Nick kept my gaze for a few moments longer, his fingers never stopping their calming movement on my hip. I pulled him closer with my leg still wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to move. He closed the distance between us, connecting our lips and only when I kissed him back hungrily did he start moving.
The first few thrusts were quite painful, but as I grew accustomed to his size stretching me so deeply, the ache for him was back. When his fingers slipped down to my clit from my waist, I couldn't even remember the pain anymore. He knew exactly what he was doing, I was so close to coming that I had to hold myself back.
'Stop doing that.' Of course, he noticed, and that's when I remembered tonight's rule: to come as many times as possible. 'Let go,' he commanded and with the next, particularly deep thrust and his fingers still circling with my clit, I was gone.
I exploded against him, and I could feel my walls pulsing around his manhood, making Nick groan and drop his head to the crook of my neck. I saw stars, I was coming so hard that I even forgot to breathe. Nick never slowed down, he kept his rhythm and let me ride my orgasm out completely, while he – not so softly – bit the side of my shoulder.
'Fuck,' I moaned at the sharp pain, but Nick was way past the state to care. He was marking me as his, and even though I was sure I'd have some difficulties in the next few days to cover up all the marks, they were a huge turn on for me.
The next moment Nick pulled out of me, only to turn me slightly on my side and reenter me again, making me scream at the sensation. He felt even bigger this way, stretching me all the way.
'So fucking deep,' he groaned, one of his hands still holding my wrists in their place, while the other pushing into my thigh to keep me in the pose he wanted. He was close, I could tell. Sweat was beading on his forehead, he was getting a bit sloppy. All that could be heard in the room were my moans, his animalistic groans and our skins slapping against each other.
He took a hard rhythm, not soft at all and he wasn't slowing down. I was whimpering, my lady parts still sensitive from my orgasm, but Nick's rhythmical thrusts made me want even more. Somehow I managed to free my hand, but the moment I touched his upper arm, I was greeted with a sharp sting of his palm against my ass.
The feeling was even more intense with him inside of me, and Nick must've noticed my walls contracting around his shaft as well. He didn't try to get my hand back into its place, rather he spanked me a few more times, getting me close to coming again.
'Nick, I–' I moaned, turning my face so I could kiss him again. He felt it too.
'With me,' he groaned and with the last of his stamina, he sped his thrusts up even more, sending me over the edge a third time that night and following me a moment later with a deep grunt.
I felt him twitching and then filling me up with his everything, which was an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome sensation. With a last thrust Nick collapsed above me, laying his weight on my body completely.
I felt owned. I shouldn't have enjoyed it, I shouldn't have felt good about being marked, about Nick coming inside of me. In my life, I've always been an independent woman, but with him everything was different. The bite marks on my neck, the hickeys on my chest, the palm prints on my ass, the semen running down my legs... It all should've repulsed me, yet they just made me want Nick even more.
It took him a few minutes to gather himself and pull out of me, leaving me feeling empty. He didn't go far though, only to get a cloth and clean us both up a little. Then he laid back beside me and pulled me onto his chest.
'I get it now,' I mumbled against his chest as he ran a hand through my hair.
'Get what, Dear?' he asked quietly. I turned my head to be able to look at his face.
'This is what it's supposed to feel like,' I explained, referring back to one of our old conversations when Nick said that I clearly have never had great sex or I'd know what I'm missing.
'Actually, no,' he shook his head softly. 'This isn't what it's supposed to feel like.'
'What do you mean?' I frowned.
'This was... I never felt anything like this,' Nick admitted. I looked at him for a long moment, then leaned closer in order to connect our lips. So it wasn't just me. 'I don't know what this was, but you and me...' he left the end of the sentence hanging. I could finish it in my head just fine.
...were made for each other.
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bluegarners · 3 years
Text
“Dick has an overdose at a gala, hurt/comfort” ~ anon
~oOo~
He forgot to take his meds this morning.
Dick blows out a frustrated breath because that means he’s going to have to rearrange his entire cycle in order to not double dose. He always takes Zoloft in the morning with his breakfast and protein shake, and then the rest of the day goes smoothly and he can go to bed without the lingering worry of whether or not he remembered to do something. It’s an ingrained part of his routine and Dick is kicking himself for having forgotten to do it today.
The little yellow-tinted pill in his hand mocks him of his absent mindedness. The entire day had thrown him off of his usual planning, the not so gentle reminder of tonight’s charity gala for leukemia causing him to flit about in an attempt at getting his very much not used suit dry cleaned for the evening. Alfred would probably feel the need to strangle his first grandchild if Dick showed up with a wrinkled suit smelling of dust and disuse. 
That wrench thrown into his day leads him to where he is now, staring down the pill in his hand and holding a glass of water in the other. He could always take his meds tomorrow so his routine wouldn’t be thrown off so drastically, but even the thought of doing so makes his hands feel clammy for skipping an entire day. He promised his psychiatrist he was going to take these things more seriously and he wanted to at least start that off by regularly taking his prescription. It had been working, so far, and Dick really didn’t want to fall into the bad habit of “skip-days”, so with one fluid motion, he was swallowing the pill and gulping down water.
Tonight was going to be fun at least. Even with his flighty day and the hassle it was doing things he should’ve done the previous week, Dick was excited to go to a gala for once. It was one of the rare occasions where Bruce had managed to convince all of his wayward children to go, and it had been far too long since Dick had spent some time with all of his siblings. He saw Damian at least once a week, Tim as well, but Jason had been a struggle to get a hold of and Cass and Duke were always busy with their own responsibilities. Not that Dick wasn’t busy as well, but in his book, there was always time for family. 
Dick walks out of the bathroom, feeling slightly more pleased with himself for following through with his promise, and quickly walks to the garage where most of the family had already gathered. Had it not been for the fact that Cass and Duke happened to be staying at the Manor that week, Dick would have driven by himself to the banquet hall, but as it were, he was going to make every effort possible to squeeze in as much time as he could to be with his brothers and sister.
A slight problem arose though, as fitting eight total people into one car, driver included, was a tight fit. However, living with a billionaire had numerous perks, one of which being that they could choose from a variety of overly expensive cars and limousines and tonight, Alfred had chosen a classy black limo with leather seats and a cooler filled with bite-size cucumber sandwiches and bottled waters because, “In all of the many years of hosting galas, the Bestout family has yet to figure out how to properly serve a banquet.” 
Slipping into the passenger seats, Dick was slightly giddy at the sight of both Damian and Duke already munching on a few of the snacks Alfred had prepared, Tim typing away on his phone and Cass curiously peering over his shoulder. They all looked dashing in their respective suits, and Dick reached out to lightly pat the head of the youngest, careful as to not disturb the neatly gelled locks of hair. 
“Richard,” Damian acknowledges, a stray piece of bread clinging firmly to the side of his mouth. Adorable. “Where is Todd and Father?”
Before Dick has a chance to reply, Bruce and Jason step into the garage, Bruce’s hand latched firmly onto the third oldest’s shoulder. Dick can hardly hide his grin as Jason huffily plops down into the seat next to him, obviously still miffed at being forced to go to the gala. Bruce follows shortly after, taking his place besides Cass and in front of Dick, reaching into the cooler as well to retrieve a sandwich.
“Shall we proceed, sir?” Alfred calls from the front, the small window dividing the driver from the passengers a perfect view of the butler’s unimpressed eyebrows. “Or should we wait until the gala has ended to arrive?”
“Yes please. Sorry, Alfred.”
With that, they roll out of the Wayne Manor grounds and begin the short drive to the Bestout Charity Auction. Dick, personally, had no money to bid with and no intention to do so at all, but Bruce’s pockets went deep and they had already planned on what pieces to bid on and who to out-bid. Tim had made the bet that their “rivals” would attempt to out-bid the Waynes this year, and Tim was nothing but prideful on keeping the Wayne name free of that sort of blasphemy. He had done the math, was probably reviewing it on his phone at the moment, and had estimated that they could easily bid away about seven million dollars on a singular piece tonight if things went according to plan. 
Money. Old money at that. 
He feels a small tap on his shin then, and looks over to where Cass is gazing at him. She quirks her eyebrow, holding out her right palm and twisting her left middle finger against it. He nods, giving her two thumbs up and saying, “I remembered, don’t worry.”
She smiles, satisfied, before going back over to whatever Tim was doing on his phone. The rest of the ride is mostly silent, Dick basking in the presence of his family, until they finally pull up to the entrance. They are precisely thirty minutes late, fashionably so, and Jason is the first one to exit, followed then by Bruce, Cass, Tim, Duke, Damian, and lastly Dick. 
Immediately, they are met with the flashing of numerous cameras, a couple shouting out questions or beckoning them to look their way for a good shot. Bruce indulges in a few of the requests, stopping for a few seconds, before hurrying up the steps, his many children following just as quickly behind. Entering, they are greeted with a high vaulted ceiling with a singular ornate chandelier hanging down as the centerpiece and a few other light fixtures to highlight the entrance. 
Despite the initial grandeur, the charity gala is relaxed. Formal casual wear was allowed and encouraged upon, which basically meant one didn’t need to come dressed like they were meeting the Queen of England and could come in simple slacks and dress shirt, and for this reason and this reason alone is how Bruce managed to convince six of his children to attend. No one liked galas. Well, no one except Duke who was highly fascinated with how the rich and prim lived compared to the grittiness of Wayne Manor. 
As Alfred had lamented about, the Wayne family was late, perhaps an hour or so from the initial invitation arrival time, and all eyes were on them as they entered the banquet hall. Cocktail hour had just begun, and it was a matter of moments before a chorus of simpering, “Brucie! Over here!” began and Jason and Duke disappeared to look for the bar. Tim meandered off to find a few familiar faces, and Dick, Damian, and Cass were left standing near the entrance.
For a second, Dick regrets his decision not to force himself to eat one of the cucumber sandwiches Alfred had prepared as his stomach rolled around unpleasantly. His medication didn’t require a meal to be eaten with it, but again, he had been thrown off his normal routine and that usually included some food. 
He feels a nudge into his side and glances over to where Cass is smirking at him.
“I know, I know,” Dick groans, slumping slightly. “Alfred warned us, but you know I don’t like cucumbers. I’m just- yeah, I’m just going to go find something that doesn’t look like old cheese. Either of you coming with me?”
He extends a hand pleasantly, bowing over and winking at both of his youngest brother and sister.
“Unlike you,” Damian drawls, absently checking his fingernails, “I took sound advice when it was given.” He glances upwards, eyes narrowing as he finds his target. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it would appear that Father is in need of assistance.”
Dick watches the youngest Wayne march astutely towards a struggling Bruce Wayne, broadcasting a small amount of distress as yet another slightly drunk (already?) woman leers at him through false lashes. 
“Cass?” Dick asks hopefully, turning back towards her. “My most wonderful and elegant sister, will you come with me?” In truth, Dick was the tiniest bit hesitant to go over to the buffet style table by himself, no doubt going to be swarmed by the Gotham elite youth once he was alone and miserable once he took in the shallow presentation of foods.
But his dear sister is nothing but sweet and ruthless, smiling prettily at him before walking off in the other direction, most likely to find Jason and Duke at the bar. Cass didn’t like alcohol, but she knew how to order a Shirley Temple all the same.
With a sigh, Dick begins the trudge over to the long horderves table, snagging a flute of strong smelling champagne on the way. He didn’t really like champagne truthfully, more of a white wine kind of guy himself, but it gave off the impression that he was relaxed and confident even if he was mentally preparing himself for food disappointment. He’s right, well, Alfred is right, as his gaze travels mournfully over the plain and overly dressed finger foods. Was it really just that impossible to serve a nice plate of cheese and crackers with some fruit? What in the world was foie gras entier anyway?
A hand slides smoothly over his shoulder as Dick contemplates if the horderve is an organ or not, and he steadily turns his head to meet artfully decorated brown eyes.
“Well if it isn’t the elusive Richard Grayson,” the woman says, letting her hand fall from his shoulder to his elbow. “It’s been a while since I saw you at one of these.”
Another hand brushes against his shoulder, and he turns his head the other way to meet the eyes of the exact same woman on his other arm.
“Tristy is right,” the other, same?, woman coos. “It’s been too long, Richard. Tell me, where have you been? You haven’t been avoiding us, right?”
It finally clicks into place as Dick looks back and forth between the identical women. The Thoreau sisters. Identical twins. Heiresses to the Thoreau Parts manufacturing company. Their entire net worth was close to five hundred million and the sisters were notorious, perhaps even more so than “Brucie Wanye”, for bringing home exploits and one night stands.
“Good evening ladies,” Dick says simply, dialing back the charm he usually reserved for the elderly elite of Gotham. “It’s been awhile since I last came to one of these auctions, but tonight is for a good cause. Of course I would come.”
The two sisters titter lightly, hands flying up to cover their arched grins. “Oh yes,” maybe Tristy says. “The auction is surely going to be a smashing success. At least with a man like your father bidding tonight, and that man is nothing but generous.”
The sudden innuendos leave Dick feeling slightly off footed. It truly has been too long since he attended one of these galas, and he’s out of practice at maneuvering around seduction attempts such as these.
“Oh hush,” the other sister snaps, tapping Dick’s bicep twice to get his attention back to her. “Do you plan on bidding at all?” she asks charmingly. “My sister and I have our eyes on a sculpture by Vasconcelos and it would break our hearts if your father also had plans to bid for it.”
Dick shakes his head, bringing his flute of champagne upwards to take a sip. He decides he does not like the taste of carbonation. “No, I can’t say I have plans to bid on any one particular item tonight. However, I can promise you that Bruce has no plans to bid on any sculptures, so you will find no grievances with him I hope.”
“How gracious,” possibly Tristy practically moans, leaning into Dick’s side. “You know,” she whispers, eyes flicking back and forth in mirth, “If you’re not planning on bidding at all, there’s a private study somewhere. Once the bidding begins, we can just,” she leans in closer, practically licking Dick’s ear, “get out of here.”
A cold feeling begins to settle in Dick’s gut, his composure quickly melting away as he struggles to keep on a pleasant smile. Has it always been like this? When was the last time he actually attended a gala? He can’t remember being harassed like this, much less so soon. They just arrived and already someone’s trying to take him to bed. Is that all he looks good for? Why is it so hard to just have a normal conversation? This is supposed to be a family day, and yet here he is, separating himself from them all because he can’t control his cravings and really this harassment should’ve been expected because Gotham didn’t call Richard Grayson Bruce’s imprint because he had to get the “playboy” tendencies from somewhere if not genetics, so really he’s fine and just making a big deal out of nothing.
This was normal. Right.
Lost in his head, Dick realizes too late that it’s been far too long since he’s said something aloud. Tristy, or whoever it is that’s to his right, is frowning at him, a mean looking sneer adorning red lips. The other sister, he just doesn’t know her, is looking at him with something akin to disgust as well though slightly better hidden.
He clears his throat. Clears it again. His throat feels funny. “Look, ladies,” Dick says, “I’m flattered, I really am, but I’m not looking for anything right now. I’m sure you’re both lovely, but I think I’m going to… yeah, I’m just going to go find Bruce. You know how he gets when he’s had more than a couple glasses,” he tries to chuckle, tapering off when neither of the women join in. “Have a good evening.”
Extracting himself from their manicured hands is more difficult than he thought it would be, their insistence at keeping him cornered to the table making him more nervous. The ice in his stomach pinches unpleasantly, and Dick finishes off the champagne to place the little flute on a passing waiter’s stand. 
The lingering stench of overpriced perfume has him feeling nauseous, and Dick looks around for one of his family members. He spots Jason and Duke still at the bar, seemingly content at just sipping and observing, and Dick makes the move to walk towards them when the room tilts slightly. He stumbles, hardly even that, and rights himself in less than a second. He looks down, frowning when he sees nothing that might’ve tripped him up. 
“Richard,” a voice calls out, and Dick turns to see Damian making his way towards him, Bruce trailing slightly behind. 
“Hey, Dami!” Dick gushes, his unease melting away at the familiar faces. “Meet anyone interesting yet?”
The boy huffs, crossing his arms. “If by interesting you mean intelligent, then no. Not a single person here is capable of holding a conversation before spouting some nonsense. It should be considered cruel.”
