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reidgraygubler · 3 years

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lonely moonlight (spencer reid/reader)

Title: lonely moonlight

Request: no

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: angst (w/ maybe the tiniest bit of fluff); songfic

Content Warning: thoughts of wanting to cause harm, verbal arguments, mentions of divorce, intrusive thoughts, talks about abortion, mentions of bad mental health, ptsd (?), mentions of anxiety, mentions of needing to get help, someone walking out on their partner, pregnancy, mildly ooc spencer, post prison!reid, swearing (if any) (if i missed anything or something needs to be tagged, please message me and i’ll add it)

Word Count: 6,694

Summary: spencer left his partner and ends up regretting it.

A/N: howdy partners! This is for @badthingshappenbingo (more about that later), blocking off the rejected apology square on my card (pictured at the bottom). this is very loosely based on the song lonely moonlight by ryan ross! this was something i don’t usually write. it’s probably the most angsty fic i’ve ever written... and it’s a little more on the “darker” side. please pay attention to the content warnings, and again if i missed anything, please message me! thank you everyone for the love and support on my other works!! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The days following up to me leaving were bad. I wondered if that’s what it was like for Aaron and Haley. Although, there were different circumstances between the two of them. Same with David and all 3 of his wives. But, who am I to compare my problems with my superiors and their problems. Although, their wives left them… Not the other way around. Not like how I left you.

I should have stayed. We could have figured everything out. But I left. I think it’s because I got scared and didn’t know how to talk to you. And the reason behind why I got scared is a valid reason… I wanted to cause harm...

“God! This is so ridiculous!” you shouted from across the living room. I watched as you looked around the room, at all the piled up books and files. “I just do not understand you!” Your shout was louder than before, causing me to flinch slightly.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” I returned the shout, watching as it was your turn to flinch. “What do you want!?! Huh!? You know I can’t read your mind!” I stared at you. I wish I had noticed you were crying before I yelled. But that didn’t stop me…

“Spencer!” The way your voice shook didn’t bother me. But what did bother me was the way my hand started to ball up. It scared me. I took a step back, pressing my body against the wall that was closer than I originally thought.

I looked at you before I stormed out of the living room and out of the apartment all together. The sounds of your light footsteps followed behind me, and your faint voice calling out my name. I didn’t stop though, even as you begged me to stay. I couldn’t stay though… Not when I wanted to cause harm to someone I loved.

So, I left.

{***}{***}{***}

I looked down at the file in hand, reading over the case we just returned from. You didn’t come with. It wasn’t the first case you missed, and it wouldn’t be the last. Everyone ignored how awkward and uncomfortable it was in the room where we sat to talk about our cases.

“Hey, Reid,” Luke’s voice pulled my eyes from my case and to look up at him. He nodded towards the door to the bullpen, causing me to follow his gesture.

You were there, walking in like you knew what you wanted and that you were going to get it. I stood up and watched as you walked in more, scanning the room. Our eyes met and I dropped my shoulders as you walked towards Emily’s office. I tossed my file to my desk and practically ran up to you. I nearly tripped over my feet as I met you at the steps to the cat-walk.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Spencer,” you kept your voice low and your head held high. You didn’t even bother to look over at me.

“Please, just a minute. Two minutes. And then you never have to talk to me… again…” I tried to hold my ground but failed when my words broke. My throat and lips nearly betrayed me, closing as the last few syllables failed to come from me. “Let me explain myself,” I whispered, looking at you. If I spoke any louder, I’d fear my voice would crack, forcing me to crack and become a ball of emotions.

You stopped right in front of Emily’s office and looked at me. You looked right at me… I honestly can’t remember the last time I remembered you looking at me, and not right through me. It was well before our last fight, and even before we even started fighting.

“I don’t want to talk to you. You lost that chance when you left,” your tone held authority. I was left speechless as you stepped into the office, shutting the door in my face. Emily closed the blinds, leaving me to wonder what the conversation would be about.

I sulked back to my desk and lowered myself down to my seat. I kept my eyes on the closed-off room, waiting for you to leave. I didn’t want to miss what could be my last chance in ever talking to you again.

“How’d it go?” Luke asked as he appeared beside me and my desk. I sighed, glancing at him, taking my eyes off the door for a brief moment.

“She didn’t want to talk,” I whispered as Luke leaned against my desk. He was also looking at Emily’s office. I tried not to slouch, but it was so hard when it felt like a weight was on my shoulders, weighing me down.

“I don’t blame her,” Luke whispered, resting a hand on my shoulder. I swallowed roughly and closed my eyes.

“Thanks for that, Luke,” I muttered before pulling my shoulder away from his touch.

“Is she talking to Emily?” Penelope’s voice caused me to open my eyes again. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“You knew she was coming?” I looked right at Penelope. She was standing beside Luke and looking right at Emily’s office. Jennifer and Tara joined us, standing on the other side of my desk.

“You were the only person she didn’t tell, Spencer,” Jennifer looked at me for a moment. She looked at me like I was the last person she wanted to be around. I didn’t realize you two were so close. You told her everything, and I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass. “In fact, you’re the only person here she doesn’t want to see right now.” her tone was cool, and still. And, it made me feel like the bad guy. To be fair… I already felt like the bad guy.

“There’s no need to point that out, Jennifer,” I muttered, picking up the file and looking over it. I tried my hardest to keep focus on the file, but it was so hard when everyone was around me, looking at Emily’s office.

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Penelope whispered, wrapping her arm around Luke’s before resting her head on his shoulder. I swallowed roughly and looked over at the door before looking back at Jennifer. She was looking at me, her lips pierced together in a thin line. She was angry and there was nothing I could do to make her not angry.

“Could be anything,” Tara returned. I tried my hardest to keep from rolling my eyes. But I so obviously failed.

“I heard she was transferring,” Jennifer looked away and at Tara. That was it. You were officially leaving and transferring out of the BAU. All Jennifer had to say was that you were leaving and I knew it was true. Again, you tell her everything. So, that’s why you were here…

“That’s not true! She can’t leave!” Penelope protested. I let out an annoyed sigh. “She... She has to stay! She’s a part of the family!” she continued. I almost wanted to snap at her. But, I wasn’t angry at Penelope. No, I wasn’t even mad at you. I was mad at myself.

“She told me that she was. Who knows what Emily is going to tell her.” Jennifer shrugged. I could still feel Jennifer’s eyes on me. Like her eyes were lasers boring a hole into my head.

“I hope wherever she transfers to… She enjoys… I’ll miss her a lot,” Tara walked around to her desk, finally leaving me alone. Now I just need everyone else to go.

We sat in silence, staring at Emily’s door. I couldn’t help but feel my stomach bubble with too many emotions. I wanted to excuse myself to go to the bathroom, but the door to Emily’s office opened and you both stepped out. You guys shared a few more words before you looked over at the group watching for you.

“We were just… Talking,” Penelope smiled at you. I wanted to glare, but I knew I shouldn’t direct my anger at her. In fact, I couldn’t direct my anger anywhere. It was my own fault you were leaving.

You looked away from the group before walking away from Emily. You walked over to my desk and the group of people around it. Our friends. Our family.

“Just talking to Emily about a few things. That’s all,” you whispered. A lie. You didn’t want to tell everyone that you had put in for a transfer… No, what will happen is we’ll all show up to the office, and your desk will be empty, clean of your stuff. “I, uh, wish I could stay. But, I’m having coffee with someone and I don’t want to be late,” you pressed with a fake smile, trying to convince us all you were fine, even though we all knew you weren’t fine.

“You can’t leave,” Penelope looked at you with wide eyes. I could feel my heart rate picked up as I looked up at you. “We aren’t a family if you leave.” she continued, her voice pleading to you. You looked at Jennifer, clearly annoyed that she told everyone that you were leaving.

“Penelope,” Jennifer started, her tone warning.

“Now really isn’t the time, Pen… I seriously have to go. I can’t be late,” you looked at her and shook your head. The look on your face was incredibly apologetic and I knew you were sorry for everyone but me. “I’ll see you guys later,” you flashed everyone a smile before turning to leave. “Goodbye,” you mumbled as you looked at me one last time.

I sighed, dropping my shoulders, as I watched you leave the BAU for the last time. My eyes stayed frozen on the elevator doors as they closed, and I could feel a familiar wetness rolling down my cheeks.

{***}{***}{***}

I’ll have to be honest, this isn’t the first or last day I’ve spent sitting in my office at home, regret filling my head and my heart. The sunset made the room look golden and the rays shone off the various reflective surfaces.

I needed a change of scenery. My apartment, office, and BAU offices were starting to drag me down emotionally and mentally. All places that reminded me of you. So, I packed a book and other things and went to the nearby park… Which is where we’d gone on many picnics.