“I hear you there,” Dick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Is it just him, or is the banquet hall extremely bright? The Bestout’s should consider investing less in chandeliers and more in good food. “Did any of the art pieces catch your interest?”
Another huff. “No,” Damian replies. “Modern art holds no value. I find nothing special about three dots in the center of a large canvas. If anything, it is a waste of material.”
“Bruce?” Dick asks. “What about you? I just ran into the Thoreau sisters; they said they were going to bid on that, uh, what was their name again… the Vasconcelos sculpture.”
Bruce grimaces at the company name, looking more closely at Dick. “No, nothing was to my taste. Alfred has asked me to bid on a tea set supposedly owned by Queen Anne. It is… vintage?”
Dick nods, willing himself not to laugh at Bruce’s idea of something vintage. “Nice. I’m sure Alfred will be excited to add it to his collection. Have, uh, any of you guys seen Tim or Cass at all?”
“Cain left,” Damian says simply. “Brown invaded the gala about ten minutes ago and coerced her into ditching. Drake is most likely stuffing himself into a corner.”
“Oh.”
A waiter walks by just then and Dick snags another champagne glass. He takes two sips, feeling some of his anxiety from earlier rise up again. Tonight was supposed to be a family night, or at least one as close to it as it could get, and already Cass had left? He doesn’t blame her for wanting to be with Steph, he remembers how infatuated he was in his first relationship, but he already felt the tell-tale tug in his heart that told him he was lonely. 
“I’m going to go find Tim,” he announces, patting the top of Damian’s head and giving a squeeze to Bruce’s left shoulder. “Have fun you two.”
They wave him off with little else, and Dick looks around the hall for the middle child. As his gaze travels from table to table, he can’t help but feel as if all eyes are on him, catching his gaze with each flicker. Taking deep breaths, Dick takes another sip, meandering slowly around the perimeters of the already established social groups. He catches bits and pieces of conversations, most if not all having nothing to do with tonight’s auction, and Dick begins to tap his fingers restlessly against his outer thigh. Why does he feel so anxious?
Someone bumps into him rather rudely, causing Dick to stumble again, but when he turns around to semi-glare, there is no one around him. The lights in the hall are blinding and Dick can feel a headache begin to form at the front of his skull. His breaths are suddenly very loud and Dick becomes all too aware of just how many people there are. At least two hundred and all of them seemed to be staring at Dick.
Someone else brushes up behind him, and Dick quickly turns around to confront them, because come on, that’s not a nice thing to do. There is no one there though. No one was even near enough to touch him and Dick feels sweat begin to trickle down the back of his suit.
What was he doing again? Right, right, searching for Tim. Tim was always calm, he’s sure he’s got to be around here somewhere.
“Richard,” a voice sing-songs to him. “Oh, Kathy, he’s right over here. My, my, thought you could give us the slip, hm?”
His grip on the glass of champagne tightens slightly as one of the Thoreau sisters slithers her way in front of him. He didn’t want to talk to them. He wasn’t feeling well. They didn’t make him feel comfortable and Dick really needed to find Tim. 
“You don’t look so good, Richy,” Tristy, Kathy, whoever, whispered. “Are you feeling alright? Had one too many to drink it looks like.”
The other sister laughs. “We only left you for twenty minutes. Missed us that terribly? How sweet.”
One of them grips his bicep again. Turns his chin so he’s facing her head on. The other one falls out of his line of sight. He thinks he’s seeing triple though because the twin in front of him is slowly separating into two, faces flickering back and forth and failing to align with the center.
“Maybe he’s tired,” she says, voice distorted and far away. “Finish that off and we’ll all go find somewhere to lay down, hm? Somewhere… private.”
The flute of alcohol is pressed gently into his lips and Dick automatically begins to drink from it, the liquid sliding down easily. It leaves a sour taste on his tongue, and huh, that’s weird. It didn’t taste like that before. He really does hate the taste of carbonation. 
Hands on either side of him push him forward, his feet dragging and shoes all of a sudden much too big for his feet. The glass is taken from his trembling grip, a whisper of “Wouldn’t want you to drop that,” letting his decisions elude him. The smell of sharp chemicals assault his nose and Dick feels his stomach roll. He thinks he might vomit.
Even though he keeps his face to the floor, the bodies beside him guiding the way, Dick can feel the stares, the eyes, that bore into him. The pressure leaves his chest heavy, feeling as though he’s slowly sinking into the red carpet below. The red shifts and melts like wax beneath his polished shoes, pooling and coiling around his shoelaces and reaching towards his ankles.
It smells like blood.
The red turns into a dark gray suddenly, fuzz turning into slick tile and the hands that gripped onto his biceps earlier now trail towards the hemline of his pants. He jerks, neck craning upwards and hands fumbling to push the invasion away. He’s simply shushed though, hands restraining his own and Dick feels like he’s been shot when he realizes he can’t get his legs to move properly.
He’s shoved towards an open door way, tripping and falling over himself as any semblance of coordination leaves him. It’s brighter in this room but everything keeps swirling together. Vertigo slowly weaves its way around his head and soon, there is no difference from up and down, left and right, sister and sister.
Nails dig into the sides of his cheeks in a harsh and fervent grip, and Dick feels like throwing up when he sees nothing but the swirling vortex of a flesh colored void. It spins faster and faster and Dick has to look away, but the sight of himself in a mirror is no better because that has to be him that’s standing there pressed into a stone counter but at the same time it can’t because he left that all behind.
He left Spyral behind. He escaped. He was home. They couldn’t control him anymore and yet- and yet.
Another blank flesh void stares back at his turned head. No visible features to recognize himself by. A smooth canvas that twists and churns and leaves him faceless. He is nothing once more. 
Something breaks inside of him and Dick feels a sob erupt from out of his chest. He’s just so confused and scared and lost and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He doesn’t want to go back to Spyral. His mission was completed, he had done everything Bruce asked of him and even after enduring throughout all of that, Dick feels that desperate yearning for his father.
He wants Bruce. He’s so scared. His head hurts. He can’t feel his legs anymore. Everything keeps colliding into everything and he can’t even recognize his own cries because even that sounds like it’s a lifetime away, all the way back in Gotham, but instead he’s stuck here and he doesn’t even know where here is anymore because Agent 37 isn’t allowed to ask questions, that’s not his place, that’s not his place, he’s not allowed-
“Wow,” a voice breathes into his ear, “you’re even pretty when you cry.”
And Dick doesn’t really know when it started raining, but his face is wet and the person is right, he is crying and it’s raining so hard and he doesn’t completely understand why or how but he does know he doesn’t like the hands that keep fumbling with his belt. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want her. He should say something. He should say something, but his mouth won’t move and he just lays there and takes it because that’s all he’s good for right? That’s why Barbara didn’t want to see him anymore because he’s just an awful person that just takes it and please, please, please stop. 
“Are you afraid of spiders, Richard?”
Of course he’s afraid. He’s terrified. He’s even more afraid of the dark and the dark contains many, many scary things. Things like a calloused hand reaching out to smother him, to choke him, to kill him. Things like a bright red pill shoved into his mouth, things like a bomb attached to his heart, things like the heat of the metal on his back as the chaos consumed him, destined to watch, destined to die, destined to be smothered over and over again. Bright red pill. Rough hands. Bright red lips. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.
Dick vomits.
~oOo~
“Mister Wayne?”
Bruce looks up from his phone, a smartly dressed waitress staring at him. “Yes?”
She holds out a folded napkin to him and Bruce takes it from her hesitantly. He stares at it before glancing back up. “I don’t understand.”
The woman gives him a half-hearted shrug. “I was only told to give it to you, sir. I don’t know what it is. Excuse me.”
With that, the waitress turns back around into the throng of people that wave her over for drinks. Bruce looks down at the napkin, putting away his phone quickly as he unfolds it. It’s a note, hastily written in smudged black, similar to a crayon. Perhaps some sort of makeup applicator. Bruce doesn’t give it much thought though as he reads,
Find your son.
And isn’t that a great way to get his heart to stop? His first instinct is to look wildly about and start dashing around in search of his, holy shit, five sons he brought along to the gala. Bruce stops though, forces himself to take three deep breaths and count to five, before calmly beginning to make his way to the entrance of the banquet hall. It was easier to see everyone from that position and it was crowded enough so that he wouldn’t immediately be singled out once again.
As he walks, he stares at the napkin note, trying to decipher who exactly sent it. It was a woman’s hand writing, he’s sure of it, but the intentions behind it could be anything. Ransom? A threat? A simple warning that one of his sons was much too drunk to care about public decency? Either way, being passed an anonymous note wasn’t good and Bruce felt his gut clench in apprehension. He tries to think of everything that’s happened throughout the night so far.
Damian had remained mostly by his side, a good defense to have on hand whenever one of the socialites got a bit too grabby. Jason and Duke had remained a pair by the bar from what he'd heard, challenging other young adults into dart games and shot pyramids. Tim had steadily been making his way through old friends, chatting with a few and periodically texting Bruce to ask what the bidding was at. 
(Alfred will be happy to know that he now had one more tea set to add to his collection)
And Dick… well, Bruce honestly hadn’t been keeping secure tabs on him. He’s trying to be a better father to adult Dick Grayson. Privacy and space had been something Dick had last emphasized on, the “mother-henning” as Dick liked to call it, overbearing and un-welcomed. When his eldest had mentioned his run in with the Thoreau sisters, Bruce had been concerned and looked for signs that his son was uncomfortable or something worse. As usual though, Dick had merely grinned and carried on like it was nothing and perhaps that was all it had been at the time but now with this note, this damn napkin note in his hands, Bruce could feel the suspicion slide into him like water.
“Father?”
A hand tugs on his right sleeve and Bruce finds himself sighing in relief as his youngest appears in front of him. Scrutinizing his son, Bruce finds nothing obviously wrong with him, hair still perfectly in place and a permanent frown etched upon his brow. His suit is still stain, spill, and wrinkle free and Bruce clasps a heavy hand onto Damian’s shoulder.
“Are you alright?” he asks, keeping eye contact.
“Of course,” is Damian’s curt reply. “What happened?”
Wordlessly, Bruce hands over the napkin to him, watching as his son’s frown deepens. “I shall gather Todd and Thomas. I will return shortly.”
Damian’s small figure disappears into the crowd easily, leaving Bruce standing by himself at the front of the hall. Pulling out his phone again, he quickly types out, Come to the front of the hall. Urgent, and sends it to Tim. He types out the same message and sends it to Dick as well and contends himself for the wait by tapping his foot against the red carpet.
A minute barely passes before he spots Jason’s broad figure moving through the crowd, and the tension in his gut only increases as he counts the heads moving towards him. One, two, three, four…
“What’s going on?” Duke asks as the four boys gather closely. “Are we, uh, needed?”
Bruce shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. Damian showed you the note?”
“What note?” Tim demands. “Bruce, what’s going on? Is something- oh,” he trails off, hand coming up to rub at his mouth as he reads the scribbled napkin. Tim turns his gaze to begin counting, and the same realization dawns upon him as he finally looks at Bruce’s grim face. “Where’s Dick?”
“I’ll call him,” Jason is quick to offer, pulling out his cellphone. He dials and holds it to his ear as the rest of the family watches. “Voicemail,” he grimaces, staring down at the device as if it had personally offended him. 
“We’ll split up. Jason, you’re with me. Duke, Tim, Damian, you three will go towards the east end, Jason and I will take west. Keep your phones on,” Bruce orders, checking his own ringer as he does so. “Ask around to see if anyone has seen Dick. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet, so remain cautious. Understood?”
A chorus of “yes” is the motivator for the split and like liquid, they flow back into the crowd seamlessly.
~oOo~
He’s alone. 
Or, Dick thinks he is. Well, now that he’s thought about it, Agent 37 is never alone. There’s always someone there, watching him, waiting for him to fail. But Nightwing works alone in Bludhaven. He’s discovered that he doesn’t like team ups much. Partnerships always end in the rain and he doesn’t like the rain. He doesn’t mind it so much when Batman’s cape is shielding his face but the rain is still pelting his cheeks and it smells like acid.
It smells like acid and metal. It sounds like endless whirring too, constant noise when all he wants right now is quiet. He wants to reach out and smother whatever it is that’s making the noise but his limbs are gone, he can’t move, he’s been restrained once again and that damn red pill, or maybe it’s tinted yellow this time, he can’t be sure, there are just so many pills, so many pills, it’s all keeping him down and dead.
He feels his stomach convulsing again and he gags, unsure if anything actually comes out. There’s red on the floor, it always comes back to red, why red, and it gathers around in his vision, slick along the white void below him. A part of Dick is glad he can’t move because he fears that if he were to even breathe, the void below would capture him and turn him white and twist his nothingness into something even less than all of it. 
His lungs stutter and his eyes roll back into his head for a moment. For a brief second, he is gone in the bliss of blackness. It’s not for long though because the need to cough erupts out of him and he has to open his eyes and see what plague is clawing its way from his mouth. His jerking disturbs the void and Dick can feel the blood in his veins freeze because he’s not supposed to move. He’s not supposed to make a single sound or else it would get him but he’s just so dumb, he’s just so incompetent, and now the void knows he’s here, now the void is going to get him and he’s so scared.
He blinks four times. He counts in his head. Two, five, one, two. Dick doesn’t think that’s right. He isn’t sure.
The void is angry though. He can tell in the way the ground shakes and the colors scream at him. He wants to move away and cover his ears but his arms don’t exist anymore, how could he forget, how could he forget, and he feels his eyes burning like he’s on fire and his brain is also screaming at him now and there are hands on his shoulders and no, no, stop, please stop, he doesn’t want this, he never wanted any of this. He’s sorry. He’s sorry. 
The void grasps him and pulls at him and Dick’s eyes are wide open and he wants to scream at the void’s face because he doesn’t know who they are, he doesn’t know where he is, and there’s no comfort in the cold, there’s no love or warmth in it’s embrace and he’s so tired and his chest hurts and he’s having trouble actually seeing anything now because he’s just scared of the dark and everything is getting quieter and doesn’t anyone have a nightlight he can use so he can fall asleep a little less scared?
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Bruce doesn’t know what exactly he was expecting when that waitress handed him a napkin. He doesn’t really know what he wanted to happen when he asked his children to split up and search for the lost one. Of course, the goal was to find the eldest, find Dick Grayson safe and sound and just doing something silly like back flips off a stairwell so Bruce could come and save him from embarrassing himself further. Okay, yes, Bruce knows exactly what he wanted to happen.
But this wasn’t it. 
It wasn’t Mister Dower slyly implying that Bruce’s eldest son was a clone of “Brucie Wayne’s” habits. It wasn’t the news that the Thoreau sisters had left in a hurry. It wasn’t a bellboy directing him to a private room that had been left ajar. And it wasn’t walking into a pitch black study only to hear wet retching and rattling from the adjoining bathroom.
He’s bursting through the door before he’s had the time to process it all and he feels as if all the wind in his lungs have been knocked out because there he is. Here is Dick Grayson, his son, his eldest, convulsing, bleeding, vomiting, shaking, dying, alone.
It’s second nature, done without a thought, and Bruce is kneeling down, stripping himself of his jacket and folding it, taking Dick by the shoulders and turning him on his side and placing the folded jacket beneath his head. Dick’s eyes are rolling, unseeing, and his face twitches and jerks and it’s terrifying, and Bruce looks away to stare at his watch and counts and counts and counts.
It’s scarcely thirty seconds before the jerking stops and Dick goes stiff, like every single muscle in his body is clenched in anticipation. 
“Bruce,” Jason begins, and he sounds unsure and out of place and Bruce curses at himself for having momentarily forgotten about him, “Holy shit.”
Bruce says nothing and continues to stare at his watch because he knows the seizure isn’t over, he prays it is but he knows it’s not, and Dick begins to convulse again and Bruce’s heart is beating so fast he isn’t sure if he can feel it anymore.
“The others are on their way,” Jason speaks up again. “I’m calling 911. What should I tell them?”
And usually Bruce is faster than this, better at processing, but it’s all so sudden and this is his son that’s laying in front of him, shaking and heaving in front of him, that it takes him a few seconds to come up with an answer. “Tell them,” he tries, mouth dry and god how much longer is this going to last? “Tell them that we need police and an ambulance for,” Bruce clears his throat; two minutes now, five becomes dangerous, “A possible assault and drug overdose.”