Why would I go to the park as the day turned into the night? You know, I’m not sure. I just needed something different and the park was the best thing I could think of. It was walking distance and I knew no one would be there to bother me.

That was until I saw you.

You were walking beside Jennifer on the far side of the park. Henry was running around, playing with a remote control car. Michael was sitting on your hip, his head resting on your shoulder as he slept. And something about that looked so natural to me. If I had known you were here with Jennifer and her kids, I wouldn’t have come. I swear.

I kept my head low as I walked towards one of the park benches on the far side of the park. With my book in hand, I continued to pretend that I didn’t see you and prayed that you didn’t see me. I don’t know why I didn’t just leave and go to a different park… It was the familiarity of this one that made me feel safe. Or, maybe it was the chance of you seeing me, and wanting to talk.

“Uncle Spencer?” A young boy’s voice asked as a fire engine red remote control car hit my feet. I closed my book and looked up to see Henry standing in front of me.

“Henry,” I smiled at him. I closed my book and placed it back in my bag. “What are you doing here?" I asked, pretending that I didn't see his mom, little brother, and you.

"Mom brought me," he smiled as he looked over towards Jennifer and you. "She wanted to talk to…" he trailed off the end of his sentence, not wanting to say your name. Jennifer and Will didn't tell him about what happened between us. But he was old enough to know. Considering any event we were both invited to, we avoided each other like the plague. I’m sure he thought it was weird that his aunt and uncle (his god-parents) stopped talking to each other and ignored each other every chance they had.

"That's nice," I felt my smile falter as I nodded, "Is this the race car your dad got you?” I asked, keeping my eyes on Henry. He smiled and nodded as he picked up the car.

“Yeah, mom said I could bring it with while they talked,” he looked down at the toy. I smiled at him and nodded. “It doesn’t go very fast though,” he looked back up at me and pouted.

“I’m sure you could make it go faster. With upgrades.” I smiled at him as he placed the car back to the ground. I watched as he drove the car and spun it out. I watched as he moved it back and forth on the sidewalk in front of us until he drove it away and towards people walking towards us. The small red car hit the feet of two people, causing both Henry and me to look up.

At first, I looked at Jennifer. I knew she wouldn’t be mad to see me. The tense expression her face held told me a different story. Her jaw was clenched and her lips were in a tight line. Her eyes were wide, but the emotion behind them frightened me a bit.

Then I looked over at you. Your hand was resting on Michael’s lower back as you held him. Your hair was in disarray that looked nice, but that’s how you usually wore it anyways. You had bags under your eyes, they were a deeper color than they were before, it was a clear sign that you had obviously lost sleep. And then you looked at me, fear and sadness in your eyes. The golden sunshine shone across your face, highlighting the important details. The details I loved. But, also details that you didn’t deserve to have, all because of the stress I caused.

I rushed to stand to my feet, my bag falling off the bench and spilling its contents all over the ground. I didn’t care though. I just wanted to talk to you.

“H-hey,” I looked at you, then back at Jennifer, then back at you. You kept your eyes on me as I fumbled over my words, trying to find the right thing to say. “I was just… I just wanted to come out to read and go for a walk,” I spoke, trying to find a pliable excuse to be here, at the public park. It wasn’t even an excuse. I was actually here to read. I don’t know why I need to explain why I was here.

“You’re allowed to be at the park, Spencer,” you whispered back. I stared at you before I realized something. You spoke to me. And it was the first time too since you transferred out from the BAU. We stared at each other, feeling an awkward tension grow between us.

Jennifer cleared her throat, causing me to rip my eyes from you and look at the ground. I silently cursed myself when I noticed all my belongings on the ground. I fell to my knees and pushed all my things back into my bag.

“We should get going. I know Will should be home soon and we can get a head start on dinner.” Jennifer spoke, causing me to snap my head to look at her. You were staring at where I was standing, but not at me.

“Yeah, yeah… That’s probably a good idea,” you looked at Jennifer and smiled, “Michael here is getting a little bit heavy,” you let out a very forced laugh. I stood back up before brushing the debris off my pants. You and Jennifer (even Henry) look at me with wide eyes.

“Can we talk?" I asked, nearly begging, as I looked at you. You refused to look at me again. And I could see a familiar wetness in your eyes. My shoulders instantly sagged as I looked at you and watched tears begin to form in your eyes. My heart sank to my stomach, which then sunk to the ground. “Please?” I whispered.

“Henry, are you ready to go?” You looked down at the boy, who was holding his red race car. I swallowed roughly, watching as you offered Henry your hand. You looked back at me before leading Henry away from Jennifer and I.

I reached out my hand to stop you but failed when Jennifer stepped in front of me. I looked back at her, ready to protest her stopping me.

“Jennifer, please,” I thought I shouted, but I’m sure it was hardly above a whisper. She dropped her hand from my arm and looked at the ground. I watched as you brought Henry and Michael back to the Jaraeu-LaMontange mini-van. Something about the way you carried Michael and helped Henry looked very natural. I couldn’t place my finger on why though.

“Leave her alone,” Jennifer whispered, pulling my attention back to her. I looked at her with wide eyes, my lips parted my mouth dry of words.

“I need to talk to her,” I whispered as I gathered my things again. I put the strap of my bag back over my body as I held a death-grip on my book. “I have to talk to her,” I turned to leave, but stopped when Jennifer grasped my hand again. “Jennifer,” I warned as I looked at her.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now. Okay? Give her time to figure stuff out,” she spoke. Her tone was low and had a certain demanding tone to it. “She went from having you in her life 24-7 to not having you at all. Give her time, Spence,”

“Okay, okay,” I whispered as I looked to the ground, “How much time?” I looked back up at Jennifer with tears threatening to fall.

“I don’t know. You left her without an explanation, Spence. And she needs time to heal… To fix herself… To rebuild herself… She ju-” She bit her lips together to stop herself from saying something. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong? She just what?” I dropped my shoulders as I looked at her. She looked at me and shook her head.

“Just leave her alone for right now. She’ll come to you when she’s ready,” Jennifer half-warned. I went to argue back but failed when she looked at me before leaving. I sat back down on the bench and buried my face into my hands. A frustrated sigh left my lips as I pushed my fingers through my hair.

I looked up and over at the mini-van. You and Jennifer were sitting in the front seat, talking to each other. And I noticed that you looked over at me once or twice. I let out another frustrated sigh before standing up and walking back home.

The thoughts and memories filled my head of when you were mine and I was yours and before I made a stupid decision. The sunshine was almost fully gone by the time I returned home and it was safe to say this was another day I lost filled with regret.

{***}{***}{***}

My body jerked, forcing me to wake up and sit in bed. The bedding and blankets pooled around my waist as I felt the bed beside me. There was a moment where I forgot you weren’t there and panic settled in my stomach. And then I remembered.

The darkness of the room started to feel claustrophobic and I panicked in the night. I nearly knocked everything off my nightstand as I went to turn the lamp.

You would always tell me not to be afraid of the dark (or anything for that matter). But, ever since I left and we no longer saw each other, I was afraid. I looked over at where you once slept and reached my hands out over the blankets to feel for you. Even though I knew you weren’t there, I wished you were.

I sighed deeply before kicking the blankets off me. My body was on auto-pilot, and I found myself in the kitchen. The tea kettle was on the stove, waiting for the water to warm up. The clock on the stove read 3:13 in the morning.

The moonlight illuminated the living room, the silver lighting hitting the coffee table, floor, and the various stacks of books. It sort of reflected my mood for the last few months. I wondered if you felt this way. Probably not.

I sat down on the couch and turned the lamp on. A random book was in my hand, and my nose was in it. I was not retaining any of the information as I read, or looked at the words.

A knock on the door honestly scared me. I wasn’t expecting anyone at my home at 3:30 in the morning. I looked down at my book before placing it on the couch beside me. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around my body, hiding my pajamas from whoever was at the door.

I don’t know who I was expecting when I looked through the peephole. Maybe it was a hitman coming to kill me. No, no that’s entirely too dark. Serial Killer? Maybe a burglar? No, burglars don’t knock. Could be Luke coming over, drunk because the woman he was sleeping with told him to leave. Or, maybe Penelope wanted to have a late-night Doctor Who marathon. Of all the people and things to be at my door…

I wasn’t expecting you.

You were standing on the other side, your eyes red and puffy from crying and your hair still in messy disarray (this time it was because of restless sleep and a clear emotional breakdown). I couldn’t tell if the makeup you had on during the day was washed away by your tears, or if you cleaned your face before the day ended. But I could see faint streaks on your cheeks. You wore a pair of flannel pants with a very big sweater.

It had been a few days (okay, weeks… Month and a half…) since I saw you at the park. My heart nearly stilled as I looked at you in the peephole. My body was paralyzed against the door. I watched as you lifted your hand and knocked again.

Except you didn’t get to knock, I had pulled the door open before you hit the door. You looked at me with shock on your face.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be awake,” you whispered, dropping your gaze from my face. I stared at you with wide eyes. You came, expecting me to be asleep… I wondered what you would have done if I was asleep, and if you would have told me you showed up to my house so early in the morning (or late at night. Depends on how you look at it.).

“No, no… It’s okay. I was awake anyway. I was working on some files,” I lied and waved my hand off like it was nothing. “No, wait… Sorry. I was already awake. I was reading The Narrative of John Smith. I wasn’t doing any extra work,” I looked back at you.

“Why… Why were you awake?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. I watched as you brought your hand to your lips and bit your thumbnail. That was one of the many nervous ticks you had, and I wanted nothing more than for you to not be nervous around me.

“Couldn’t sleep. So I thought I’d have some tea and read a little bit.” I looked over my shoulder towards my book and teacup. I quickly looked back at you, scared you wouldn’t actually be there when I looked back. I let out a sigh of relief when my eyes landed on you. “What are you doing here?” I watched as you looked at the door jamb.

“I, uh, I’m ready to, uh… I’m ready to talk,” you whispered as you looked at me. You folded your arms over your chest as you kept your eyes on me. This was the first time I noticed that you looked different. And not because you were awake at 3:30 in the morning in the midst of a breakdown. You looked different and I didn’t know how to explain it.

“You’re… You’re ready to talk?” I asked, my voice suddenly trembling as I looked at you. You nodded as you wiped your eyes with your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, uh…” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at the ground. “Figured it was time. Been a few months and wanted to talk,” you whispered at the ground. I stepped to the side and pulled the door open more.

“Do you want tea?” I asked, knowing tea calms you down. You looked back up at me and nodded lightly. You stepped into my apartment (which at some point was our apartment) and went right to the couch. I stood still for a moment before retreating to the kitchen.

I quickly poured the hot water into a new teacup. I grabbed a chamomile tea bag, the milk, and a bottle of honey before going back out to you.

“Chamomile… I brought you the milk and honey too. If you want something else and sugar… Or… Anything.” I whispered as I sat back down where I once was. I placed the items on the coffee table.

“Thank you,” you whispered, putting the tea bag into the cup.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to figure out why the hell you were here and if I was actually dreaming. You steeped the bag a little bit in the water, your eyes looking at the steam swirling off the water.

“I could lie and say yes, but I don’t think that’d be fair to you, Spencer,” you finally looked at me. Tears were sitting in your eyes, threatening to fall. I shifted in my seat, turning to look at you more. “Everything is not okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. I scanned the room, looking for a box of tissues. I got up and grabbed them for you. You took a few before blowing your nose.

“I’m-”

“Let me talk… Please, before you apologize,” you cut me off as you looked at me. I nodded and kept my eyes on you. You were still looking at me, the tears started rolling down your cheeks and you used your sleeve to dry them. You licked your lips as you looked for the right words to say. “JJ didn’t want me to come over,” you whispered, finally taking your eyes off me. You looked back at the steaming water. I could feel a familiar anger bubbling in my stomach, that was directed towards Jennifer. Of course, she didn’t want you to come over. “So I left when I knew she was asleep. I think the last time I did that was when I was 16,” you let out a dry laugh before you sipped your tea.

I stared at you, taking in the way you sat in a moment of silence. You were probably thinking of what you wanted to say. You were never good with words and articulating them. But, neither was I. “You know, like when you would sneak out of your house so whoever you were with didn’t wake up? God, I did that a lot as a teenager,” you laughed before sipping your tea. You shivered as the hot tea went down your throat. “Anyways, sorry… Basically, JJ doesn’t know I’m here,” you momentarily glanced at me before looking back at your tea.

“I won’t tell her you came,” I whispered as I turned to face you more. I watched as you leaned over and placed the teacup on the coffee table. You grabbed a random throw pillow off the couch and hugged it close to your body, as if it was some sort of protection.

“I don’t think you understand how hard life has been for me the last couple of months, Spencer,” you whispered, keeping your eyes anywhere but me. I furrowed my eyebrows, not because I was confused. But because I wasn’t sure what you were going to say. “And… and I’ve been trying to wrap my head around why you left, and what I did wrong to make you leave, and… I’m still working on getting better… But, I found something out and it broke me back down…” you whispered as you looked over at me. You were very cautious as you looked at me. Tears were fresh in your eyes again, and I knew you weren’t going to be able to control them. You sniffled and closed your eyes.

“What’s wrong,” I asked, keeping my voice low. I didn’t want it to go any louder in fear of my voice breaking the slightest bit. Tears started to blur my vision as I looked at you.

“Why’d you leave me in the first place?” You asked instead of answering me. Part of me wanted to point out that you answered my question with a question. But I didn’t bother.

“I got scared of losing you,” I whispered and looked down at the couch. That was partly true. I did, indeed, fear losing you. That wasn’t the whole truth… I was scared of losing you but I was more scared of hurting you.

I wrinkled my nose as tears started running down my cheeks. “And, I didn’t think about the consequences and outcome of me just… leaving,” I looked up at you. I left out the true reasoning for me leaving you. I could tell you knew I was leaving something out. But neither of us wanted to point it out.

“You did a lot more than lose me, Spencer,” you dryly laughed again as you spoke. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Yes, I know. And it was a mistake. You don’t understand how much I regret leaving. I’ve never wanted to take something back so badly in my entire li-”

“I’m pregnant, Spencer,” you cut me off and spoke. Your tone was filled with authority and you were so sure when you spoke. It totally caught me off guard, I wasn’t sure if I heard you correctly.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Wh-what? You’re what?” I stared at you, my lips parted and eyes wide. I swear my heart stopped as I tried to comprehend what you said. Or… it was going so fast and I just couldn't feel it.

“I’m pregnant. And, obviously, it’s yours. I’ve contemplated so many things. But, I think you would have killed me if you didn’t know,” you whispered as you looked away from me. I looked at you, trying to find the right words to say, but I couldn’t figure out what to say.

Then I thought back to the park. You were so dismissive, which is allowed considering the things I had done and said to you. Or the lack of things said to you. But then I remembered how natural Michael looked in your arms and how you were with Henry and how different you seemed. Jennifer was talking about you, about you just-ing something but she cut herself off… Jennifer knows.

“Does Jennifer-”

“Yes, she knows. She knew when we saw you at the park… And she knew when I talked to Emily about transferring,” you whispered, picking at the fabric of pajamas. Your voice was so soft, I felt bad for leaving you and I tried to not be mad at you for keeping something so big from me. “Emily knows too…” you answered my next question.

“You’ve known for that long?” I finally found words to say. You looked at me like you were a kid who was getting in trouble. But you weren’t getting in trouble. I was just… Mad at myself.

“I… I, uh, I didn’t know what to do. And, JJ was the only person I could talk to about it.” Your words were soft and quiet and you avoided me and my eyes like the plague.

I wanted to be mad… But I didn’t exactly have the right to be mad at you. After all the things I did to you? It wasn’t fair if I snapped at you. You knew this too. You knew me well enough to know that I wanted to be mad.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked after some time had passed. It felt like hours, but in reality, it was only a mere few minutes.

“Because… I wasn’t sure if I was going to stay in DC… I wasn’t sure if I even wanted it…”

“Clearly you do if you’re telling me,” I whispered and looked at you. You looked at me, ready to protest, but failed when you realized I was right. You knew I was right. Why else would you be telling me that you’re pregnant if you didn’t want it? You dropped your head before nodding.

“There’s more to you leaving me though, isn’t there? It wasn't just about losing me,” you asked, changing the subject back to me. You didn’t want to talk about your pregnancy that you’ve known about for several months. So, I swallowed roughly before nodding. “What was it? Were you cheating on me? Were you bored with me? Did I do something wrong? Was it something I did? Or was it something I didn't do?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong… It was all me…” I paused and looked up at you. You were looking at me, intently watching me. I took a deep breath as I lifted my hand to wipe your cheeks. “I wasn’t cheating on you, and I wasn’t bored with you,” I pulled my hand back to my lap and flexed my fingers. “I think it was just… Work was getting overwhelming… And,” my words trailed off for a moment, causing me to sigh.

“That’s not a good enough reason, Spencer, you know that,” you looked at me and shook your head. Your tone was short. There was no hiding it, you knew there was something else. I just didn’t have the heart to tell you the truth… But, I had to.