There’s lipstick smeared on Dick’s collar, his tie is undone, his belt buckle unclasped, pink indents on the sides of his jaw, lips tinted blue, and a mess of vomit splattered down his shirt. It smells sour and pungent and it’s the color of old brandy. Blood weeps from Dick’s hairline and Bruce startles himself with the thought that, had it not been for the note, Dick could’ve died and no one would have known. 
No one would have known.
Finally the seizure stops and Bruce can feel his fingers trembling as he cradles his son’s head to fully rest against the tile flooring. Three minutes and fifteen seconds. Too close. Too close.
“Move! I demand to see Richard!”
“You can’t, not right now. Bruce is helping him but you have to stay out here.”
“Jason, what the hell happened to Dick?”
“Bruce thinks he got roofied. Whatever was given to him was too much.”
“Did… did anything happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Todd, I swear to you, if you do not move this instant-”
Bruce can’t focus on their conversation anymore, too entranced by the way his son breathes. They’re short, shallow gasps, like he’s panting through a straw, and Bruce reaches out a hand to rub his eldest’s upper back. He doesn’t move from his position, kneeled firmly as if in prayer, and maybe it is like a prayer because he needs a miracle right now. Bruce needs some guidance, some reassurance, and he hasn’t prayed since his parents died, but a little part of him is sighing and repeating those long forgotten words over and over again.
Abraham, Issac, and Jacob; Sarah, Rebekkah, Leah, and Rachel.
Dick does not stir from where he lays, eyes flickering behind closed lids. Bruce thinks he’s conscious, the flighty rhythm of his heart giving his blankness away, but the stillness in which his son lays allows a vine of terror to eclipse around his heart.
Grant him a r’fu-ah sh’lei-mah, a complete recovery.
His mother used to whisper prayers into his ear when he was younger and sick, fever-ridden constantly and just so tired. She would sit by his bedside, hold his hand, and pray for him in the silence of his room. Bruce was too young to understand what it meant. Too young to really grasp the concept of salvation, of hope found in religion. Now that he’s gone so long without it, Bruce thinks he still doesn’t grasp its weight, but the familiar words roll around in his head and leave the tightness in his chest with company. 
But the comfort is like a blanket draped over your head when you were a child, on some level convinced it could protect you from the monsters in your closet and the kidnappers that surely tap on your window. The monsters are real though, the kidnappers are grabbing at your feet, and Bruce can feel his heart pounding away with the realization that he truly could have lost Dick. That Bruce had been in the exact same room, in the same vicinity as his eldest when he was drugged. When he was… assaulted. Possibly. Maybe. Bruce clings to those uncertainties. 
And he’s got ideas. Theories. Conclusions. A list of suspects. 
With those, Bruce also has punishments in mind. Vengeance. Retribution. But the situation at hand is more pressing than the thoughts that bang against his skull.
Dick’s eyes fly open, a cough that sounds more like a gag jerking his body. His arms stagger against his sides, feet kicking out with the force of his hacking, and Bruce merely lets his hands hover. He wants to touch him, to ground Dick, but the hesitation in his actions leave him barren of any sort of presence. Dick keeps coughing, getting louder and more forceful with each measly breath he manages to suck in, and his lips are beginning to turn blue and his face a bright red and Bruce doesn’t know what to do right now, doesn’t know how to help because he’s so afraid to touch him, to help him, when all he’s done tonight is ignore him and let this whole thing happen because he’s a horrible father-
“Richard, stop it!”
And then Damian is falling to his knees beside Dick’s heaving body, also fumbling for an answer and scared and all the things Bruce feels right now.
“Stop it, Richard! Stop it right now!” Damian demands, but his orders fall on deaf ears because Dick won’t stop coughing and gasping and shaking and he’s not having another seizure but that’s what it looks like and then finally, Bruce reaches out a hand and holds his eldest still, willing for something, anything, to happen to get Dick to stop.
“Son,” he implores, practically begging, “Dick, you need to calm down, okay? I know you’re scared and confused right now, but everything is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Take a deep breath, Dick. Breathe.”
Finally, something seems to register for Dick because he’s craning his neck around, eyes wide and searching even as he continues to retch out his lungs. Bright blue eyes, beautiful and robin egg blue, catch Damian’s and Bruce can see recognition light up onto his face. The relief that Bruce had felt blossoming in his chest at the sight is quickly smothered when tears gather in Dick’s eyes, a weak sob wrenching its way in between coughs.
“Sorry, sorry,” Dick moans, delirious and broken. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
“Richard, breathe,” is all Damian says, reaching out to grab at one of Dick’s flailing hands. “Please.”
Bruce doesn’t know if Dick actually understood what Damian was saying, or if he even recognized any one of his brothers that stood around him, but one moment, Dick is retching up a lung, and the next, he’s silent and holding his breath. The coughing stops but Dick is going slightly purple in the face and before Bruce, Damian, anyone can do anything to get him to open his mouth again, Dick’s eyes roll up into the back of his head and he drifts.
His head thuds softly onto the white tile just as the paramedics arrive and Bruce thinks he might need an ambulance too with how quickly his heart beats and how hot the blood in his veins feel.
The rest is a blur.
~oOo~
Many things happen in the few hours that follow. 
Dick is promptly swept away on a stretcher, paramedics checking pulse count, setting up an IV, and other things that anyone hardly has the mind to pay attention to. By then, the entire banquet knew something was wrong, along with a few reporters that whipped out their cameras and began snapping pictures in earnest. 
In a move that is sure to get him on the front pages, Bruce snarls at a few of the reporters, threatening them in mannerisms that suggested he might just break their obnoxious cameras. Jason follows a similar pattern, actually reaching over and knocking away one of the invasive reporters when they got too close to the ambulance, and the youngest is not far off in doing the same before he is ushered away and into a waiting private car that would escort them to the hospital Dick was being taken to.
Only Bruce had been allowed to ride in the ambulance on the way over, and the four brothers had sat in tense silence during the ten minute drive. Tim had been almost absurdly quiet during the entire ordeal, typing away at his phone and absently chewing on one of his fingernails. No one comments on the bad habit, all of them guilty of doing something in a similar fashion, and when they arrive at the entrance, Bruce meets them there where he tells them that, for now, Dick appears to be mostly fine.
His vomit and blood were being tested at the moment for a tox-screening, a toxicologist named Dr.Ruth informing them that Dick wasn’t in life-threatening danger anymore. The “anymore” bit startles them all and it is explained to them that, because Dick appeared to have eaten nothing that night and drank nothing but champagne, there was little else in his system to digest whatever drug was given to him. It all went straight into his nervous system, which is what caused the seizure.
Bruce manages to secure a larger medical room for all five of them to squeeze into and forty minutes later, Dr.Ruth returns with a clipboard in tow. Results are in.
“Mister Wayne,” she begins, making sure to keep an even gaze with the older man, “You said you believed that Richard may have been purposely drugged tonight?”
Bruce nods. 
“Is Richard taking any drugs right now? Recreational or otherwise?”
The implication sends a strange stab of anger through Bruce, rising up from his seat to challenge the doctor about her accusations. “Richard has never-”
“Actually,” Tim interrupts, finally speaking, “he does.”
Bruce looks over, shock peppering his face through the way his mouth twitches and his jaw clenches. 
Tim rushes to defend himself. “No, wait, what I mean is that Richard takes a prescription. He’s not doing, like, hard crack or something like that.” He holds up his phone as if it contains every single answer to life. “Cass- our sister- told me that Richard didn’t take his anxiety medication this morning. He took it before going to the banquet tonight.”
“Do you know what he was prescribed?” Dr.Ruth asks, scanning through something on one of the papers. 
Tim checks his phone again. “Uh, Zoloft. 40 milligrams once a day.”
“Okay,” she hums to herself, satisfied with the answer. “That explains it then.”
She clicks her pen, setting down her clipboard and turning to face all five of them in the room. “Richard’s screening came back just a few minutes ago, but there were a few discrepancies that didn’t match up exactly. From what the labs tested, Richard was given a dosage of about 250 milligrams of ketamine, on which he overdosed, but an additional drug was also found in his blood and from what you said, young man, it would appear to be Zoloft. That medication, in addition to not eating anything and consuming some alcohol, was what caused such a bad reaction.”
She glances behind her again, checking her clipboard. “Now, Mister Wayne,” she addresses Bruce, “In your witness statement, you said that Richard appeared to be having hallucinations?”
“I don’t believe he knew we were there with him.”
Dr.Ruth nods. “Victims of large overdoses on ketamine typically experience hallucinations, similar to a bad LSD trip or otherwise. Sight and sound become warped and the person under the influence often doesn’t understand what’s going on around them.”
“What about,” Duke begins, nervous and quiet, “What about the, um, the other test? Did- Is Dick okay?”
The doctor smiles, happy to give fortunate news. “Yes, the test results came back negative. Other than a few scratch marks on his face which have been cleaned, Richard is fine.”
A collective breath releases over the room. Dick was going to be okay.
“Once the nurses have finished checking your son over, you’re free to take him home,” Dr.Ruth finishes, collecting her things. “Someone will be with you shortly to escort you to him.”
“Wait,” Jason calls out, “That’s it? You’re just going to send him away?”
The doctor looks back at him, sympathy lining her sad smile. “Well, there’s not much else we can do. Keep an eye on him, make sure he drinks plenty of fluids and try to give Richard some dry foods. If anything happens or Richard’s condition worsens at all, please bring him back and we’ll do what we can.”
And with that, Dr.Ruth opens the door and leaves.
~oOo~
The nurses tell them that Dick needs to stay for an additional hour or so, just until he’s coherent enough to answer some well-being questions and to finish the IV bags they’ve given him. All five of them have managed to cram themselves into Dick’s small room, the man in question awake but quiet. He’s coherent enough that he seems to recognize them all individually, and no longer seems to be hallucinating, but he wears a grimace that tells of discomfort. Dick has yet to say anything since waking up.
His eyes are distant, staring listlessly towards the ceiling and trailing from light to light. Bruce is sure the action is somewhat painful, but he doesn’t make a move to distract his son from whatever he’s thinking. 
It’s been a long night, for all of them really, but none as long as the night Dick Grayson has had. Bruce is told that Dick spoke in private with one of the nurses and an assisting officer about some of the things that happened during the banquet. Bruce doesn’t pry though. He knows better than to go sticking his nose into something so fresh, something so invasive. He trusts that Dick will speak when he’s ready. 
Whenever that is.
There’s a knock at the door before Dr.Ruth walks in again, hands folded neatly in front of her as she enters. There’s no clipboard with her and a lightness in her posture is telling of good news.
“You’re all clear,” she says warmly, stepping up closely to Dick’s cot. “I just need you to sign some release forms and you’ll be on your way. Do you have any questions for me?”
She directs the question towards Dick, whose gaze travels slowly over to the doctor. He licks his lips twice before asking, “What do I need to do after I leave?”
“Hydrate,” she answers, mentally going through a checklist. “Lots of fluids. The charcoal is going to absorb a fair amount of liquid in your system, so keep an eye out for water consumption and bowel movements.”
“What… what about medication?”
She frowns at that, lips pulling down slightly. “Well,” she starts, “I would suggest keeping away from them for the next twenty-four hours. Are you in pain? Do you feel like you need something for it?”
Dick is quick to shake his head. It jostles him and he closes his eyes briefly, be it from pain or disorientation is something indiscernible. “No, no. Not hurt or anything. I take some, uh, prescriptions though. From my psychiatrist. Everyday.”
“I see.” Dr.Ruth is quiet for a moment before, “Try to wait as long as possible. If you absolutely need to, go ahead and take them but be careful. You won’t be in any serious danger but it’s always better to be cautious after an overdose.” She turns to Bruce then. “He’ll need to be somewhat monitored over the next few days. It’s not very common, but symptoms can linger.”
After another pause in which no one speaks up, Dr.Ruth smiles and bows her head slightly. “I’ll have someone bring those papers by soon. Tell one of the nurses if you’re having trouble walking, Richard, and we can get a wheelchair brought to you. Have a good evening, gentlemen.”
No one continues to make a sound as Bruce fills out the paperwork, insisting that a wheelchair be brought when Dick only manages to take a few steps before his legs begin to shake. Dick makes no comment on it, only half-heartedly glaring at Bruce as he sat down heavily into the plastic seat. The walk out of the hospital is quiet too, Duke along the way muttering that he was going back to his cousin’s place for the night. Alfred meets the remaining boys at the front, leaning forwards to bring Dick into a small hug before releasing him and helping Dick get into the car he brought.
When Damian hands Dick a water bottle, Dick accepts it silently, lightly patting his little brother’s hand before taking a singular sip from the bottle. He doesn’t drink from it again.
When they arrive at the Manor, Jason is the first one moving and is quick to pull out the ramp they have for when Barbara visits. Dick is tense as they roll him into the Manor, finally putting his foot down when Bruce suggests that one of them carry him up to his bedroom. It’s a slow process and it twists Bruce’s heart in a way he can’t quite describe as he watches his eldest struggle up the flight of stairs, using both the railing and Damian as meager supports. 
Dick pushes open the door to his dark room and makes no comment when everyone follows him in. He all but collapses onto his bed, exhausted. They all just simply breathe for a minute, taking the time to truly process everything that’s happened that night. Somewhere in the Manor, a bell tolls and the electric clock on Dick’s nightstand reads two in the morning. They’re all still in their suits, still in their tight dress shoes, and nothing seems quite real yet. The black out curtains are clasped together tightly, as if their belief in maintaining the illusion and reality of darkness is all that’s keeping the peace.
Damian is the first one to move this time, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes to sit beside Dick’s sprawled form. They don’t exchange words, but Dick shifts and allows Damian to get closer, a hand reaching up to finally destroy the carefully combed locks of hair, stiff with gel and pomade. Dick sighs and this release is what prompts the others to move as well, Jason plopping himself at the foot of the bed to lean against one of the banisters, Tim choosing to sit on the floor and rest his head against the side of the bed frame, and Bruce pulling a chair closer to be within reaching distance of Dick.
It’s quiet, calm, and the proximity is just enough to be reassuring. Comforting in a way that doesn’t demand physical touch but soothing enough to provide warmth. It’s nice. 
Dick speaks first. It’s an apology. 
“I wanted this to be a family night, you know?” he confesses into the stillness. “I didn’t mean for… any of this to happen.”
“We know, Dick,” Tim says, equally as quiet. “It wasn’t your fault.”
There is no response to that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jason asks, voice gruff but kind. Gentle in a way that betrays his outward appearance. 
“I don’t know,” Dick says. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” is all Jason responds, easy and light. The dark hides many secrets. He will not be the one to unearth them.
It goes back to silence after that and soon enough, Dick’s breaths are even and his eyes are closed. Slowly, the boys disappear one by one back to their rooms, allowing themselves to recover as well from the experience. Damian falls asleep by Dick’s side and Bruce tenderly picks him up, cradling the boy’s head onto his shoulder, and carrying him to his own room.
When Bruce returns, Dick is sitting up and staring at him. He’s nervous. Bruce takes a deep breath in for his own nerves and sits back down into the seat. They stare at each other for a long time, the eye contact neither uncomfortable nor helpful. It’s a waiting game, one that doesn’t need to happen, and Bruce breathes in again. 
“How are you, son?” he asks, gaze heavy as he takes in Dick’s haggard appearance. The hospital had given him a scrub shirt to replace the one he had thrown up on and the texture crinkles as Dick shifts in place. His eyes go back to wandering around, drifting from Bruce’s face to the comforter around his legs.
“I’m tired,” Dick whispers, hands flexing and clenching. “And a little freaked out,” he adds, eyes flickering to Bruce’s and then darting away again. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful. I… I messed up.”
Bruce sighs, slowly and deliberately telegraphing his movements as he reaches out to place a hand over Dick’s fidgeting one. Dick is still tense, hand clenching into a fist as Bruce just lets the warmth of his palm linger. 
“You did nothing wrong,” Bruce begins. Pauses. Backtracks. “Everything that happened tonight wasn’t your fault. Whoever did this… that’s their fault. That’s their doing. Not yours. Never yours.”
“How did you find me?” Dick asks, deflecting. He’s always been good at that.
“I was given a note.” The napkin had been taken away as evidence earlier. The phantom hot weight of it still burns a hole in Bruce’s coat pocket. “It told me to find you.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” Pause. “I’m glad they did though. I was… worried. Worried of what had happened to you. Dick, look at me please.”
Instantly, Dick’s eyes snap to his and again, Bruce’s heart twists in a way he can’t describe. Sadness? Resentment? Melancholy? Regret? He doesn’t know.
“I’m sorry I let that happen to you,” he says firmly, reaching out with both hands to grasp at Dick’s. He grips them tightly, holding them together like they’re praying. This is now twice in over a decade. “I am so sorry, Dick. I wasn’t there when you needed me, but I’m trying to be better. I want to be a better father to you, son. You mean more to me than you will ever know and the thought of losing you scares me.”
Dick nods sharply, once, twice, and his face falls into apathy as he processes what Bruce has said. He doesn’t reach out to hold Bruce’s hands as well, but the fact that he hasn’t removed them is enough to reassure Bruce that he’s doing at least one thing right.
“It,” Dick says, voice barely a whisper, “It scares me too. Losing you. Losing anyone. Dying.”
He swallows audibly and sweat trickles down his brow. Bruce wants to insist that Dick go back to sleep or at least drink some more water, but he refrains from doing so, too afraid to remove his hands lest he lose Dick all over again.
“When I was...” Dick trails off, swallowing again. “While I was hallucinating,” he restarts, “I saw, no, uh, I thought I saw a lot of things.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, buddy,” Bruce reminds him, tapping his index across Dick’s knuckles. “It can wait.”
Dick shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I’m okay.” His voice cracks slightly as he says that. Bruce ignores it and Dick seems grateful. 
“I thought I was dying again,” he rushes out, as if to force the words before he can take it back. “All these bad things, things from the past that I didn’t want to remember, were suddenly all happening again and I-I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where I was, what was happening, who I was with half the time, and I couldn’t move, Bruce. I couldn’t move and it all just happened. 
They wouldn’t stop touching me and it scared me. I was terrified and then suddenly I was alone and I really thought I had died. I thought that I had died and then Damian was there and-and I thought he had died again and I couldn’t, couldn’t handle that, Bruce.”
“Dick, breathe. Breathe. Damian is safe. You’re safe. Breathe in for me, buddy, that’s it. You’re okay. I promise.”
Dick nods again as if trying to convince himself that he’s safe now. That he’s home and everything is okay and there are no ghostly hands that cover and touch him. He tries, but he’s tired. The fear rests idle and Dick can feel it scratching at his throat. It’s been six hours hours since everything happened. Only six.
“I think the worst part,” Dick admits, strained and hushed, “was that I was alone.”
Bruce squeezes his son’s hands together, the pressure meant to be grounding. “I’m sorry,” he says, meaning it with everything he has. 
Dick only shrugs his shoulders, a shuddering breath escaping him. He looks at his father’s hands, the gnarled knuckles and thin white scars that grasp his own destroyed fingers. The contrast of the touch compared to the appearance is comforting in a way that reminds Dick of their early days as Batman and Robin. Before Nightwing. Before Agent 37. Before everything else. It is a testament to their struggles, their crooked fingers and half formed nails from broken bones and relentless pursuit. Their hands hold the weight of a thousand punishments, twice more punches, and countless conflicts and battles. 
Their hands are the evidence of their survival though. Their victories against death.
Two thin stitches that hold together the cut just below his hairline are another piece of the evidence. Another testimony to Dick’s endeavor for endurance against the odds. There will be a pink scar to commemorate tonight, and in a year or so, there will be nothing left but a faint white line. 
Tomorrow, Dick will wake up, eat breakfast, and carry on about his day. It will be normal because it has to be. There is no other way to move forward, and Dick will swallow his pills with the same grimace and remembrance of hot metal and red lips. Maybe in a week, he’ll tell his therapist about tonight and they’ll suggest another coping strategy that Dick’s already tried but he’ll try again because he has to.
For now though, in the silence of his childhood room, decorated with pictures of the circus and framed photos of his found family, with black out curtains that never move to let the light of day peer through and a noisy vent that sometimes drips from condensation; for now, Dick can indulge in his fears and his worries as Bruce holds his hands.
There will be police reports, prosecutions, scandals, interviews, testimonies, and so much more later. Right now though. Right now, Dick lets himself breathe and accept the fact that things aren’t fine and that he needs help. Dick lets himself squeeze his father’s hands and blink away tears, finding relief in their hold.
He’s not okay, but tomorrow he will be. He has to be. 
106 notes · View notes
speuradair · 3 years
Text
Byakuya With An S/O Who Has Bipolar Disorder
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Byakuya isn’t the best with emotions
He isn’t great with his own emotions, let alone the emotions of others
Generally he isn’t bothered by that disconnect, but when it comes to you, his lover? It bothers him a lot
Especially when he learns that you have a mood disorder
Not because it bothers him, but because he then finds it all the more important to be there for you
So of course, he’s going to put more energy into helping and understanding you
Byakuya is a very smart man
He knows a lot about a lot of different things, and he also knows how to do thorough research on the things he doesn’t know about
Though he might not initially know a lot about Bipolar disorder, he’ll do as much research as it takes to understand you 
While Byakuya may not be the best at handling other’s emotions, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about them
He cares very much about your emotions and pays a lot of attention to them
His naturally observant nature helps him out a lot in that aspect!
When your mood shifts for whatever reason, he’s very quick to pick up on it
As for helping you with them, Byakuya relies a lot on the information and advice that you’ve given him specifically
There’s a lot of variation among specific cases of Bipolar Disorder, so he wants to make sure he’s doing what’s helpful for you
If you need to be distracted during your depressive episodes, he’s ready with your favorite show, youtube videos, video game, or music
If you need reassurance, he’s always ready to give you that as well
He also knows that a depressive drop can be dangerous, as you’re more likely to make sudden bad choices
He never mentions that directly, but he is always watching to make sure you aren’t considering anything bad
No matter how long your episode lasts, he’ll be right there next to you to help you through it
When you’re having a manic episode, Byakuya does his best to keep you from doing anything too crazy or impulsive
He’s glad you’re happy and excited, but he isn’t going to let you do anything you might regret
That being said, he has no problem enabling you to do the smaller things you want to do 
You suddenly want to go get milkshakes and drive around at 1am? He’ll tease you about it, but he’s willing to do it as long as he doesn’t have to get up too early the next morning
You wanna go to the store to get supplies to try something you saw on the internet? He’ll try to help you with whatever it was
As long as it’s harmless, he’s perfectly happy to indulge your impulsive requests
If you take medication for it, Byakuya is very good at keeping you on schedule and assuring that you never miss a dose or forget to refill your prescription
He’s surprisingly gentle about reminding you to take them, he takes extra caution to never make you feel bad about needing to take them or being on them in general
Byakuya may not have much patience for other people, but he’s never bothered by you or your emotions
He knows that you can’t control them and that you aren’t just being dramatic
Honestly, he knows that you’re most likely more bothered by your bipolar disorder than anyone around you ever could be
He just wants to help you cope with it as much as he can
64 notes · View notes
dreaminae · 3 years
Text
We All Need The One Friend
Chapter 14
Softly placing her hand upon his chest, Liv pushed Spencer back into his original spot in the passenger seat.
"What's wrong, Liv?" Spencer asked, confused by the shift in her mood.
Huffing, Olivia mentally prepared herself to confess. "I wanted to make sure I told you how I felt before telling you this, Spence. Because I want you to understand that what happening with me isn't because of you, Vegas, or what's happening between us."
Spencer nodded, letting Olivia gather her thoughts aloud.
"I'm going through something that could break me, but I won't let it because I'm going to get the help I need. I can't get into major detail right now because my family need the truth first."
"You will tell me you're ready," Spencer interjected, assuring a nervous Olivia that he understood her actions.
"The reason I'm telling you this is so that you don't worry about me." Olivia sighed.
"It's like you told me at the cabin," Spencer recalled. "Whatever it is that you're going through, you're strong enough to handle it."
"Thanks, Spencer." Liv exhaled with relief.
"Hey, and you already know to count on me for whatever you need," Spencer added supportively, grabbing her hand once more. "Even if it means just being here."
Liv grinned, tightening the hold on his hand she gestured towards the road she contently, "Let's head home."
Their drive was quiet, as Spencer allowed Liv to mentally prepare for what he assumed to be an impending larger confession.
They'd peak at each other now and again with cheeky grins. On her third grin towards Spencer, Liv only spaced for a second. And it took only a second for things to go array.
One moment Spencer's eyes were on Liv's adoring smile, the next his eyes were wide on the road.
"Liv, watch out!"
Her eyes tore from his in shock as a stray dog ran into the road. Swerving her steering wheel to keep from hitting the dog, Liv sent her car flying into the direction of the curbside. Pressing her breaks, she tried to no avail to keep from crashing into a black, parked car.
Smoke aired from Olivia's engine as she and Spencer accessed the damage of the crash.
"Are you okay? I'm so sorry." Liv panicked, checking Spencer's arm.
"It's alright, Liv. I'm fine." Spencer moaned. "Are you?" He replied, concerned for her as well.
"Yeah. I think so." Liv moaned, checking over herself, Liv couldn't help but to think that things could've been worse.
------------------------------
"Why don't both of you put your hands outward where I can see them?" One officer hastily insisted after finding Olivia and Spencer at the scene of the crash.
"I can grab my license and registration if you give me a..." Liv suggested impulsively, one foot moving in the direction of her wrecked vehicle.
"Don't move, Ma'am!" The officer's voice boomed aggressively.
Spencer hand immediately grab hold of Liv's, holding her in place.
"Back to your places with your hands where I can see them. Both of you!" He aggressively repeated.
Olivia froze in place at a loss for words. Spencer gave her a stern expression, so she followed his lead staying unwaveringly obedient.
"My partner is running your plates. We'll find out who's car this is soon enough." The officer spat accusingly.
Liv rolled her eyes in disbelief of the indirect accusation of grand theft auto. "It's registered to my parents. Which you'd know if you had allowed me to show you my documents." Liv sniped rebelliously.
"That's enough out of you." The officer groaned, annoyed by Liv's verbal upheaval. "Instead of sassying me, how about telling me about the accident."
"What do you want to know?" Liv responded.
"Who was driving?" The officer demanded to know.
Spencer eyed Liv with uncertainty, wondering if he might need to take the fall. However, before he could Olivia answered the police officer.
"I was driving." Liv chirped undoubtedly.
"Are you intoxicated?" The officer asked, eyeing Liv suspiciously.
And for the hundredth time this weekend, Liv found herself grateful that she hadn't taken her infamous blue bottle to the cabin this weekend.
"No, I am not." Liv sighed honestly, resulting in Spencer releasing a breath of relief he hadn't been aware he was holding. "You can test me if you want?" Liv challenged.
The officer opened his mouth to sprout a comeback, but his partner joined the conversation before he could.
"Your vehicle is listed under D.A Baker ownership." The female cop hastily spoke, silently discouraging her partner from pressing the teen further.
"That's right." Olivia agreed. "She's my mom."
Moaning agitatedly, the male officer gave in, refusing to be reported for harassing the district attorney's kid. "I suggest calling your mother before she gets worried. My and I will see if we can get a toll for your vehicle."
"You do that." Liv sniped sarcastically, frustrated by the cop's clear double standards.
Spencer gazed at Liv with a disapproving expression to which she shrugged in response. Her demeanor was that of a social justice warrior, while he was of carried the persona of a young survivor. Despite the serious situation, he couldn't help admire how she held strong under adversity.
-----------------------------
Almost two hours rolled by into the late-night when Spencer and Olivia found themselves at the Baker residence.
"Let's just be glad no one was hurt." Laura's voice rang into the Bakers' kitchen as she set her purse on the countertop. "Things could've been much worse."
Several scenarios of the night flashed through Liv's mind in the last two hours. One where she had been intoxicated and arrested. Another where she'd crashed while under the influence, pleading with Spencer to take the fall. Even one where she'd lost her own life at the wheel of her alcohol abuse.
No longer able to hold onto her darkest secret, she confessed to her mother what she'd been hiding since the end of summer.
"It could've been worse," Liv muttered her mother's words in a lifeless tone, gaining Laura's attention. "Had this happened even a week ago, I would've been arrested for drinking while intoxicated."
Laura's eyes tore up from her phone, perplexed by her daughter's words. "Why would you say that Liv? You don't drink."
"But I have been drinking." Liv finally admitted. "This is the first weekend in months that I've been completely sober."
Laura's eyes watered with tears of denial. "No, because I had you tested and you passed. You could've have cheated that test."
"You tested me for paraphernalia." Olivia corrected. "Not alcohol. Which is why I passed the test."
"I asked you, Liv. I asked if you were using, and you said no. Even your Dad asked you. So what, you just lied to us?" Laura inquired, tears streaming down ber cheeks as she tried to contain her emotions.
"I told you the truth. I haven't been taking any drugs, prescriptions, or anything like that." Liv replied, her voice cracking under her mother's disappointed gaze. "Not that it matters." She acknowledges. "I told myself it was okay to drink because it wasn't a pill. But it's not okay. I know that now. I swear I know." She cried.
"Why, Liv? You've been doing so well." Laura wept for her daughter's abandoned recovery.
"That's just it! I'm not doing well. I haven't been for a while!" Olivia shouted, wanting her mother to see the truth. "I can't remember the last good night's sleep I had. I can't remember a night where I didn't dread being alone with my thoughts. I don't remember a day this past summer where I didn't depend on having company to keep myself from wanting to drink or pop a random pill. My sponsor's been A-Wall since before summer. You have your new job, Dad is hardly around, and Jordan has his own life to worry about. I didn't want to feel like a burden. I thought I had it under control, but it's falling apart! I just want it to be over, Mom!" Liv ranted out in tears, "I just want it all to be over."
Sensing that Liv had finally released all her built-up angst, Spencer embraced her, allowing her to cry on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry." She whispered in a hushed tone, leaning her head on Spencer's shoulder. She hoped he was too disappointed in her. "I didn't mean to..."
"Shhh.." Spencer insisted gently, running his fingers through her curls. "It's alright. You're gonna be alright."
Laura breathed heavily, silently processing her daughter's breakdown.
Continuing to coax Liv down from her panic attack, Spencer kissed the side of her temple. "I'm proud of you for telling the truth," Spencer assured Liv supportively.
Holding him closer, Liv sniffled. "Thanks."
Their intimate moment broke at the sound of Laura clearing her throat. Pulling away from Spencer, Olivia faced her distraught mother.
"I didn't mean for it all to come out this way." Olivia apologized, clear-minded enough to have a formal discussion. "But with the crash, I couldn't keep it in any longer."
"It's been a long night, and right now I'd like both of us to get some rest." Laura stated, "Tomorrow, your father and I will decide what is the best route to take to help you."
"I know what Dad will want. And I know you probably want to send me to rehab, as well." Liv immediately added as before her mother could end the discussion. "But I'm begging you not to, Mom."
"Now isn't the time to discuss this. I need to take Spencer home. Your father and I will decide tom-"
"Mom, please." Liv pleads, grabbing Laura's hand. "This isn't like last time. I came to you this time. I admit to drinking, and I will do whatever I need to get better. Just don't send me away again." Olivia groveled.
Pulling away her hand Laura reached for her purse and car keys. "We will talk about this tomorrow. Not tonight. I'm taking Spencer home, and you need to bed."
Dropping her hand at her side, Liv nodded, sensing her mom was going unwavered. "Fine. Can I at least say goodbye to Spencer?"
Laura glared at Liv, telling her daughter not to push her luck.
"This might be the last time I see him for a while." Liv assumed. "Please, mom."
Huffing, Laura nodded. "Five minutes. I will be in the car. I expect Spencer there in five minutes."
"Yes, ma'am," Spencer answered on both their behalf as Laura left the room.
Liv's hands instinctively entwined with Spencer's.
"This isn't how I planned for tonight to go." Liv moaned defeatedly. "I ruined it for us."
"You didn't ruin anything, Liv. I knew there was a chance of this happening. Kia warned me earlier that she suspected you are drinking or thinking about it." Spencer revealed his earlier conversation with the young activist.