“The issue stopped being the actual problem… and it became me wanting to hurt you… And… And I never want to feel that way… Be-because I love you.” I looked up at you, watching the tears slip down your cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt the people that I love,” my voice was hardly above a whisper, “I guess… I-I need help, and I didn’t realize it till… till I had those thoughts,” I could feel my words shaking as I spoke. You looked at me with worry in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you whispered. I looked up at you and watched as you reached over, nervously placing your hand on my knee. I looked at you and let out a deep breath. Part of me wasn’t so sure we should be having this conversation at 4 in the morning. But here we are, having it. “After everything you’ve been through, with… With prison, and… and Cat, and Scratch…” your words trailed off as you spoke of the horrors I’ve lived through within the last few years, “Of course you need help… And… And we can get you the help that you need,” you whispered as you looked up at me. My eyes stayed glued to the hand you had resting on my knee. You were here… With me...

“It was just too much… And… I-I’m happy I didn’t do anything…. To…” I paused and took a shaky breath, but also to keep myself from saying that I almost did hurt you. Although, I did hurt you when I left. “I just didn’t know how to ask for help, even when I didn’t reali-”

"Spencer,” you started, your voice low and quiet. I could hear the raspiness in your voice. I’m sure it was the exhaustion of life for you. And it was my fault...

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” I whispered. I knew just saying sorry wasn’t going to be enough. Something else needed to be said, but I didn’t know what. “I’m so sorry,” I couldn’t help but repeat my apology even as I brought a hand to cover my eyes, and as I fell forward to let a sob go through my body.

“Hey, hey, Spence, it’s okay…” You whispered as you rested a hand on my back. I could feel you move closer to me as you embraced me better. I sat up and looked over at you. “I… I can’t accept your apology right… right now… But, I think we can work on it. We both need help… We can help and heal… Together…” you turned to face me more. Your gentle hands grasped both mine, holding them in the space between our bodies.

“It’s something we’ll both have to work on,” you looked at me before looking down at our hands. I stared at you, waiting to hear you continue. My heart was beating faster than it should and I was only a little worried about it stopping. I could feel my palms getting hot and sweaty on the leather couch.

“You… You…” I swallowed roughly and squeezed my eyes shut. Tears rolled down my cheeks, causing me to roughly push them away.

“Obviously I want you back in my life, Spencer. I’m sure you’re aware of how hard these few months have been for me,” you whispered, your voice so soft, I’m happy there were no other sounds. I’m sure I wouldn’t have heard you if it was 4 in the afternoon instead of 4 in the morning. “But, you have to understand, things are going to have to change in order for us to work. Especially now… that I’m pregnant,” you whispered and nodded.

“Of course! No, I know that! I understand that more than anything in the world.” I moved closer to you and nodded. My heart finally returned to it’s normal speed. “I’ll stay. And not because you’re pregnant. I knew I wanted you back right when I realized my mistake,” I whispered, looking down at our hands. Your hand was on top of mine, and your thumb rubbed the back of my hand. “I can’t apologize enough, because no matter how many times I apologize… Sorry won’t be enough.” I wrinkled my nose and looked back at you.

“I’m not going to give you anymore second chances, Spencer. Please, understand that… You have to get help… If not for me, or yourself, for our child…” You spoke with a sureness in your voice. You knew what you wanted, and you knew you were going to get it. Honestly, I was going to give it to you too.

“No, no, I do… I do understand… I’ll get all the help I can. I promise,” I kept my eyes on you. A worried feeling overtook my body, I was worried that all of this was just a dream and you’d be gone when I’d wake up. But you were here and it wasn’t just a dream.

At this point, I’d be willing to do anything to keep you safe, and our unborn child safe. I knew I didn’t want to mess this up. I didn’t want to miss any moments or chances of a family. Considering you were my family and I’ve known that for a long time. I didn’t want to lose any more time with you. These last few months without you were the roughest, and I didn’t want that anymore.

taglist: @thebluetint , @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto

(if you would like to be a part of the taglist just let me know :) )

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid x you #doctor spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst

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negasonicimagines · 3 years

Text

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

#negasonic teenage warhead #ellie phimister #x-men #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #x-men imagine #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #ellie phimister x reader #x-men x reader #wlw x reader #sapphic x reader #wlw imagine #sapphic imagine #lesbian x reader #lesbian imagine #songfic

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graceslavenderhaze · 3 years

Text

cherry lips {harvey kinkle}

synopsis: you’ve been pinning after harvey for several months little do you know he’s also been pining back.

warnings: swearing, underrage drinking, smoking

authors note: i present to you all the imagination of ross lynch in a sid vicious costume, you’re welcome

dedicated: @samsteel aka zoltar the mystical

“How long are you going to stare at him and never make a move?” Jamie asked as he sat down next to you at lunch. You turned your head at him, offended. “I was not staring.” You scoffed as you stole a chip from his lunch tray. He nodded, “You sure, because you have some drool on the corner of your mouth.” he said as he flicked the corner of your mouth.

“There’s no way a bear could defeat a shark. It’s not fucking happening.” Dylan declared as he sat down with Ryan. “Think about it, you put a bear on any playing field. He fucking wins!” Ryan exclaimed. They’d been arguing about this for the whole week. You groaned turning to Jamie, “Are we going to the halloween party tonight?”

“Well, we can. Just no heavy drinking for us we have an early morning practice.” Dylan said finally the previous conversation. “Wow greendale really pushing for that sober life is the good life.” Ryan said as he popped a grape in his mouth. “You were going to be sober this party anyways, it’s your turn to drive.” Jamie said throwing a carrot at him.

“Perfect chance for you to strut your stuff for the one and only mr. kinkle.” Ryan said wiggling his eyebrows to you. You shook your head. “What! C’mon it’s halloween perfect time to make a move and rumor round the locker room is he’s single and looking to mingle.” Dylan said encouraging you. “Now or never, besides out of all the guys at greendale he’s probably the best to date y’know besides the three in front of you.” Jamie said winking jokingly at you.

“Ew i think i just threw up in my mouth at the thought of dating any one of you.” You said causing your friends to burst into joking out rage. You laughed not noticing across the courtyard Harvey’s eyes on you.

Hours had passed, school was over for the week, and the weekend mischief was just beginning. You sat finishing up the final touches to your witch costume, you checked the groupchat to see when Ryan would be swinging around to pick you up. Putting your costume store cloak on to add the finishing touch to your costume you grabbed your phone and went to wait at the front window for Ryan’s car to pull up. You double checked the take one candy bowl that had been left out on your front stoop for the neighborhood kids, knowing that it was already late and no one would come back around you brought the bowl back into your kitchen and left it on the counter next the the note your parents left. They’d gone to some town halloween event and would be back later tonight.

Hearing a car horn and a fear yelps, knowing it was your friends you turned off the lights and locked your front door. “Well, well well, look what we have here!” Dylan yelled from the backseat. “Cast a spell on me, prevent my future hangover!” Jamie said from the passenger seat. “Hurry up! We are walking a fine line between fashionably late and late late.” Ryan said agitated, “you do look great though, y/n.”. You did a twirl then climbed into the backseat with Dylan.

After dancing in the crammed car to several songs and also pregaming with a water bottle filled with coke and rum shared between the four of you. As you rolled up to the party you noticed the cars and the packed front lawn. Halloween was the biggest holiday in greendale so the parties were notoriously big.

“All right party people let’s go.” Dylan said unlocking his door. Ryan immediately relocking it, causing everyone to groan. “If i am in charge of driving you all home, safety brief.” He announced. You snickered and Jamie took a slug of the coke and rum. “One, no vomiting in my car.” He craned his neck towards Jamie who had a record for doing that. Dylan looked over towards you, you stuck your tongue out.

“Two, i am not carrying anyone to their beds this time so... monitor your intake please for my sake and my backs.” He said turning towards Dylan. Dylan put his hands up in a mock surrender. “Aye aye captain!” He said.

“Three, we still have practice tomorrow, so it would be nice to be out of here by 1 latest.” He said as he killed the engine of the car. “Once again i am a perfect angel who never does anything wrong.” You said as you hopped out of the backseat with Dylan. Your friends laughed. “Asshats.” You said walking backwards knocking into someone.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You said turning around to apologize to who you knocked into. Harvey Kinkle dressed in a Sid Vicious costume. You felt yourself turn red. Slightly embarrassed? Slightly turned on from the sight in front of you? The pregaming in the car? Jury was out.

“All good, sick costume. Y/n right?” You swallowed thickly and nodded. “We have chemistry together.” Dylan and Jamie snickered. You turned around giving them a stern look. “mom’s mad.” Ryan whispered and you flicked them off behind your back.

“Thanks and yeah i sit two rows behind you.” You said turning you attention back to Harvey. His eyes stayed on you as if you were some sort of cosmic mystery he wanted to solve.