"You knew this entire night. When we were in the car? When I told you that I love you? During the crash?" Liv questioned, stunned. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I know you'd do the right thing in the end, and come clean. If not tonight, then later on in the week." Spencer disclosed. "I trust you, Liv. You asked me to let you do this on your own, and that's what I'm going to do."
"Thank you." Liv cooed with tears in her eyes. Her hand caressed Spencer's cheek. "I know this isn't what you had in mind when you pictured the night we finally got together."
"With everything that's happened tonight, and what might happen after tonight, I want to be clear," Spencer spoke seriously, tugging on Liv's hips to pull her closer.
The space between them closed as their lips met in a sensual kiss. Holding the sides of his face, Liv molded with Spencer returning the gentle movements. Licking her bottom lip, Spencer tasted her gloss once more. His tongue massaging hers for dominance, causing Liv to giggle as she let him take the lead. Spencer's lips left hers, trailing down her neck as she held him close. Breathing in her scent, Spencer engraved this moment into the back of his mind, hoping it wouldn't be their last in the coming days.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years
Text
You’ll always be my brother mine; Queen x reader
*Author's note*
Okay get the tissues out my fellow readers because this one WILL make you cry. For this is the LAST chapter with John Deacon in the Rock Angel's life.  After this, Deacy will only be lovingly mentioned but will not have another physical appearance. I also want ALL of you to listen to the music choices down below as well as watch the music video above (cause it will REALLY pull your heartstrings and set the mood for this chapter). Up next we're gonna make quite a huge time leap cause next chapter were gonna get into some current events that has happened with Queen/Rock Angel. So be prepared for the next chapter(s).
MUSIC VIDEO HERE
Taglist:
@plethora-of-things
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@simonedk
@ixchel-9275
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@queensdivas
@queen-paladin
@queendeakyy
@wormzteef
@bohemiansweede
@labessieisallama
@naturalswifty89
@starswin
@isabella-bby
@5sos-wdw
@geek-and-proud
@onebigfangirlworld
@ssa-sadboi
_________________________________________________________
*Nov. 28th, 1997. Deacy's POV*
I had only agreed to come here to do this one last thing. My last music video that I would ever do with Queen, I had already completed my last live performance with Brian and Roger along with Elton back in Paris but without Freddie it just wasn't the same. Now we were making the music video for a song that Brian had written years ago just shortly after Freddie died.
I was sitting by myself along Roger's bar area (we had assembled at his place to do a mock rehearsal of the song before recording tomorrow) with my bass guitar resting on my lap when Roger came in and said.
"You doing okay?"
"Define okay." I told him.
"You're right. Dumb question. But—in all seriousness John, it really means a lot to us that you agreed to do this video."
"All I keep hearing is Freddie telling me 'darling if you don't get in front of that camera, I'll kick your arse from here to Glasgow'." The two of us chuckled softly.
"Well the team's already to go for tomorrow guys, we'll start filming at 9am sharp. We feel good about this?" Brian came up to us and asked.
"Actually, we can't do this video just yet." I told them.
"Why not?" asked Brian. "It's not much like any of our previous videos have been. We're in the perfect location and we're willing to perform this live instead of going through playback."
"It's not about missing something Brian, it's—someone."
"Look Deacy. We all miss him, but he'd still want—"
"I'm not talking about Freddie, Brian." I snapped before taking a deep breath and calming myself down.
"John I don't even know if she'd be interested in wanting to return to work. After the trail she's been—" Roger said softly before exhaling deeply. "But I can give Jack a call and see."
"No need. I booked a flight to Montreux, if I can convince her, we should be back tonight. Late." The two of them looked at each other and Brian said.
"Alright Deacy, we'll let you go get her. But don't get your hopes too high if she says no."
"Believe me, I know what she's going through. I almost didn't want to do this either. It feels wrong even continuing without Freddie, but—with this being the very last time I'll ever perform for Queen. I need at least one more performance with the Rock Angel. You guys need to give me this."
"We are. Bring our angel home." Roger said as he clasped his hand on my shoulder. I nodded before packing my bass up and headed off for the airport.
After a 2 hour flight, I arrived in Montreux airport and got a cab to take me to the Kline vacation home. It was another hour, hour and a half drive but finally the driver pulled up along the driveway. It was completely silence in the front yard, almost like a graveyard.
I got out of the car and walked up the gravel road, up onto the sidewalk and finally up the few stairs before finally standing before the door. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door and waited for a couple of minutes. Soon enough a young girl opened the door, she had long (h/c) and familiar (e/c) that she inherited from her mother.
"Uncle Deacy?"
"Hello Kelly." I greeted with a warm smile. She smiled at me and hugged me.
God she had gotten so big since I last saw her. She was really starting to look more and more like her mother each and every day.
"My dear Kelly, look at you." she looked up at me and said.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was wondering if I could speak to your mum?"
"Yeah, of course. She's down in the basement with the boys." Kelly allowed me to enter inside and the first thing I see as I walk through the door was old Sammy, the Kline family's golden retriever. Already he was showing signs of aging around his nose and eyes. But when he saw me, he raised his head up and I saw his tail wag.
"Hello Sammy. Long time ehh boy?" he stood up and walked towards me and nuzzled against my hand. I stroked down his head when Kelly said.
"That's the first time I've seen him move so much since Bucky died." I turned to her in shock. "Brain tumor. We had to put him down last month and it was hard for all of us, Sammy especially." I looked down at Sammy and he looked up at me with those sad brown eyes of his as he let out a sad, soft whimper.
I scratched through his head as I walked over toward the basement stairs. I opened the door and walked down the U-shaped half-pace staircase. All the while I could hear some orchestra music playing and the sound of some creature bellowing before finally hearing someone say.
"How fast are they?"
"Well we clocked the T-Rex at 32 mph." As I came down to the bottom of the stairs, there at a desk surrounded by books and wearing prescription glasses was my sister dear while on the leather couch playing on the big TV was a movie that I wasn't quite too familiar with.
"T-T-Rex? You said you got a T-Rex?" Georgie quoted alone with the woman on screen while the old man nodded.
"Say again?" Jackson quoted along with the actor on screen.
"We have a T-Rex." The old man repeated. The actor on screen then started acting faint while the woman tried to get him steady and that's when the old man said.
"Dr. Grant, my dear Dr. Sattler."
"Welcome—to Jurassic Park." The twins quoted along with the old man on screen. Then soon enough dinosaurs were shown on the screen and I'll admit it was quite a sight to behold.
Never have I seen practical effects like that when it came to dinosaur films. Whatever film this is, I'll have to check it out for myself.
When I turned towards (y/n) I noticed that she turned her head away from her books and paper just to watch the television. I shook my head at her. Some things never change. I even saw her mouth out the next quote that was spoken on screen.
"Some things never change with you sister dear." She turned around to face me, as did the boys and they raced towards me exclaiming.
"Uncle John! Uncle John!" soon I was tackled down to the ground by these big boys. I smiled down at them as the two of them talked over each other trying to speak to me.
"Well, well, well. Look what the cat threw up. And I see you finally cut that raggedy mullet of yours." My sister teased.
"Haha, very funny." I mocked up at her.
"What brings you around here?" she asked me.
"A brother figure can't see his surrogate sister anymore?" I asked as I stood back up with the twins still clinging onto my sides.
"Not that I'm complaining but, you haven't really came around since......" she looked away before grabbing the remote and turning the movie off.
"Awww mum! We wanted to keep watching the film!" the twins whined.
"Georgie, Jackson you both have seen the film over a million times. Besides you two got chores to do that you both forgot to do yesterday."
"But, but, but....."
"Now boys. You mind your mother and don't argue back with her." I lectured them giving them my father eye.
"Yes Uncle John." They both said glumly before they walked up the stairs.
"I swear they both got their father's handsome looks but their uncle Jensen's laziness." (y/n) complained which made me softly chuckle.
"They're little boys. And believe me it'll get worse, cause they're what seven now?" she nodded. "So yeah get ready. Ten is probably the age they'll really push your buttons."
"Well thanks for the heads up."
*My POV*
Now don't get me wrong, I love Deacy and I'm always happy to see him (on the rare occasions that he does come around) but this visit has something else written all over it.
"What film was that exactly?" he asked me.
"A Steven Spielberg masterpiece, Jurassic Park. Since it gets scary at around the middle part I don't allow the boys to watch this film alone without either me or Jack in the room."
"And what's with all the books? I haven't seen you this swamped since your first days as Miami's intern."
"Well—believe it or not. I'm finishing college."
"Really?"
"Uh-huh. You see since I left college once I became the Rock Angel, and with me taking a step back from the spotlight for a while. I enrolled at a University here about to graduate with an English degree."
"I'm proud of you (y/n). Really I am. And—I know he would be too if he heard that." See there it was. The reason behind his sadness. Sometimes Deacy couldn't even say his name without feeling such agonizing heartache. His eyes that were once filled with light had diminished and rarely sparked up anymore.
"What about you? How are you and the other two aging Queens getting along?" I asked as I took off my reading glasses.
"We're getting by. Day by day. We're—actually about to do a video for a song Brian's made." Okay, I think I know where this is going.
"Deacy—I appreciate the offer but I just.....don't think I'm ready to get back into the limelight just yet. Plus I got school to finish up. And then there are the kids and Jack. The press made my life hell throughout the trial and I refuse to go through that again. So you can tell Roger that I'm not interested."
"Actually it wasn't Roger's idea for me to come down here and have you work with us again. Nor was it Brian's." I looked at him in shock.
"You mean you want me to be a part of this video you're doing?"
"Yes. They told me you might not want to but please, sister dear, for old time's sake. You wouldn't want to break an old man's heart now would you?" he proceeded with the puppy dog eyes and with that greying hair on his head it just made him look like a sad old puppy dog.
"Why must you always get your way?"
"Because I'm your brother and you fall for it every time." I sighed heavily and said.
"Let me get a hold of Jack at the hospital and see what he says." I stood up as Deacy came behind me and said in an alarmed tone.
"Wait? What happened to Jack? Is he alright? He didn't do anything stupid did he?"
"Deacy, Deacy relax. Jack's fine he's with our son."
"Wait you're....." it was then he finally noticed my body shape. The post-pregnant belly and weight gain.
"Was. Yeah. Just 2 weeks ago we had our new baby boy."
"Oh (y/n). Congratulations. But—then why is he......"
"The thing is, he wasn't supposed to come till next January. I gave birth to him prematurely by 2 months." I said sadly as I finally arrived at the phone and touched it.
"I'm so sorry poppet. Had I known I would've never—"
"No need for apologizes or sympathy Deacy. Like I told you once a long time ago about my parents. I didn't tell you so you have no reason to feel sorry for me. Besides our boy's strong. He's shown great improvement. Doctor says we could possibly bring him home come this weekend."
"That's good. But knowing Roger and Brian, they'll be wanting pictures of him shortly."
"And what about you? Don't you want to see a picture of your new nephew?"
"Of course I do." There was a bit of hesitation to the way he responded but I set it aside for now as he asked me, "What's the lad's name?" After he said that, it was my turn to hesitate cause I didn't want Deacy to grow sad again.
"You promise me you won't get too heartbroken when I tell you?"
"So long as you didn't name him Adam, Paul or Steve I think we'll be good." I turned to face my brother and I said.
"It was no difficult decision, Jack and I agreed that this name just suited him perfectly and we—we knew he would've loved it too. Our last and newborn baby's name is Freddie Mercury Kline." I immediately picked up the phone and rang the hospital for Jack.
After awhile of Jack and I talking back and forth between one another, he agreed that he could handle the kids for a couple of days, man down the house, and even look over my final paper that I have to turn in in a couple of weeks for a class.
"Thanks babe. How's our boy doing?"
'Ahh (y/n) you should see him, he's glowing like the sun right now. Maybe when we do get to take him home, we can even get the rest of the Queen family to see him.'
"We don't want to overwhelm him so much." I lectured.
'I know. But I think it's time we told the rest of Queen didn't we? Especially after who we named him after.'
"Well half the job is done. Only Brian and Roger need to know."
'Yeah. Hey can you give me regards to Deacy?'
"Sure thing love. We'll stay here till you get home."
'Baby you know Kelly's old enough to keep the boys under control till I come back.'
"I don't know Jack, I mean yeah she's a pre-teen but I don't....."
'Trust me (y/n). She's clever just like her mom. She knows right from wrong. The kids will be fine. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll head home right now so that way she won't have to be responsible for too long.' I rolled my eyes and said.
"Thank you Jack. I'll be back on Monday, I promise."
'Take as much time as you need. Besides, you need to catch up with the guys.'
"You're right love. I love you Jack, give my baby a kiss for me before you leave."
'Will do mama lion. Give the guys my love for me when you see them.'
"I will." We then said bye to each other before I hung up the phone. "Alright, Jack's on his way from the hospital, he said Kelly can watch the twins until he comes back."
"She's responsible that girl of yours. Reminds me of you when we first met. You made sure everything got organized and planned out accordingly. Hell you managed to keep the four of us in line." I smiled and gathered up my school stuff to take into the study room.
After turning the TV, off and putting my books away I called the kids into the master bedroom while I packed a weekend night bag.
"Okay now listen you three, mum's going away for the weekend with your uncle Deacy to see your other uncle as well as your godfather to do some work. Your father is on his way home from seeing your brother, and until he gets back you're in charge Kelly."
"What!?" the twins proclaimed.
"You heard her." Kelly sassed down at her younger brothers.
"Now you all know the rules, stay inside, no trashing the house, no answering the phone for any reason at all unless the caller ID says its your father or another family member. And absolutely; No one. Sets. Foot. In my study or studio or else." I firmly stated to them, especially the last part.
"We promise mum." They all choired out.
"Good. Now stay safe, and listen to your sister boys. I'll be back on Monday. Now come on kisses and cuddles." I knelt down and got a hug from my three big kids.
I even told them to give their uncle Deacy cuddles and kisses, which he happily accepted, before the two of us headed out back for the taxi car to take us back to the airport.
After a few hours in the air, Deacy and I arrived into London by about 7pm and this time I paid a cabbie to take us over to Roger's place. God all this traveling is really making me jet lagged right now. I only hope I have enough energy to record tomorrow.
The next day we were all in the recording studio to film the music video of Brian's song. I was sitting at the piano with Brian who was giving me the rundown on how to play the tune when it came for my appearance in the video.
"So—how have things been for you lately?" asked Brian. I looked up at him, "I mean it's just—you went underground after the trail and we—got worried."
"I'm sorry I worried you guys. I just......needed some time to myself and my family, that's all."
"No, no we understand. God what—what happened that day was extremely traumatic for you and—"
"Brian. Can.....can we not discuss anything regarding him. Please?"
"Sure, sure, absolutely." God sometimes I hate it when Brian wakes eggshells around me.
"I'm finishing up school."
"Really?" I nodded.
"I'm studying Creative writing. By next spring I'll graduate from college and finally get my diploma."
"That's wonderful news (y/n). I'm so proud of you." he wrapped an arm around me and gave me a one armed hug and kissed the top of my head.
"Also—there's.....a new Kline in the household." He looked down at me surprised.
"You mean—"
"Had him two weeks ago. Prematurely though." His brows knitted in that familiar sympathetic way.
"Oh (y/n), I'm so sorry. Are they....."
"He is doing just fine. Even for being born 2 months early, he's already got the Kline lion strength."
"I'm sure he does. What's the lads name?" I took out my wallet from my inner coat pocket and took out a picture of him from his incubator.
"Jack and I both agreed on the name together. Bri, meet your newest nephew. Freddie Mercury Kline." His eyes looked right at mine, with awe but also a hint of sadness. But a wide smile spread across his face as he softly laughed out.
"God what he would've said knowing that he got one of us to finally name our next kid after him."
"Probably something like 'about fucking time darling. I was beginning to think I'd been neglected.'" We both chuckled softly.
"That is something he would say. Oh and I bet he would've doted on this little chap, just as he had with all of your other kids." I nodded solemnly.
"God I wish he were still here." He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and lay his head down on top of mine, his curls gingerly stroking my forehead and nose.
"We all do poppet. We all do." I sniffled softly but pushed back the tears.