“I know.” He said cracking a smile and you smiled back. “Awesome. Anyways i guess i’ll see you around?” He nodded and then you parted ways. “Could’ve been worse.” Jamie said slinging his arm around your shoulder. “He knows where you sit.” Dylan said in a teasing tone. “Stop it. He doesn’t like me.” You said as you guys walked into the house.

“I sit next to you and he didn’t bring me up.” Ryan said as he dragged you to the kitchen to get drinks. “Maybe i’m just prettier than you.” You said hopping onto the counter to sit. He rolled his eyes. “You know you are and quit acting like that. If harvey can’t see how fucking awesome you are? He doesn’t deserve you.” He said handing you a spiked shirley temple. You took a sip. “Now loosen up, grow some and get in there.” He said pointing to the corner where Dylan and Jamie were with Harvey and Theo.

“Alright, i’m going in for the kill.” You said giving him a fist bump and weaving your way through the crowd of classmates you hardly knew to get to your friends. Once you made your ways over you noticed Theo in a similar costume to Harvey and you figured they went as the sex pistols.

As the night went on you somehow found yourself alone with Harvey on the roof playing this or that. Your friends had already left and Harvey offered to drive you home since he was already the designated driver for his group of friends.

“Okay, bungee jumping off into a pool of spiders or walk through fire while clowns are at the side.” Harvey side eyed you. “can the spiders be plastic from like walmart?” You pretended to ponder for a minute. “I don’t see why not.”

“I don’t fuck with clowns.” You said taking a sip of the water. “Your turn.” You said your attention from the overview to Harvey once again. “may i kiss you or do you want me to take you home?” Your eyes widened. “ can you repeat yourself?” Harvey swallows thickly, “did you not hear me?” You shook your head. “No i heard you i just want to hear you say it again.” You said smiling.

Harvey moved over closer to you. “may i kiss you?” he asked. You nodded, “You may.” He leaned in putting his arm around your shoulders. There were no words to explain what it felt like to kiss harvey, but every song you’ve ever heard felt about right. Once you both parted he smiled to himself, “what?” you asked.

“You taste like cherries.” He said with a love drunk smile on his face.

#harvey kinkle #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #caos imagine #chilling adventures of sabrina imagine #harvey kinkle imagine #grace writes

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missscarletta7 · 3 years

Text

The Broken Crown- Chapter 1

Hello! So this is my first Peaky Blinders Fanfiction. I own nothing, except for the few OCs I created.

This story is also on Wattpad and FF.net under the same title if you want to read it there as well--- however be warned it is not as edited as this post and I changed the name of one of the characters because I thought it was a better fit... lol!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

Enjoy!

OoOoOo

"He's a ghost, he's a god, He's a man, He's a guru,

You're one microscopic cog, In his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed by his red right hand"

~Red Right Hand~

1919

She had that dream again, the one where she had to decide which door she would open. Both doors were identical in every way. Yet, she just stands in the empty room lit as if by candles; frozen in place; The weight of the decision ultimately waking her out of-

No, that wouldn't do, a dark-haired girl thought as she scratched out the words she had just written down. In a small bedroom on the second floor of number Seventeen Watery Lane, sixteen-year-old Margaret Shelby sat on her bed, or rather the bed she shared with her older sister. Dressed in the long white nightgown that had once belonged to her mother and with a pen in hand, she scribbled down more words in her brown leather-bound journal resting on her lap. The journal was gifted to her by her Aunt Polly on her most previous birthday. Upon receiving it she couldn't wait to fill its pages. She liked writing, ever since she learned how to form her words into a cohesive sentence on paper. It had been an outlet, a distraction from the "shit-hole" that was Small Heath, Birmingham.

As a child, she had the fondest memories of taking the drawings her eldest brother Arthur would sketch and would accompany his rendering with an original story. She took pride in how much he would always be so impressed and relished when he called her “his little genius". As the years passed, she believed if she could write and publish a story that was good enough, then maybe one day she could provide for her family. Give them a way out of their current situation. Not that she knew much of how dire their situation really was. To their credit, her family tried their best to shield her, as well as her youngest brother Finn, from feeling the effects of living a life in the slums. She was lucky in that way, most of the girls her age had dropped out of school and had a child of their own already.

Her thoughts of prose were soon interrupted by familiar sounds causing the pit of her stomach to sink. Even after three months of him being back, she doubted she would ever get used to it. Opposite from her bed, through the thin wall with floral green wallpaper which had been peeling off for years, muffled cries could be heard. Maggie knew exactly who it was, her brother, Tommy.

She placed her journal onto the thin cotton sheets and traveled into the hallway. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of her older sibling. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and slowly opened the door.

"Tommy?" she whispered into his candlelit room. She could see he was awake. Lying flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Go back to bed, Mags," the second oldest Shelby ordered, but the girl hesitated.

"I thought I heard yelling," she sounded apologetic, before taking a whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I said back to your bloody bed," his harsh tone surprised her.

This time she did listen, gently she closed her brother's door and made her way back to the empty bedroom she once was in.

OoOoOo

The next day, Margaret exited the small school she attended that was located right on the edge of Small Heath with her best friend Cara Ryan by her side. The girls had played together for as long as their memories had served them. Cara was a stylish and talkative girl who stood at a height of five feet and six inches. Dazzling green eyes sparkled and her straight honey blonde hair fell upon her shoulders. Her family did better than most, the Ryan's own a dress shop that is very popular amongst the younger women, Ada, in fact, is a frequent customer of the establishment. Though the word 'customer' was a loose term, the Ryan's like most shop owners in the area were obliged to give anyone with relations to the Peaky Blinders whatever they wanted. Mrs. Ryan's and the two oldest sisters operated it, and in her spare time, Cara could often be found working in the backroom, sewing buttons and beads to fabrics. The family had a deal, in a year's time Cara would come to work for the shop full time, but until then Cara could continue her education.

"Can't believe Henrietta's having a baby," Maggie said aloud, as shorter and younger students ran past them excitedly.

"I can," Cara replied smugly. "That girl would open her legs up for any sod that gave her a second glance."

"I feel bad for her." She admitted thinking of the fifteen-year-old whose life was now forever changed.

Cara shook her head, "Don't it's her own bloody fault."

After rounding the corner, they both saw Ross Murray. A thin nineteen-year-old with dark hair standing at five feet and eleven inches, resting his back against the dull red brick wall, smoking a cigarette. Cara stopped them in their tracks and waved at the young man. "All right, Ross?!"

Maggie smiled at her friend, she liked Ross, he'd always looked out for her and Cara like they were his own sisters. They had all been in school together up until the moment Ross was kicked out for beating up another boy named Jonah Smith. In all likelihood Jonah may have had it coming. He never had the ability to let go. For example, just last year Maggie would have to constantly have to turn down his advances for over a month. Due to the reputation of her family, attention from boys was a rare occurrence. Which she didn't mind, she never really felt romantic feelings for anyone. However, Jonah took advantage of her brothers absence. One day he even cornered her when she went back to the classroom to grab the jumper she left behind. Thankfully Jonah eventually stopped, and never bothered her again.

Getting kicked out of school didn't seem to bother Ross though. Once he turned eighteen, he enlisted to help with the war effort. He completed basic training within the required three months, and according to the letters he would send her and Cara, he was held in high esteem with all of his commanding officers. Just as he was about to be shipped to France, an armistice was declared. He'd managed to find a job working at the BSA factory rather quickly, but when he came back into town Maggie could tell he had changed. He now had this mentality that made him seem as though he was ready for a battle, yet had no one to fight.

"Cara, Margaret," he acknowledged, stubbing out his cigarette on the bricks he had rested his back upon "Where are you two heading, aye?"

"Just going home," Maggie told him, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.

He came closer to them, "I'll walk with you. Birmingham hasn't been the safest place now that all these blokes with fucked up brains are back."

"Look at that Mags," Cara said happily, and he allowed her to take his arm. "The only gentleman in Small Heath"

Maggie smiled knowingly at the sight. Since Cara was ten years old, she had been smitten with the dark-haired boy. Cara would frequently turn down other offers in hopes that Ross would one day ask her to be his girl. They both hoped that it would happen soon, because in Cara's words "She wasn't getting any younger".

"Don't know what you two keep going to school for," He expressed to them, as they began to walk in the direction the girls needed to travel. "What more is there to learn?"

His comment made Maggie shrug, "It's something to do."

"Yeah, most girls our age who aren't in school are either whores or mothers." She agreed. "Or both."

They continued chatting about their school day as they walked closer into town. The canal that ran nearby as well as the different establishments were coming into view. "Mags, is that your brother?" Ross asked, pointing to a couple of boys.