"Alright, enough of this chatter. Now for this part of the song it goes like this right?" I said shrugging him off before playing the chords he had taught me at the butt-crack of dawn before we even came to the studio.
Finally we were ready to film the video. First Brian, Rog and Deacy got into position with Bri at the piano, Deacy on a stool with a bass guitar, and Roger in the back with his drumkit.
I couldn't help but be touched at the reminder of cups full of beer and a champagne glass sitting right along the piano's edge. It was—a nice little touch that Freddie would've appreciated.
This music video......I'll admit that this is probably my favorite out of all the Queen music videos. Because now people will get to see what it was like on a daily basis with us. Almost like they are a familiar face stepping into the recording studio.
The director called for quiet on the set and I stayed back for awhile until it would be my time to go up there and soon the director called out action! The camera's rolled and I watched as a camera crane came down from the ceiling at a slow pace.
I then saw at men on the mobile camera slowly moved closer across the studio to really give that first person POV as Brian sang the first verse and played the piano. Already hearing him sing this song made my heart .
*Brian*
A hand above the water An angel reaching for the sky Is it raining in heaven Do you want us to cry?
And everywhere the broken-hearted On every lonely avenue No one could reach them No one but you
One by one Only the good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun And life goes on Without you
Next up was Roger. The cameras slowly came towards him as he played the simple drumbeat and he took over the vocals of the second verse. By that time, Brian had switched over to his Red Special and stood a few feet away from Deacy while I took over at the piano.
But to surprise the fans; I had a hoodie to cover my entire face as I now took over playing the piano.
*Roger*
Another tricky situation I get to drownin' in the blues And I find myself thinkin' Well, what would you do?
Yes, it was such an operation Forever paying every due Hell, you made a sensation (sensation) You found a way through (found a way through)
*All*
One by one Only the good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun *Roger*
We'll remember Forever
When it was finally my turn, I took the hoodie off and proceeded to play the piano as I sung the third voice. My heart was heavy and my throat felt like clenching up but I kept my sorrow at bay in order to get this done in one take.
Cause I knew if I didn't, then there's probably no way I could keep my composure after three takes of singing this verse. Because all that came through my mind were the good memories of Freddie, and how I couldn't even believe that he was really gone. Even though almost 6 years have passed.
*Me*
And now the party must be over I guess we'll never understand The sense of your leaving Was it the way it was planned?
And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye
By the end of it all, the video would show Queen and the Rock Angel singing the song with such sorrow but passion as we sung it in honor of our beloved Freddie.
Soon all four of us were gathered around the piano, Deacy still sitting on his stool, but Brian, Roger and I were gathered close together with music sheets in our hands. I stood by Roger and would sing the first line before finding myself unconsciously leaning against him for support.
Thankfully he didn't see anything wrong with it as he wrapped an arm around me and took the next part before Brian would be the one to finish it since he was the one to start it.
*All*
One by one Only the good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun *Me*
Cryin' for nothing *Roger*
Cryin' for no one *Brian*
No one but you
The video would then close off as the camera would rise up over the four of us gathered around the piano. The lights shutting off and us acting like we were now leaving the studio after a hard day's work.
"Cut! Okay Brian, come and see what you like and what we need to reshoot." The director called out and both he and Brian began speaking to each other as Bri reviewed the footage.
As I watched Bri talk to the director, I felt a slight nudge at my shoulder and I looked up to see Deacy. His eyes were sad but the smile across his face held some warmth to it. I leaned my head against his chest and I felt his hand rest on top of my head, gently scratching my scalp.
"You still got it poppet."
"Singing to the kids still keeps my pipes in check." I felt him gently kiss the top of my head when the director called out.
"Alright Mrs. Kline. We're gonna runback from your verse, your hair got in the way of your face too much." I nodded and soon someone from the hair department came and brushed my hair back out of my face. As well as take a couple of hairpins to make sure the strands didn't get in my face again.
Deacy walked back towards his stool and Brian went to grab his guitar once again while Rog twirled his sticks.
"Okay playback from the third verse." The music picked back up and the cameras rolled and I sung the third verse once again, this time I could feel myself choking up as I sang the verse again.
This continued to go on with reshoots, trying to make this video even better. By the fifth time singing it, I needed to step out and take a breather because at this point I was just about to breakdown crying. Luckily for me, Deacy was right there for me the whole time till I calmed down and was ready to go back to recording.
Four hours later, the video was complete. Once the director as well as the boys were satisfied with the results, it was time to head home. Roger insisted that I stay with him the next couple of days (because he wanted to know more about his new godson) as well as catch up with one another. As I placed my coat back on over me, I heard Deacy's voice say my name softly.
"What is it Deacy?"
"Can I—can I talk to you for a moment? Privately." The look in his eyes were full of regret, almost like he didn't even want to tell me whatever it was he wanted to say.
"Sure Deacy, let me just tell dad to wait up for me." He nodded while I raced off towards Roger and told him that I needed to talk with Deacy.
From behind his new circular prescription shades (kinda similar to what ole Ozzy has), I could see that he must've known what Deacy wanted to tell me.
I walked back towards Deacy who took my hand and led me out of the studio and out into the abandoned hallways. No one was there but us two.
"Alright John Deacon, what's really going on?" he refused to look me in the eye.
"I—the reason why I wanted you to be a part of this music video was because I......I wanted to work with you. One last time." My heart slowly sunk. "Freddie he—he was what made Queen the way it was from the beginning. Without him there......th-there just isn't any need for Queen to continue on."
I remained silent as John confessed his heartbreaking news. I could see the redness of tears at the corner of his eyes.
"I just can't continue with all this. Not without him. This—was my last contribution to Queen. And—I wanted it to also be the last time I worked alongside the Rock Angel as well." He went silent again. "I'm sorry love." He sniffled.
I reached out and softly took his hands in mine. When he felt my touch, his eyes finally looked right at me. I looked at him with pure empathy before walking closer to him till I finally embraced him.
Play video
Oh my poor brother, I felt him tense up underneath my touch. It was almost like he was expecting me to go full on hysterical about him retiring from music forever.
"I was a fan before I met you guys. I've read every interview you guys ever did, seen all the concerts. And never have I seen a band be so involved with each other as Queen has. Like me, Freddie took you under his wing and allowed you to soar. You never just became the 'bass player', or the 'quiet guy in the corner'. No you, John Richard Deacon, are the most vital and important piece that was needed for Queen to finally rise to the top. And Fred saw that in you."
I cupped his face in my hands as I continued,
"If this is what will bring you peace, I'll understand."
"You knew my reason all along, didn't you?" he said. I only gave him a soft smile before I embraced him.
"You will always be my brother mine." He slowly raised his arms and wrapped them around my back and he whispered his last words to me.
"And you'll forever be my sister dear." We remained there in each other's arms. Embracing each other as tightly as we could, inhaling each other's scents, remembering each other's touch.
Because I knew that once we let go, this would be the last time we would ever see each other again.
Finally I forced myself to release him from my embrace. I looked down sadly trying not to cry in front of him. I felt his hand cup the side of my face and his forehead press up against mine.
Our noses softly grazing one another's until I finally felt him give me one final kiss on the cheek.
When I opened my eyes, I only saw his back and heard as his shoes clicked along the hallway. That image would forever be imprinted into my brain for as long as I live.
"Goodbye......my sweet, sweet John Deacon." I whispered softly. The tears then softly fell down my face as he finally turned left and disappeared from my sights, leaving me all alone in the hallway.
After a while I finally left the studio and met Roger at his car. The hidden tearstains still glistening on my face and the occasional sniffle coming out. He didn't say a word as he looked at me knowingly, I looked up at him and ran into his chest and softly wept into his shoulder.
His father instincts toward me immediately kicked in as he wrapped his arms around me and tried his best to comfort me. God I tried so badly to not let this affect me. I knew where Deacy was coming from and I do respect his decision, I truly do, but—I just can't believe that even after this I'll never get to see my brother mine again.
It was like losing my parents all over again, except this was much, much worse. This time he'll be so close yet so far away.
*FF to May 14th, 1998*
I had done it. I was a college graduate at last. Earlier today I had finally done the famed college graduation walk that all my previous friends in college got to do all those years ago, and I was an official college graduate.
(Y/n) Kline, Bachelor's degree in English with a concentration in Creative Writing.
It was late afternoon and I was sitting up along the balcony of the vacation home with a glass of wine in hand. We all had just gotten back from a family dinner in celebration of my graduation, now I wanted to be at peace and watch the sunset.
Because starting tomorrow, I decided that it was time to head back to our home in London and I wanted to get back to work.
"Thought I'd find you up here." I heard Jack's voice say. I smiled as I turned towards him.
"I was wondering if you'd be joining me."
"Well you know as well as I do that if those twins of ours are left unattended during their bath, they'll drown the entire bathroom in soap again."
"God that was such a nightmare to clean up." I laughed as he came up and sat down close beside me on my lawn chair. I noticed in his hands he held some mail. "What all did we get?"
"Well some bills, junk mail, some congratulation cards from the family back home in America, as well as from Brian and Roger, and.....that's it." I extended my hand out and he handed me the mail and I began sorting out the business mail from the personal one.
It was then I came across an interesting letter. One I never though I'd expect to see.
"What's this?" I turned the letter towards him and that's when Jack's face went pale. For you see the letter was addressed to Jack but the place it was from is what had me curious. The letter was from the London Police Academy.
"Oh shit." He muttered.
"C'mon Jack spill it, what is this?"
"I really didn't want to make a big deal out of this, especially since these past few months were all about you."
"Jack." I warned him since he was getting off the subject. He sighed heavily before he took the letter from my hands and said.
"Okay. Do you remember when I had gone up to London, and I told you that I was just going up there to check on the house?" I nodded. "Well, I lied. The truth is—I went to apply for the London Police Academy because—I want to become a police officer, and eventually a criminal detective."
"Jack."
"I know I must sound crazy but, this was my decision. After what happened to us with—you know. For the past year and a half and then....dealing with the trail. It put all of us through hell. And I—I don't want us or for anyone else to go through the pain that we went through. That bastard nearly tore this family apart, and it was because of the law that he got away with it every time. Creeps like him shouldn't get off scot-free."
I hugged my husband as tightly as I could and I said with a wide smile.
"I'm so proud of you."
"Really?" I separated from him and continued.
"You're my husband and you've been so supportive of me for years. It's about time I was supportive of you in your dream career."
"Well I don't even know if I even got in, that's probably what this letter is."
"Then what are you waiting for? Open it!" I chuckled and opened up the envelope and soon took out the folded letter and read it to himself.
"I—I got in."
"Oh my darling that's fantastic! Congrats!" I hugged and kissed him.
"Well hold on, this just means that I'm a potential candidate for a chance at working for the London Police force. There's still like a six month process when it comes to actually getting in. Right now I'm just joining the academy for some training."
"Still, that's something to be proud of. Oh Jack, you're gonna be a fantastic officer. And soon a world-class detective. A regular Sherlock Holmes if you will." I teased the last part as I bopped his nose.
"I don't think I can be that good. But—I'll try my best. For you, for our kids, and for every other stalking victims out there. The law may have failed us, but I won't let it fail for those in the future." I smiled at my loving husband and cupped his face and kissed him. "Oh and there's something for you inside."
"Really? Another surprise?"
"Well it's more like a small package. And sadly it's not from me." I looked at him confused.
"Then who is it from?" he shrugged but led me inside back into our bedroom where the small package lay at the foot of our bed. I opened it up and inside there was a single videotape. It had no marking or writing on it to indicate what it was.
The two of us looked at each other perplexed before I went towards our VHS player and insert the tape into it. I turned the TV on and the screen was blue as the tape finally began to play.
Coming up on the screen sitting right on a couch was none other than John.
"Hello (y/n), Jack. And the young Kline cubs, if they are there." He softly chuckled with a slight smile. Jack sat down beside me on the foot of our bed as we continued to watch Deacy's tape. "(Y/n), my darling sister dear. I know that—my leaving from Queen may seem like another abandonment but I swear to you it's not."
"Seems like this is just for you both, I'll just—"
"And Jack you stay right there with her because this is for you too." Jack looked at the telly surprised.
"Holy shit that was creepy."
"Our Deacy knows all." I wrapped my arms around my husband's arm as Deacy continued.
"Now—I have known you both for a long time. And both of you have equally been such an important part of my life. So it breaks my heart to know that this—might be the last time we meet face to face. But there is no doubt in my mind that you both are going to change the world. (Y/n), my lovely Rock Angel, you continue to spread your wings and fly. I know that you're going to continue to be the brightest and biggest solo female rockstar this world will ever know. And Jack, my pupil, my dearest American friend. You continue to protect your family, because if there's one final piece of advice that I can give you, it's that family is forever. Friends may come and go, but family is forever. And I know that whatever you choose to do with your life, your wife is gonna be there to support you. You both were meant for each other. I love you both so much. Continue to love, to give, to inspire, and......be happy. Bye."
The screen went black for a moment before he came back on screen and he began to say.
"Kelly, Jackson, Georgie and—little baby Freddie." At that point I stopped the tape and I turned to face Jack. I could already see the faint tears in his eyes.
Play video
"So this is really it huh?" Jack asked. I nodded. "I—can't believe we'll never get to actually talk to Deacy again." I rested my head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"This is just his way of grieving. Deacy's very fragile right now. You know how his childhood was, and losing Freddie at three years his father's age. It's like—losing two father figures to him."
"I know. It's just that....." Jack looked at me with tears in his eyes.
Jack really did look up to Deacy for everything. After all they've been through for over 10 years together, to Jack it was like he was losing a very good friend.
"I know my love, I know. But this is what Deacy needs. To be with just his family now, and not be reminded of the pain of losing Freddie. And who knows—maybe, and this is a slight maybe, we might see him again. But until then we need to respect his wishes." Jack nodded and the two of us cuddled close together as we were both thinking the same thing.
We hope that you're happy at home John Richard Deacon.
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tiarasnteakettles · 3 years
Text
Some updates.
It’s Sunday, so it’s always a last minute scramble to get packages put together, weighed, and postage printed for hopefully a Monday post office trip. Danish Ruby and Cambridge Loveknot tiaras are STILL NOT HERE and I’m waiting 5 more business days  before filing a dispute. Obviously this past #tiarapocalypse is taking longer than ever - between holiday delays in addition to COVID related delays, it’s safe to say a lot of folks aren’t happy with me. This isn’t even beginning to touch on what is happening to me personally in addition to that. I’m kinda hoping what I’m going through right now can be a teachable moment for someone else, however, so I’m just gonna get to it.
My partner, the one who preps my art files and sends them off to have stickers and cards made, as well as take me to the post office whenever I have packages to send - well, he’s been gone since the week after Halloween 2020. Each week, we think he’ll be home the following week, then something happens to prevent that. Then the next week. Then the next. His father has dementia and needs round the clock care - and his mom, through some poor life choices, isn’t in any condition to do so. This is where it starts to get teachable. See, they’re in their 70′s, well past retirement age, and should have plenty of benefits to help get the care they need. This family is VERY well off. Why is their only son nearly being fired from his job for this extended absence to care for them? Where is the money for home healthcare, transportation, etc. if they are, essentially, rich? Well, turns out all those years of cruises, gambling, expensive restaurants every night, and more - have taken their toll.  They did not set anything aside for when the inevitable happens and they become too old to care for themselves.  No insurance, no plans, no money. Nothing. And if you’re an american like me, you know damn well the government systems leave much to be desired. In their case, they’ve managed to get 12 hours of a nurse to come help out per week.  12 hours a week to help them bathe, use the restroom, prepare meals, pick up prescriptions, run errands like getting groceries, etc. It’s not nearly enough.
And so each month goes by, my partner still can’t come home because there’s nothing in place to help his parents if he leaves. And of course we’re angry.  But we’re past the point of anger, being angry doesn’t do anything.  They spent all their money. They didn’t care about themselves, or their son, enough to save a single penny for this part of their lives and chose instead to blow it all on wining and dining and travel. How the money disappeared is of no importance at this point. What matters is the now, and the now is that he is trapped there. No one is expecting him to abandon his parents. I wouldn’t either if I was in his place. And so, while I’m about 11 years younger than him, I still wanted to ask my mom a pretty uncomfortable question: “What happens when you and my stepfather are too old to take care of yourselves? Do y’all have insurance plans or anything for when that happens? Anything set aside to cover things like nurses or transportation or doctors?”