Maggie turned her head to where her friend was pointing. He was right, her younger brother Finn, was running around in front of the pharmacy with Isaiah Jesus. He must have skipped school again. "Oi!" Maggie called out angrily, and Finn froze in place "What have you been up to all day, hm?"

"Please don't tell Tommy," the ten-year-old begged.

Maggie was about to tell him off, but she was caught off guard by the arrival of a person exiting Compton's, "Ada?"

"Oh, hello." The dark-haired beauty clutched the paper parcel tighter in her hands, clearly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her younger siblings. "Heading home then?"

Maggie nodded and Ada continued, "I'll join you." The older sister then turned to her brother "Right Finn?" The boy scowled, but nodded all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Maggie told her friends, still trying to process what her sister was up to.

Cara didn't seem to mind her best friends' announcement to depart. Turning to the hazel-eyed boy she asked, "Fancy accompanying me to the confectionery?"

He looked over to the Shelby family first, "Will you three be alright by yourself?"

Ada looked amused at his worry, "We'll be fine. I doubt anyone would mess with us." He accepted her answer with a nod and led Cara to the candy shop.

As the water rushed in the cut, Ada and Maggie walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Finn wasn't too far in front of them. He was running and jumping around like a madman. That boy always had so much energy, Maggie found herself thinking. No wonder he skipped school, the poor thing probably could not sit still.

"That Murray boy has aged well hasn't he," Ada commented, finally breaking the silence, "Have you two?"

"Ada!" The younger sister cried out in surprise.

"Just asking." She shrugged, "Jesus you're a prude"

"Everyone's a prude compared to you" she retorted, "What were you doing at the pharmacy?"

Ada didn't reply though, instead opting to purse her lips. They were almost home now; Maggie could even see Pol heading to the house, traveling towards them. She was about to wave at her aunt until she was distracted by Finn, who ran around in front of his sisters. Her heart clenched when she noticed a black metal object in his hand.

"Finn, where did you get that gun?" she questioned, yet the youngest Shelby only giggled in response.

"Oi! Quit messing around," Ada scolded, moving forward in an attempt to take the weapon away. "You shouldn't b-"

BANG! The sisters screamed and Aunt Polly, who had witnessed the whole event transpire, rushed over from down the street. Both the girls tried to catch their breath and a shocked Finn looked like he was trying to mentally process what had just happened.

"The hell were you thinking?!" Polly scolded, snatching the gun from his hand. "Where did you get this?!

"He nearly fucking killed me!" Ada screeched pointing to her brother.

"I-I found it on the sideboard of the shop." Finn spit out as they watched his face concave and he soon began weeping in fear. "I-I thought it was empty. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

His tears pulled on Maggie's heartstrings, but Polly wasn't having it. She pushed the sobbing boy towards Maggie ordering, "Take him home, and no more playing with guns. Next time you leave them be."

The young boy nodded and allowed his sister to lead him back home."I didn't know Mags, I swear" he cried out again.

"I know you. You can apologize to Ada once she's feeling more forgiving" she expressed, her arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

OoOoOo

Childhood had molded her into the person she had become. Now she understood that...

Maggie internally groaned and scratched out what she had just written. No, that was definitely not good enough. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle. Her eyes were taken off the page by Ada, who was getting ready for her date with some mystery man.

"What's so funny?" the younger sister grumbled.

"You," Ada smiled as she brushed her hair in front of the small vanity mirror, "And how seriously you take yourself."

Quickly she closed her journal, wanting to change the subject "So, what was the family meeting about?" Maggie asked, not genuinely curious.

"New copper’s coming to town," Ada replied unbothered, more interested in fastening her shoe buckle.

"When I went downstairs, I caught Finn trying to listen through the door. Told him off for eavesdropping," the younger sister snickered .

"Can you believe that little tosser?" Ada said, putting on her paste earring. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He could have killed me today!"

"It was an accident, Ada." She reasoned, opening her journal once more, "Pol already told him and John off, what more can you do?"

"I can still bitch," the older sister huffed, before looking at the book in her sisters' hands. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're writing about?" Ada asked pointedly, now completely dressed in a white fur coat that rested over her dress.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who you've been going out to see the last few months?" Maggie shot back jokingly.

Ada responded by pantomiming the locking of her lips, which only made the younger sister smile. "Cover for me?"

"As always," The girl assured Ada before she quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.

It was about an hour later when Maggie began to hear the familiar muffled cries. Feeling hopeless as she stared at the green papered wall.

OoOoOo

The following day was mostly uneventful for Margaret. She'd gone to school and heard all about Cara's "date" with Ross. According to Cara, he was a complete "gentleman", much to the blonde's disappointment, though she still clung onto hope.

Now she stood in the kitchen with her Aunt and sister making dinner, continuously kneading some dough until her skinny arms began to burn. Hopefully, this batch of bread would last long enough for her to enjoy. Last time she made bread her siblings had eaten it all, not saving any for her. Upon hearing the door slam, she and her aunt stopped to glance over to the door.

"Holy Shit!" The girl exclaimed, witnessing her eldest brother who was bloody and beaten, being assisted by John into a wooden chair.

"Finn, go find Tommy and tell him what happened," Polly commanded. Like a shot, Finn was running out of the room, but not before Pol hurriedly added, "And tell him we need a shit ton of more alcohol!"

Polly then immediately began to gather gauze and rods of wood to make a splint, "Margaret, start heating up water, then cut this cloth up in stripes." Nodding at the directive, the girl began to do just that.

"The fuck happened?" Ada interrogated, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Was told some of the men found him like this outside the cinema," John explained.

"Do you know who?" Maggie heard her sister continue as she put the kettle over the flame, but Arthur remained silent.

"I'd like to know as well," An aggravated Polly chimed in.

This time Arthur did speak. “That Belfast copper,” the mustached man spit out, "I'll discuss it more once Tom gets here."

They all fell into silence, the only noise coming from Maggie who pulled out a chair to sit next to her brother, and quietly began cutting the cloth Polly left for her on the table. "Do you think this is enough?" Maggie asked her aunt after she finished.

"Should be plenty, love," Pol told her, taking one of the strips to start mending his hand.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada told the third eldest sibling who was just watching the ladies scrabble around as they tended to Arthur.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked incredulously.

"I'm a trained nurse." The sister stated.

Though seeing as John wasn't budging Maggie rose from her seat and began to wipe the blood herself.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts my face," Arthur joked as Polly bandaged him up. "You're a nurse like Mags here is a writer."

His comment caused more annoyance than Maggie cared to admit. With her index finger, she pressed onto a forming bruise on his cheek with great pressure, instigating a string of curses to come out of the eldest man's mouth.

"Oops," Maggie said insincerely. This caused Arthur to look to his aunt, wondering if any reprimanding would be given to the girl, but Polly just gave her brother a 'like you weren't asking for it' look.

"I bloody am!" The older Shelby girl whined to John.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John corrected her.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking," she shot back.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur spoke gruffly.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck." She told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into the bowl.

"Let me see him." Tommy's voice was heard as he entered the kitchen. "Well, have this" Tommy passed the bottle of rum and Arthur took a swig. Grabbing a rag, he immediately got to work tending to his brother's face.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. 'National interest', he said. Something about a robbery." Arthur explained. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers," John said immediately, disgusted at the thought.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said -" He paused a moment before continuing, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote".

Everyone remained silent, and frankly, that was enough of an answer to the eldest. "Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communist," Arthur said exasperated, before heatedly asking Tommy. "What's wrong with you?"

Tommy continued to stare back at him, before asking his aunt, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemist," Polly answered, staring at Tom who stared right back.

OoOoOo

Being alone at night was something Maggie had gotten used to now. The cries next door, however, that was something entirely different. Sighing to herself, she decided to give it another go. Once again, she rose from her bed, and ventured into the hallway. This time though she brought her journal with her. Not long she stood in front of her brother's door, allowing herself to open it.

Again, in the candlelit room, she saw him lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, though she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. "Still awake?" she asked.

"Can't seem to fall asleep," Tommy mumbled calmly. She took his stillness as permission to enter.

"Do you remember when I was a little girl and you used to read me books to make me fall asleep?" she asked, moving closer to the bed, "I used to love those voices you'd do for all the different characters from the picture books."

He nodded and he couldn't help the ghost of a smile while thinking of the memory. Unlike his other siblings, Maggie was the only one who would beg him to read to her. It was something they bonded over.

"If you want," she continued, motioning her hand to hold the journal up. "I can read you my story." Tommy was silent as he looked at the journal for a moment, before Maggie added, "I just thought maybe I could try to help you sleep like you did for me."

"Only if you do voices" he stressed jokingly, then shifted his body to make room for her on the small mattress.

"Remember," she squished next to him leaning her back against his bed frame. "This is a work in progress."

"I won't judge you too harshly" he replied, watching her open the journal that lay on her lap.

"Long ago when she was young, she believed that what she saw in her dreams could be a vision of what was to come. It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of-"

"A what?" He interrupted.

"An amalgamation" she repeated. "Do you not know what an amalgamation means?"

"No, I do. Didn't think you did."

"Shut up. You're supposed to allow my words to lull you to sleep."

"Sorry, please continue"

"It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of all her childhood aspirations, fears, and perhaps a little too much whiskey. With this knowledge she found herself yearning for-"

By this point, Tommy had closed his eyes and was half-listening to the words his sister read from her journal. It wasn't half bad what she wrote. He reckoned by the time she was his age she'd actually make something of herself all with those stories in her head. Perhaps make a career out of it, possibly even get out of Small Heath. It was to be the start of a new decade, a new time, who knows what would happen? When he finally made it back from France, her face was the first face that caught his attention on the station platform. It shocked him. No more was the little girl he would read stories to, but in her place stood a smiling young woman. She had changed so much during the time he was gone.

Come to think of it, they'd all changed. Arthur was head of the family, in charge of the business, and had done a decent job of it. But that was before France, he was different now. He quickly noticed the change in his brother and how he couldn't think straight anymore. Arthur's personality became more explosive, as well as violent. John, well he had become more reckless, especially after a few drinks got into him, and since Martha's passing the drinking had only increased.

As for him, well he was the one who had changed the most. He used to be carefree, joke and laugh, but now he was more solemn and even more protective of his family. Constantly worrying about how Arthur couldn't handle the business anymore, how John couldn't be alone anymore, and him? Well, he couldn't stand to see his family scrape and scrounge in the slums of Small Heath in order to survive any longer. No, not anymore. New copper sniffing about or not. No matter what Polly said, Tommy saw an opportunity with these guns. He wasn't about to turn it down. He just had to play it smart. As Maggie continued her reading, Tommy could feel himself slowly begin to drift out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #shelbysister #alfie solomons #oc #peakyblinders #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly shelby #adashelby #gangster #1920

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rebelcap · 3 years

Text

We are not just friends —22

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she’s brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Series masterlist

Chris was sleeping when his phone began ringing on the nightstand, it was Sofia.

"Hey, Sof. Everything okay?" He asked, checking the time It was about 2 am.

"Hi, yeah—you were sleeping, were you?" She asked, feeling a tad sad about waking him up.

"Yeah, it's okay though, Don't worry about it." He said rubbing his eyes and turned around to lay on his side."What's up?"

"Oh, I just wanted to," She sighs over the phone. "Just, I'm sorry about yesterday—

"Sofi, it's okay—

"Let me, okay?" She interrupted him and went on. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made out with that guy-" She breathed in. "It was Ryan's home, I disrespected you in front of your friends, Scott. I acted like a damn mess. I shouldn't have come up to you at the party or your house, I'm so sorry Chris." She lamented over the phone and Chris was the one taking a deep breath.

"I think we both acted like fools last night, I said things that I shouldn't have said to you. I wanted to hurt you because I was hurt. God, I'm an asshole—" He groaned. "At Ryan's, at my house, that was just me trying to get a reaction out of you. I should be calling you to apologize."

Sofia chuckle and he heard her sniffle. "It's okay, are you mad at me?"

"No, there's no way that I'll be mad at you. Even if I was, it usually never lasts long." Chris smiles and she does too. "Are you mad at me?"

"Maybe a little," She quickly answered. "But I think I'm mostly jealous,"

"Jealous of who?" Chris asked, not catching what she meant.

"You know who," She whispered and Chris swore she could picture her shrugging and pouting, which made him smile a bit.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't purposefully trying to," He explained. "As I said, I was trying to get out a reaction."

She hummed about his response. "Well, you did. I wanted to slap the hair of your head."

Chris laughed, so did her. "That was hilarious,"

"Yeah, I get really funny when I'm drunk." Sofia rolled her eyes at her and stood up from the sofa. "Anyways, it's kinda late—"

"Yeah…" Chris agreed and bit his finger, he didn't particularly want her to hang up.

"Oh, uhm… Your mom called,"

"Did she?" Chris frowned sitting up on the bed, intrigued.

"Yeap, I'm teaching her and Scott to make Argentinian empanadas. On Friday…"

"That's nice, am I invited?," He smiled and Sofia laughed.

"It's your house, dude."

"Come on," He laughed again. "You want me there?"

Sofia kept quiet for a little while. "Of course I want you there."

—

"So, what happened?" Amanda asked as Sofia groaned beside her, they were walking around the block of Mandy's suburban house.

"I got drunk, we made out—God," Sofia said, feeling embarrassed. "we made each other jealous and then laughed about it last night on the phone."

"You had sex?"

"No, but we slept together and I was a bitch when I woke up."

"As usual, you never were a morning person." Amanda smiled as Sofia grabbed her arm and wrapped it around hers. "You can't keep going like this with him, Sof. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," She scratched her head and sighed deeply. "We stretched it too long, but I love him and I told him that."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, and I took it back—kinda,"

"You're such a bitch," Amanda pinches her on her arm, and Sofia squeaks.

"I never told anyone that I love them,"

"Not even Tiffany?"

"I thought that I loved her, but I know now that I never did. It was all manipulation and downright toxic shit around her narcissistic ass. God, if I was fucked up before Tiffany. She ruined relationships for me,"

"I know,"

"That's why I can't trust Chris because every time we broke up he's off with one of his exes. Tiffany did the same but with random girls not to the same extent as her." Sofia explained. "He goes off to LA, forget all about me here and suddenly when he's in Boston I'm all we ever wanted. I don't know, I—"

"Chris it's nothing like Tiffany, Sofia. Come on," Amanda told her. "And you guys broke up two times, one you broke up with him through text and you kept talking for a bit. You two got back together and he left you—

"He went back to Jenny both times, I didn't even have sex with anyone besides him since we started this."

"You were on a break."

"It doesn't matter and you sound like Ross Geller and he's the worst," Sofia said. "And he said he loves me, you don't go back with your ex if you love someone else." She almost whispered and looked at her friend. "Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

"I'm always on your side, that's why I'm telling you this. Chris isn't perfect, he made mistakes but he never mistreated you, he never lied either."

"I know that I know…" Sofia nodded a few times as she watched the sun on the clear sky, closing her eyes. "Why is it so complicated?"

—

"How come you don't know how to drive?" Scott asked Sofia and she laughed. They were at his mother's kitchen, chopping some vegetables and chatting, waiting for Lisa to come back from the supermarket.

"Never owned a car before, I didn't see the point of learning and Uber exists now," She laughed and shrugged. "Besides your brother was my personal chauffeur every time he's in town." Sofia sasses him and Scott let out the loudest laugh because it was true.

"And yet, he says that hates driving around,"

"Oh yes, but he loved speeding and scaring the shit out of me," She laughed now and sighed. "And he just laughs grabbing his left titty… Or mine." Scott was screaming when Lisa and Chris walked in carrying a lot of bags.

"What are you two laughing about?" Lisa asked, smiling as Scott and Sofia shared a look and laughed again.

"What did you tell him?," Chris smiled and pointed a finger at Sofia, making them laugh again "Or what did you tell her?" He asked pointing the same finger but now at Scott.

"Nothing Mom, Apparently your son doesn't hate driving around that much," Scott shrugged and Sofia laughed.

"I hate driving around, what are you talking about?" Chris smiled, already knowing where that was coming from.

"Yeah, not for her," Scott said and Chris laughed as he unpacked the grocery from the bags and put it on the counter.

"Of course no, I love her and she used to let me touch her boob—" Chris explained and Sofia choked and Scott let out a screen mixed with laughter.

"Christofer!," Lisa laughed as she threw a whole package of toilet paper at him and they all laughed.

"Ma!" He shouted and laughed.

Sofía couldn't help but think that she loves this, moments like this. She loves them, she loves them all.

—

"Isn't this your wildest fantasy?," Scott asked his brother, as they sneakily watched their mother and Sofia cooking, laughing and day drinking wine.

"Shut up," Chris nudged him off, he was trying to hear what they were talking about. "This is wrong, isn't it?"

"Ah, yes," Scott quickly said and shook his head. "Are you trying to win her back?"

"Yes, I love her. I just wanna be with her,"

"Then go, be with her—be her friend again, Sofia is half way there men. She loves you, she really does."

"You talked to her?" Chris asked.

"I'm telling you nothing, that's between us." Scott said and Chris gave him a stern look.

"Yeah, but she's my girl—what she said?, does she love me back?, does she want me back?," Chris quickly tried to pry information out of his younger brother. Scott as a true friend, kept his mouth shut.

"I won't tell you shit."