She said, “Nope! Whatever happens, happens.”
She made it pretty clear that I’m expected to leave whatever life I’ve built for myself by that point and come home to care for them - “because your sister won’t,” So I guess the moral here is if you’re in your 20′s, 30′s, 40′s. If you haven’t had this kind of talk with your family - maybe you ought to soon. Don’t get completely blindsided like we have.  I am intellectually disabled and chronically ill. I need help managing daily tasks. I don’t have a drivers’ license because I can’t drive, and I’m immunocompromised so I can’t really leave this house during a pandemic.  It’s hard to take care of myself, let alone keep up with Patreon and the shop (the only thing paying my bills).
The delays from the holidays and now covid are one thing, but having to manage all of this all by myself is also difficult. I’ve been at it 4 months now. I can’t even use the washer to launder my clothes, there’s some sort of leak and he’s not here to look at it and I can’t afford to pay someone to come out and look at it. People drop off groceries at my door to make sure I eat.  When my best friend has a spare moment during the onslaught of classes, every other week or so, he’ll pick up a bunch of my packages and take them to the post office. That’s part of what’s taking so long. I may print the label and pack the order, but it could be sitting in the outgoing bin for weeks before being taken to post. That’s not his job, I’m not about to remind him or beg to come more often. He has his own life and taking care of me isn’t his obligation. So yeah, things are slow. No, I don’t know when things will be better. And for the love of god, talk to your parents about their future plans if they have any so you can be prepared.
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chocoluckchipz · 3 years
Text
A Soulmate for Christmas - 4
< Previous
Marinette rushed through the hallways to the kitchen. She’d been absent for far too long. Hopefully, Maman hadn’t sent out a search party to find her yet. Sometimes, she worried too much.
Not this time, apparently. When Marinette finally returned to the kitchen, Sabine was giving her work to another server with a smile on her face. "Take these next, dear.”
"Oh. Coconut. I love those. May I steal one?" 
Marinette froze. That... was not a server.
Adrien gave her mother the most killer set of puppy eyes she’d ever seen, picking the tray up. His jacket was gone, leaving him sporting only a shirt and a vest, just like all the other male servers at the party. Only his were of much better quality. 
Sabine offered him a macaroon from her board. "Take this one and leave the arranged ones for the guests." Her gaze finally caught Marinette. "Sweetheart. There you are. I was starting to worry."
"I got caught up with something. I’m sorry, Maman. I’ll get right to it." Marinette walked closer, looking at Adrien. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping." He shoved the macaron into his mouth and chewed. "Your mother was looking for you, and since I’m pretty sure it’s my fault you were missing, I thought it was only fair for me to help out."
"Thanks, but I’m here now. You can go."
"As you wish." The tray in his hands, Adrien turned to the exit and was gone before Marinette could object. 
“Such a nice young man,” Sabine said as soon as they were left alone. “We’d better think about how we can thank him. He’s been helping me for the last fifteen minutes. Can you imagine? Just walked in, asked about you, and offered to help. I’ll leave him some macarons. He seems to have a sweet tooth. Speaking of which… I think the next batch is done. Where did I put those oven mittens?" 
Marinette nibbled on her lip. How much had he said? Maman knew about her soulmate, but she didn’t seem to realize that he was Adrien. How did she even not recognize he was Adrien Agreste, the boy whose photos had been plastered all over Marinette’s room for ages?
"Did… he tell you anything about himself?"
"Just that he’s your friend,” Sabine answered, taking the pastries out of the oven. “Why? Is there anything—" 
A loud thud echoed through the room as the baking sheet her mother was just taking out hit the ground. Sabine pushed the young girl who was working beside her away from a pot of hot, steaming liquid that was falling sideways. The girl stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Sabine wasn't as fortunate. She tried to dodge but was a moment too late as the boiling liquid splashed all over her hands, scalding the skin.
"Maman!" Marinette rushed to the woman. 
“I’m so sorry,” the girl almost cried from the side. “I didn’t mean to… I don't know how it slipped. I—”
Marinette didn't listen, rushing her mother to the nearest sink. She turned the tap on, made sure the water was cool, and put Sabine’s reddening hands under the stream. Her mother sighed with relief. The girl she saved quickly got to cleaning as she continued to apologize. Sabine tried to play it down, insisting it wasn’t a big deal and she would be back to working in no time. Yet a few minutes later, her skin started to blister.
“You’re going home, Maman. This needs to be treated.”
“Marinette, I can’t,” Sabine spoke quietly. “We have a contract to honour…"
"I’ll deal with it. You’re going home. You can’t work like that."
"But—"
"No objections. I’m calling someone right now to take you home. I’ll finish this on my own."
"What happened?" Adrien materialized by her side. One look at her mother’s hands and he was pulling out his cellphone. “My driver can take her straight to a hospital.”
Sabine tried to protest but neither of them listened.
“It doesn't look that bad, but maybe you’re right. Taking extra precaution wouldn't hurt.”
“It never does. I'll tell him to stay with her and drive her home after. If she needs any prescriptions, he’ll take care of that too.”
And there he was. That caring man Kagami and Chloe had told her about was shining through, not hesitating to help others, even if that meant sacrificing his own comfort for those who needed help.
“Okay.” He put his device away. “Gorilla will be by the rear entrance in a few minutes. Let’s wrap her hands and get her there.” 
Before Marinette could concentrate on what to do, Adrien found a pair of clean kitchen towels and soaked them in cool water. They wrapped them around Sabine’s hands and headed to the appointed place. Five minutes later, the largest man Marinette had ever seen was driving her mother away.
“She’ll be fine,” Adrien spoke, standing right behind her. “Gorilla will keep us updated on what's happening.”
She couldn't even raise her eyes to look at him. How could he be so kind to her after the way she treated him just now? Marinette clutched her hands together, whispering instead, “Thank you.”
"No worries,” Adrien replied, hesitantly reaching for her shoulder. A few gentle pats for reassurance, and he withdrew. “I believe we have a job to do. Shall we get to it, my Lady? I’m almost out of macarons to serve.”
She turned around, arching her eyebrow. Not that she didn't like the nickname, but they haven't even talked yet. When did she become his Lady? What was up with that cocky, smouldering look on his face, and why were there crumbs all over his vest?
"You’d have macarons to serve if you stopped eating them." She pointed to the evidence.
"But they are delicious."
"They are for guests."
"And I am one."
"Then why are you here, parading as help?"
He leaned closer, their noses almost touching as he grinned. "Because my Lady needs help, and as her cat, I cannot refuse."
That arrogant smirk! She both loved and hated it. Wanted to smack him and kiss those lips of his. He was so much nicer in her imagination. His friends described him as a saint. Not this annoying, cocky dork!
"Don’t get in my way, or you’re out." She turned around and stomped to their bakery station in the kitchen. There was too much work still to do. Marinette wasn’t even sure where to start. Thankfully, the girl had cleaned the mess. Perhaps, Marinette should start with seeing what ingredients they still have to figure out what to make. Wasn't there a list Maman made? Where did it go? 
A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. Adrien leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Close your eyes."
"I don’t have time for this."
"I know, but trust me. Close your eyes. Please."
She grumbled but obliged him. The quicker she did whatever it was he wanted, the faster she could continue. If only his touch and closeness didn’t send her heart into overdrive…
"Now, breathe in. Deep and slow."
She did, oxygen filling every part of her lungs.
"Breathe out. Slowly."
She let it all out and followed Adrien’s instructions a few more times until he tenderly kissed the crown of her head. "Now, let’s do this. You bake and assemble. I serve. And afterwards, perhaps, you’ll give me a chance to explain everything."
She opened her eyes, exhaustion and the chaos in her mind somewhat subdued. "You don’t give up, do you?"
"I’ve waited for far too many years to let a simple misunderstanding stand in my way." 
***
"I think this is the last of it," Marinette stuffed the last few mixing bowls in the trunk of her car. "Thank you… for everything. I know it’s cliché, but I couldn’t have done this without you."
"Perhaps, you’ll let me explain the situation as a reward for all my hard work?"
His cellphone rang. Adrien glanced at the screen and refused the call. "It’s Chloe. I’ll call her back. So, my reward?"
His phone rang again, Adrien refused the call once more and looked at Marinette. "Please? It won’t take long."
"Your friends—"
The pestering sound split the space between them for the third time.
Marinette smiled at him."Take it." 
"I don’t want—"
"I’ll wait. I promise. Take it."
He pressed the button and put the speaker on, the familiar voice of Chloe Bourgeois filling the space. "Adrinkins, you’d better have a good explanation for hanging up on me."
"I'm kind of in the middle of something right now," Adrien said. "Do you mind if I call you back in a bit?"
"Okay, fine. But just so you know, while you were prowling about, we put on a show, and Gami’s living with me now."
"I’ve been officially disowned," Kagami deadpanned. "You may congratulate me now."
"Welcome to the club?" Adrien chuckled. "I was hoping she would be more reasonable."
"She’ll come around eventually… maybe," Kagami said. "She thinks it’s one of those childish desires of mine, and I’ll come to my senses soon enough."
"But you two are soulmates? You have the marks to prove it."
"Soulmate marks or not, I’m not what Tomoe Tsurugi considers ‘best’ for their family," Chloe answered. "And I’m sure I don’t have to explain that woman’s obsession with ‘sacrificing in the family’s name’ to you. Oh! Before I forget. You were adorable as a waiter, Adrinkins. I’ve snapped a few pictures. Will post to our group chat later."
"Sure. Is that all? Can I go now?"
"Tell him about Marinette," Kagami whispered. "About our conversation."
"Oh, right," Chloe grumbled. "We told your lady-love everything. About Kagami and you and me and all the fake-ness of your engagement and non-existence of your dating life. If she knows what’s good for her, you should be good."
Adrien’s eyes locked on Marinette. "You told her everything?"
"We spared her the sappy stories of you being depressed for months at a time over the whole ‘can’t find my soulmate’ thing," Kagami replied. 
“The constant, crying phone calls,” Chloe added. “The ice cream we had to bring over to our ‘Find the Ladybug’ brainstorming sessions.”
“All the pep talks we’ve given you,” Kagami finished. “And the few private detectives you hired to find her. Otherwise, you have no secrets from her now."
"You’re welcome, Adrinkins! Now, go. Adios. Call us when you get a date. We’ll celebrate."
"I will." Adrien ended the call. A blush raged across his cheeks as he lifted his eyes to Marinette. "So, uh... that’s why you didn’t kick my ass out of the kitchen?"
"You have good friends." Marinette smiled. "They care about you a lot."
"Does that mean I’m forgiven?"
She nodded. "Only if you forgive me for freaking out on you."
He grabbed her hand, bringing it to the lovesick grin on his lips. "I never held that against you. You had all the rights in the universe to be pissed at me."
His lips brushed against her hand, the mark of a black cat lighting up the space around them. "I know we haven't known each other for that long, but we aren't soulmates for nothing. I really like you. You're driven and passionate. Kind and creative. You value family and are an amazing cook. Perhaps fate knew a thing or two when it paired us together. I’d really love a chance to get to know you better, Marinette."
His eyes sparkled with hope, a slight undercurrent of worry lurking beneath. Marinette couldn’t refuse him even if she wanted to. He really did seem like a great guy. "I’d like that too. You aren’t so bad yourself. Not perfect, but decent enough." 
It was a total lie because who was she kidding? He was perfect! Didn’t mean she wanted to feed that already inflated ego of his.
"Really?" He leaned forward. "So, all my fame, looks, and money don’t make me perfect in your eyes?"
Marinette huffed, pulling her hand away just so she could push his way-too-close face away with her finger. "Not even close,” she teased, tapping his nose. “You’re standing here only because of what your friends told me."
"Share. What did they say about me?"
She let out a giggle. "Nothing too horrible."
"Well, now, you’re scaring me. Did they tell you about my feather allergies?"
"Nope, but you just did."
"Lactose intolerance?"
She chuckled. "Wrong again."
"Social inadequacy?"
Marinette couldn’t hold back a laugh. 
"I'm low-key freaking out. What did those two say?"
She took a moment to calm down before replying. "They told me about your big, kind heart, one that doesn't think twice about sacrificing its own desires and comfort for the sake of others. I saw it for myself today when you helped my mother. That’s precious and rare. I like that."
He looked at her in awe for a moment before blurting out, "Can I kiss you right now, or do I have to wait until our first official date?"
Marinette laughed again. "You should’ve just gone for it. Now, the moment’s ruined."
"Ugh, bummer." Adrien mockingly pouted. "Then, tell me, what are you doing for Christmas this year?"
"Nursing my parents back to health."
"Would you mind some company?"
"Don’t you have your family to spend Christmas with?"
He shrugged. "Not really. My father has become a Grinch since… well, since Mom passed away. And I’m sure Chloe and Kagami wouldn’t mind if their third wheel would finally leave them alone."
"They did mention you aren’t on the best terms with your father."
Adrien sighed, leaning on her car. "We aren’t officially feuding or anything. It’s just that… when Mom passed away, Father became very controlling and demanding, stripped me of all freedom, and loaded me with work. I was just a kid; I couldn’t do much about it. Two years ago, I got access to the fund my mom left me, so I moved out. I still work for him, but at least he doesn’t control my every move anymore."
"It doesn’t sound like you’re much of a family, to be honest." 
His smile was bittersweet. "Not that I wanted it to be this way. It’s… complicated."
Perhaps she was naive, but Marinette couldn’t imagine having a living father and wanting nothing to do with him. "Do you think you'd want to reconnect with him someday?"
Adrien shrugged. "Not sure anymore. He used to be a great dad when I was little. The three of us had so much fun together…" A smile briefly touched his lips as Adrien paused for a moment. "I always thought if I behaved and did everything he wanted, he’d snap out of whatever it is that made him so cold but… it never happened. With time, I just gave up on even trying." Turning her way, he reached for her hand, gently cradling it in his. "I’d rather spend my time and energy on someone who wants to get to know me as much as I want to get to know them. Like you, for example. Perhaps tomorrow? Helping you nurse your parents back to health?"
Her heart skipped a bit, and he hadn’t even done anything more than look at her and hold her hand. “Okay.”
He brought her hand to his lips again, enjoying the view of a glowing cat on her skin. "I’ll have to give you a Christmas gift later, though. Pretty sure I won’t be able to find anything at such late notice."
"Don't worry about it. I already got everything I ever wanted."
The chime of the clock thundered through the night air, announcing midnight. Adrien looked its way, murmuring something about turning back into a pumpkin. Marinette wasn’t sure why, but she reached forward, hesitantly laying her hand on his chest. The mark underneath his shirt glowed, its light reflecting in his eyes as he looked back at her with the gentlest of gazes. She couldn’t take her eyes away even if she wanted to because the man before her was a far cry from what she’d ever imagined him to be. She was a goner already, and she didn’t care. The feeling in her chest was just too pleasant. Warm. Fuzzy. Addicting. Something stronger and deeper than anything she’d ever experienced. Something much more beautiful and meaningful than a teenage crush. 
She couldn’t help herself. Marinette stood on her tiptoes and pulled Adrien down for a tender brush of her lips against his cheek.
He looked at her with wide-opened eyes and a deep blush spreading across his face. "I…um… I didn’t… expect that."
"Is that okay?"
He feverishly nodded. "Yes! More than okay. A lot more okay than all the okays in the world. May I… may I return the gesture?" 
"Please.”
He leaned down, aiming for her cheek. Somehow he missed, his lips landing on hers. Neither of them seemed to mind, treating each other to the sweetest kiss one could imagine. Pulling back slightly, Adrien rested his forehead against hers, his eyes locked on hers.
"A soulmate for Christmas. Best present ever."
If Marinette’s heart wasn’t in overdrive before, it sure was now. She couldn’t help but agree with his sentiment. "Merry Christmas, Adrien."
"Merry Christmas, my Lady."
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yayeetsonny · 4 years
Text
Keeping Secrets~USWNT x Baby Reader
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Prompt: Team finds out baby r has epilepsy.
Requested by: @khiaraaa-in-spacee​
TW: Depictions of seizures and mentions of them.
Y/N PRO//
My name is Y/N L/N and I have epilepsy. Having epilepsy is hard because a lot of people assume that there is just the one kind, where a person suddenly falls to the ground and experiences uncontrollable muscle movement. While that is a common form that it can take there are several other types. Like mine, I experience Typical absence seizures, this means that when I am experiencing one I stop whatever it was I was doing and it can look like I’m frozen or zoning out, my eyelids flutter quite a bit and my ams jerk slightly sometimes too. When these happen I don’t realize it until it’s over.  Most of the time I have several in a row so when everything is over I tend to be a little confused. 
I try not to let it define my life. I’m also a member of the United States Women’s National soccer team. I’m the youngest player on the squad at 15 and the team is over protective to say the least. They tend to overdue it by a lot when we’re on the field, for example if I go down injured at all they swarm me, asking if I’m okay a million times and calling the medical staff over for the tiniest injuries.. Off the field is much the same, they wake me up at the same time every morning because
“Having a routine is important.” 
Christen has told me this a thousand times, doesn’t mean I like being woken up at 5:30 am everyday, off days included. (That is unless I’m sick, then they make me hate naps) Once I’m up they make me get dressed and they carry me down to the dining hall where all the food is set up. When they first started doing this I protested being carried, citing that I was a big girl and I had two legs that worked perfectly fine but, after a look from Ali and Ashlyn I just let it happen. The veterans of the team also stormed the coaching staff’s office demanding that they find a way to make breakfast available for me (and them) when I wake up. They didn’t do this to be snobby or high maintenance they say its because
“If don’t eat right away in the morning, you get grouchy.” 
I don’t, but they think I do so I just let them have it and eat by 6 everyday. 
I haven’t told the team that I have epilepsy because I don’t want to scare them or freak them out. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it or anything it’s just that I don’t want them to feel like they have to worry about me even more than they already do.
“Hey Y/N! You in there?” Kelley asks appearing out of nowhere.
“What? Oh, sorry what’s up?”
“We just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the coffee shop around the corner with us.” 
She pointed to nearly half the team, including all the vets who were looking at me with concern written all over their faces.
“I think I’ll stay here, thanks anyways.”
“Are you sure? You love that place.” Kelley said frowning.
She was right, I had never turned down going there, especially with her. I wasn’t going to tell her this but I had forgot to take my seizure medicine so I need to stay back to take it before I forgot.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay, well, we’ll bring you something back then.” 
“Y/N?” Christen grabbed my hand before I could start walking to the elevators to go back to my room.
“Yeah Chris?”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I just wanna make sure. You know, me and the other veterans wouldn’t mind staying with you. We could hang here and watch movies or play board games or if you want we could all lay down and nap together, I know how much you love the “Cuddle puddle” we create.”
“I’m okay, really. Go have fun with the others. I think I’m just gonna go read my book in my room.”
“Okay, see you later.”
She gave me a hug before leaving, I watched as she explained what we talked about to the other vets and I saw several of them turn back to look at me. I shrugged at them before turning on my heel and heading back to my room. 
Once there, I took my medicine out of its hiding place, making sure to take the right dosage I then put it back and make sure it would stay hidden. I had to hide it because the girls always double check my bag before we leave any where we’ve stayed to make sure I have all my stuff. It’s nice sometimes but it also can get a little annoying.
There was a sudden knock at my door making me jump a little. Who could that be? The players who stayed behind were those that loved to nap and or they didn’t like coffee and almost all of them needed to have there alone time so getting a visitor is rare. After looking through the peephole I saw it was my roommate and best friend Morgan.
“Hey Moe! I thought you went with the others?” I said as I let her in.
“I did but I forgot my sunglasses. Have you seen them?”
“Um, I think you left them on the bathroom sink.”
“Oh that’s right! Okay, well got ‘em! See you later.”
“See you.” 
After she left I was able to go back to reading my book, It was pretty peaceful and I had almost made it half way through when I stopped. The book fell out of my hands and onto the floor with a loud thud. 
My eyelids fluttered and my fingers twitched and then just like that it was over. They only last 10-20 seconds, which isn’t long at all but for me it often feels like hours before I am aware of my surroundings again. Okay, there’s one. Am I going to have more?
My medicine has reduced them but it doesn’t stop them completely and some days it doesn’t work at all. I would go to a doctor to fix the prescription but since I can’t drive and the girls don’t know I just leave it be. 
“Oh boy, today is gonna be a long day.” I say to no one but myself before I slowly stand up and go to the sink to splash water on my face. 
We have practice in 45 minutes and I know the girls will want me to be ready a few minutes early. After I take my time changing into my gear and double checking that I do indeed look okay I make my way down to the lobby so that I can get on the bus before everyone else. I choose to sit all the way in the back and put my earbuds in so they know I don’t want to be bothered. But it seems Megan didn’t get the memo because she sits down right next to me and yanks the earbud out of my ear, putting it in her own.
“Hey kid, where you been? We brought back your favorite drink but you weren’t in your room.”
“I’ve been here.” I say shortly
“Okay?”
“Sorry I’m just tired.”
“You should’ve taken a nap before practice Y/N. What have we told you about that?”
“That I get grouchy without one, I know.”
“Do you?” 
“Yes! I’m sorry, okay? I forgot, I’ll take one when we get back.”
“I’ll be having a discussion with Carli, Chris, Alex, and the others about what we can do to help you remember.” She said leaving no room for argument.
Ugh, I hate when they have “Veteran meetings” about me. After they’ve decided something, they sit me down and all crowd around me so that if I get upset, they can comfort me. 98% of the time whatever they tell me isn’t a big deal, like a curfew. I can deal with that or even an early bedtime when I get sick or injured. But I draw the line on some things.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me Y/N.”
“Whatever.”
“Are we gonna have to talk about your attitude too?” 
“No. Sorry.”
“Mhm, what I thought.”
We finally arrived at the training facility we were practicing at this camp before our up coming international friendlies, and I grabbed my stuff and ran off the bus so I wouldn’t have to deal with Megan giving me the look anymore. 
“Y/N! Walk please!” I heard Alex shout from behind me but I ignored her.
Ali PRO//
“Okay is it just me or she acting weird?” I asked, concerned for our youngest teammate 
“Mmm, she’s just in a mood.” Megan said
“Okay, but she knows how we feel about her running anywhere that’s not the field, she’s the clumsiest kid we know. Plus, she always listens to me.” Alex said
She made a good point, she listened to all of us 9 times out of 10, some more than others but still. We all just stood there, letting the young players off first while we continued discussing our kid’s weird behavior.
“Hey guys?” 
“Yeah Ash?”
“What’s this?”
She held up a pill bottle that none of us had seen before. On it in big bold letters, was the name Y/N L/N and it was a medicine called Ethosuximide with the name (Zarontin) in parentheses. What the hell?
“What is that and why does she have it?” Christen asked angrily.
“I don’t know but I’m gonna find out right now.” Ashlyn said as she stomped off the bus.
“Ash, Ash hold on!” 
I stood in front of her trying to get her to stop walking.
“Why?”
“I know you, you aren’t going to let her explain and you’ll jump to conclusions.”
“What’s there to explain Ali? None of us have ever seen her take pills before and we all know she doesn’t have any medical conditions. We made Vlatko give us her file remember?”
“Yes but you should still let her explain.”
Ashyln was growing more upset and I was having a hard time keeping her at bay. As we got closer to the locker room the players who were already on the field or heading out attention was drawn to our argument. 
“Ash, cool it. Young ones in the vicinity.” Alex said referring to the “youngins” as Becky called them.
“I don’t care. I’m talking to her right now.”
There was nothing me, Alex or any of the other veterans could do to stop her from storming into the locker room.
“Y/N Y/M L/N!”
She came over to the front of the room quickly, startled and looking slightly terrified. She had yet to spot the pill bottle Ashyln was holding behind her back.
“Yeah Ash? What’s up?”
“ “What’s up?” she says. What’s up? That’s all you have to say?” Ashlyn had a bite to her tone that made me shiver. She can be mad intimidating when she wants to be. 
“Yes?”
“What’s up Y/N, is this.” 
As soon as she saw what she was holding all the color drained from Y/N’s face and I was afraid  she might faint. 
“Y/N… Sweetie, you’re okay. We’re just a little worried about you.” Chris said stepping forward and blocking her view of Ashlyn’s “Mean face” 
She tried to reach for Y/N but she turned away from her and made a move to leave.
“Uh you know, I really should get out on the field with the others. See you guys out there!”
Alex grabbed her around the waist and held her in her arms tightly so she couldn’t go anywhere. She tried to get her to let go but gave up when she realized Alex was too strong.
“Shhh, deep breaths. You’re okay. It’s just us. It’s okay.” Alex cooed softly in her ear.
I could tell that she was scared and was trying not to let her walls down.
“It-it’s not anything bad I swear!” 
“Really, then what is it?” 
“It’s just… can we just talk about it later? Please.”
“No, what is this and why do you have it?” 
“I- Please just let me go practice.”
“Y/N…”
“I have epilepsy, okay?! There, can I go practice please?”
She freed herself from Alex and ran out onto the field. We all chased after her and Christen tried to catch her but she was saved by the whistle.
“Ladies! Let’s go, stop messing around and get to work!” Dawn yelled, we knew it was directed at us.
After that we had no choice but to let it go and practice. We did the usual, stretching and warm up and then position group training, individual for some and scrimmages to end the session. Were half way through a scrimmage whenI noticed Y/N stop moving. It was like she was frozen, she wasn’t moving except for her arms that were jerking slightly and I could see her eyelids fluttering. She must be having a seizure. I thought. I rushed over to her stopping practice and tried everything to get her to snap out of it. Many of our teammates also tried to no avail and everyone was gathered around her unsure of what to do.
“Okay let’s give her some space.” Ashlyn said
I stayed close in case I had to prevent her from falling and hitting her head or needed to do anything else to help her.
She continued to seize, each one only lasted 10 seconds but she had 5 in a row and when those had stopped she only came to for a few seconds before she started to experience a second wave. In total she was unresponsive for almost a minute and half straight. Christen had put her arms on her shoulders, trying to let her know she was there.
“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re here. You’re okay.”
“What do we do?”
“We just have to let her know we’re here.”
“What’s going on? Is she okay?”
Several of the younger players looked scared and unsure of what to do, so Tobin and Megan took them away from where Y/N was and tried to reassure them she was gonna be okay.
Y/N PRO//
Everything finally started to come back into focus and at this point I had been moved to the ground and I was sitting in Chris’s lap as she held me. When I was fully out of the state I had been in I started to try to push her away, I was disoriented and confused and I didn’t remember what I was doing here.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. Y/N you’re safe, it’s okay.” Becky said as I settled down and the rest of the team begin trying to help me.
Chris held me the whole time, cooing in my ear and trying to keep me calm. Everything was super loud and my mind and body had gone into sensory overload trying to come back to practice. When I realized what happened and I was able, I pushed my way out of Christen’s arms, and ran back to the locker room. After that I ignored everyone and their questions about what was going on. I was the first back on the bus and had planned to continue ignoring everyone. The Vets of the team had other ideas however and put an end to it quickly.
“You feeling better little one?”
“Yeah Al, I am.”
“That was really scary.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about babe. But can I ask you something?” Ali said
“Sure, shoot.”
“Did you take your medicine today?”
“Yeah, I did it just doesn’t work well.” I said timidly
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the right dosage, it just doesn’t work well enough most of the time.”
“Why didn’t you get it adjusted?”
“I didn’t want anyone to find out about it.”
“That’s dangerous, you know that right?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I know you were scared. We’ll take you to get it adjusted as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.”
When we got back to the hotel I dropped off my stuff and decided to go for a walk. I needed to think about some things, and I knew the girls wanted to have a more in depth talk about what happened but I wasn’t ready. Eventually though I made my way back to the room and when I opened the door my roommate was there to greet me.
“Hey babe! You came back to me!’ Moe said dramatically as I entered our room.
“I’ll always come back to you, baby.” I said jokingly
“You better. My life is so boring without you!”
“I am the life of the party I’ve been told.”
“Ha ha, If anyone is the life of the party its Crystal. Girl can dance.”
“Definitely.”
“Have you talked to the others since we got back?”
“Uhh... no. I’m sorta avoiding them.” I said rubbing the back of my neck.
“You know that they’ll want to talk to you about it eventually right? I’m sure they’re worried about you.”
I was unsure of what to do because I didn’t really want to talk to them about it but I knew I had to. After another hour of avoiding it, I got up and made my way to Alex’s room. I knocked on the door timidly and waited for it to open.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I just was wondering if I could talk to you all?” I said as I saw almost all the older players in her room.
“Of course.”
We got to talking about what happened and I told them about the condition I had and when it first appeared and all the while Alex held me in her lap, cooing in my ear when I would start to get emotional and the others sat around us doing there best to let me know they were there.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Ashlyn asked 
“I was just afraid.”
“You don’t ever have to be afraid to tell us these things. I’m sorry you felt the need to hide it from us.” JJ said.
“I know today was scary for everyone. I think I should tell the whole team everything soon.”
“Are you sure? You shouldn’t feel like you have to, if you’re not ready that’s okay too.”
“I am, it’s okay. Will you guys be there?”
“Of course, always.”
“I love you guys.”
“We love you too.”
I knew that some of them were still a little hurt that I hadn’t told them sooner or they felt bad because they weren’t able to protect me but I knew we would be okay.
we agreed to be more honest with each other going forward and When it came time for me to tell the entire team the older players were there to support me and help me explain everything. They were all super supportive and assured me that they didn’t see me any differently.
After our heart to heart we decided to do some much needed team bonding.
Rose showed me a Tick tok of a bulldog trying to reach a cake that was just out of its reach and failing (or succeeding) spectacularly as it splattered in the floor.
“Wilma would totally do this!” I said laughing at the thought of Rose’s dog doing something similar.
“She totally would but I would give her a hand.” Rose giggled.
Kelley succeeded in putting a cup on her head with only her feet and I was in awe of her flexibility. I attempted to do the same but I failed miserably and pouted as everyone laughed at me.
“Good try kid. You’ll get it eventually.” Kel said.
We ended up playing cup pong (the clean version), Jenga, Sorry, Truth or Dare, and twister. We also tried playing hide and seek through out the hotel but we got in trouble with the managerial staff and almost got the whole team kicked out. Let’s just say that Vlatko was not too pleased… 
Sam, Rose, Sonnett, Lindsey and Mal choreographed a new dance and performed it for everyone. We all watched for over an hour as these knuckleheads tried to get it all down perfectly.
“Oh my god you guys, try again tomorrow when you actually know the dance.” Tobin said exasperated
“No, no we can do this. Right guys?” 
“Yes we can.”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Just give us a minute.”
“We got this.”
We watched on as they tried and failed to prove that they had it, but we all gave them an A+ for effort anyways.
“We would have gotten it, if you guys had just been patient enough.” Sam grumbled.
“We watched for over an hour, you know this team, they can’t sit still forever.” I giggled.
“I guess you’ve got a point.” Sam chuckled.
“Hey! We’re not that bad at sitting still.” Kelley protested.
“Uh, yeah Kel. We are.”
The whole team giggled at that and agreed that together asking us to sit still for long periods was useless.
After that we made pies and cupcakes and they were actually really good, but things took a turn when I decided to smash Ali’s face in a pie. She then chased me down the hall trying to get me back.
“Y/N, get back here!”
“Becky! Save me!”
“No way kid. Not trying to get punched.” She said before she closed her door.
“Traitor!” I yelled as I continued to run from a pissed off Ali Krieger. 
She eventually caught up to me and attacked me with kisses and tickles. I ended up covered head to toe in pie filling after she got hers all over me and then found another one and got revenge.
“Aw man, you got me.” I said as I giggled wildly as she tickled me some more.
“This whole team loves you so much. You know that right?” Alex would later tell me that night as we all snuggled on the two beds in the room I shared with Morgan. 
“Yeah, I know. I love you guys too.” 
They drive me nuts with the constant hovering and weird, silly rules they make me follow but I am so grateful to have them in my life and to have such an amazing group of friends who love and support me no matter what. Me and my 23 best friends are family for life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
//
THE END
If I got anything wrong, I’m so sorry. I did the best research that I could. Sorry for any mistakes.
-N
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