"If you don't tell me, when we have another joint interview imma tell you crap yourself in the car." Chris muttered and Scott gasped.

"You wouldn't!,"

"Oh, brother. You wait," Chris said, shaking his head. Fast forward, he did talk about it on national television.

"What are you two whispering about, we can hear your cackling from here!" Lisa shouted as she nudged Sofia, making her laugh.

The brothers walked through the kitchen door, Scott umbothered and Chris was pretending to be unbothered, he might be an actor but his mother saw right through him, he was anxious.

Sofía smiled at him and he returned the smile back, hands on his pockets, looking adorable.

"Can we help?," Chris asked, walking up to her side. Sofia was putting some empanadas on a tray and placing them on the oven.

"We are mostly done," She answered looking around, the kitchen was a mess. "You guys could help clean."

"Ah,yes. I have this thing—ma, I need to talk to you." Scott said pointing out away from the kitchen and Lisa quickly followed.

"I'll be right back, honey" Lisa said to Sofia wiping her hands on a towel. "You help her," She said to Chris.

"Of course." Chris said, quickly putting himself to gather all the dirty things and place them on the sink. "You okay?" He asked, she seemed quiet as she started to do the dishes.

"Yeah, yeah—it's just," She said and looked at him, Chris was concerned because of the last time that they were together in this very same house. They broke up. "I talk with Lisa about what happen last time I was here,"

"Yeah, I told her something about that." Chris said, thinking that he fucked up on telling his mother for a second.

"I know, it's alright." She said and looked down. "She got it, what I feel at that time." Sofia went quiet for a moment and looked at Chris. "I wish I had talked to her that time, you know? Maybe we wouldn't be in this position right now."

"You think That?," He asked, wiping his hands. Eyes focused on her, Sofia nodded a few times as she rinsed a few plates.

"I don't know, maybe—if we ever talked about all the shit we have to talk about." She laughed and Chris snorted.

"So let's talk about it,"

"Right here?," She asked sarcastically. "in your mother's kitchen. Sure,"

"It doesn't have to be here, but I wanna have that talk. I want to sort things out between us," Chris said looking at her, honestly in his voice and Sofia didn't know what to do.

"Chris… I, I don't know. It's been months, there is so much crap between us." Sofia said playing with the towel and looking down.

"I don't want you out of my life, Sofia." Chris said and she looked at him. "I would hate that, I'll regret it all my life."

"I don't want that, I would hate it too." She whispered and turned around to rest her back on the counter and let out a sigh. "I miss you. Not gonna lie about that."

"I miss you too, all the time." He whispered and got close enough to cup her face as she leaned in his touch, closing her eyes. Chris took a deep breath and Sofia wrapped her arms around her torso, holding him tight, burning her face in his chest.

Chris kissed the top of her head and hummed, only for her to hear. "I love you."

"I know," She whispered and looked up, pouting with her eyes glossy.

"sweetheart," Chris said, kissing her face as she smiled at the touch, a sweet moment interrupted by a timer ringing to take out the food of the oven.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x latina!#chris evans imagine #chris evans x you #chris evans x ofc

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 3 years

Text

All Fall Down. (R. Ross x Reader)

For: anon

Request: could you do a ryan or gerard x reader where the reader is sick? if not it’s totally cool, just wondering

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

——————

It was inevitable; you knew that. Your days were numbered, and regardless of how careful you were, no matter how many precautions you took, you knew that you would eventually fall. The stomach bug had been making the rounds on the Pretty. Odd. tour, and unless you were one of the four band members who were being kept away from everyone else, you were fair game.

“Ryan, don’t,” you croaked, using what little strength you had left to push yourself up into a sitting position on your bunk.

You were dazed and disorientated and had no idea what time it was. Looking out of the small window next to your bed was no help either; the grounds on which the tour bus stood was completely shrouded in darkness. It could’ve been the impending promise of nightfall, or it could have just been the dreary Maine weather.

It felt as if you had only just fallen asleep, yet it also felt like you’d been sleeping for months. The blankets had become your enemy, drawing you into a battle of constant pushing and pulling as your body temperature fluctuated between extremes.

Making the mistake of turning around to look if Ryan had entered the bus, your stomach churned and your head spun.

“Oh god, here it comes,” you choked out, hand flying to your mouth as you stood up and staggered to the tiny bathroom.

Hearing the commotion, Ryan hurried onto the bus, struggling to maintain a firm hold on the ginger ale and crackers in his hands.

“My love?” he called to you with concern in his voice, bursting into the bunk area just as you shut the bathroom door. “Too slow; I saw ya! I brought reinforcements.”

The scene inside the compact space was not at all pretty. You were sprawled on the floor, limbs splayed out as wide as the restraining walls would allow. The toilet bowl was directly next to your head; as unappealing as the position was, you were terribly afraid that if you were too far away from it, you would make a mess all over the floor once the contents of your stomach decided to make a premature reappearance.

“Baby, are you okay?”

“Just leave me here to die, Ryan.”

“Never gonna happen, (Y/N).”

At the risk of being yelled at – and catching the bug – Ryan tentatively pushed on the bathroom door, peeking through once it had opened a smidge so that he could see you. When his eyes landed on your limp figure, his boyfriend instincts took over and he burst in and dropped down to your side.

“Oh, my love, you look terrible. What can I do? How do I help?”

“You can go away.” You gave him a weak push – one that barely caused him to move. “Don’t get too close, else you’ll get it too.”

“Don’t care. You need me.”

Even though your head and your heart wanted to argue with him, your body betrayed you and instead of expelling words, it expelled what little contents you had left in your stomach.

Ryan rushed to pick up a washcloth that was hanging over the towel rack, and ran it underneath cold water before gently pressing it to your face. He had felt awful when other members of the crew had fallen victim to the bug and had helped where he could, but seeing you in such a state of agony broke his heart.

Management would have his head if they found out that he was exposing himself to a sicknes when they still had a week and a half of tour left, though he couldn’t care less at this point. You were his only concern.

“Ryan…”

“I’m here, my love. What do you need?”

“To get back to bed. But I’m too weak to lift myself.”

“Say no more-“ He instantly reached down to lift you up, but you lifted a shaky hand to stop him.

“No, get someone else. Someone who isn’tone of the band members.”

Hurt flashed across his soft features. “Why?”

“Because you can’t afford to catch this, and you’ve already exposed yourself too much,” you spoke hoarsely, looking up at him with droopy yet determined eyes, “I can’t kill Ryan Ross. The fans would riot.”

“(Y/N)-“

“Out, Ross,” you commanded, pointing at the door, “I’m serious.”

✧✧✧

��Come on, (Y/L/N). Woman up. It’s medicine, not poison.”

“Those are one and the same, to me.”

With a frustrated groan and a frown etched onto his forehead, Ryan reached over to try and force feed you the medicine. “Would you just- UGH!”

You swatted him away angrily, pushing yourself back to lean against the headboard of the hotel bed. “Leave me aloneeeeee,” you drawled, holding up a pillow to block him. “YOU’RE GONNA GET SICK!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

In one swift movement, he hit the pillow out of the way and straddled you, pressing his legs against your sides to prevent you from wriggling away.

Sighing defeatedly, you folded your arms over your chest to showcase your displeasure, but ultimately resigned yourself to opening your mouth.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, baby.” The guitarist’s hand was as steady as ever as he lifted the spoon full of liquid up for you to take in. He watched with an intense, unwavering gaze to ensure that you swallowed every single drop.

Your stomach fluttered at his endearing actions, though you didn’t dare to tell him that. The last thing you wanted to do was to encourage his behaviour. It was unresponsible for him to be exposing himself like this, and it irked you that he refused to acknowledge the fact.

Nevertheless, the medicine worked wonders on your frail state, and you settled into an restful slumber shortly after taking the dose. Smiling to himself, Ryan placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

✧✧✧

A couple days later and you had made a full recovery, stepping out of self-appointed quarantine for the first time in who knows how long. You were still apprehensive about re-entering the land of the healthy though, and made a concerted effort to avoid touching anything or anyone as you walked through the venue.

“Hey, look who it is!” Jon beamed at you as you entered the rehearsal area. He was at the far end of the room but despite the distance between you two, you held up one hand to warn him to keep back. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah – much better, thanks.” You looked around the room carefully. “Have you seen Ryan?”

“Dressing room, I think.”

You nodded. “Thanks, J.”

Before he could reply, you were out the door and on your way to find your boyfriend. You made sure to take the quickest route that allowed you to pass the least amount of people, and kept your hands in your pockets the entire time to avoid inadvertently reinfecting yourself.

Nearing the dressing room, you could hear movement from inside and it prompted you to barrel your way through the door.

“Ryan?”

“Stay back.”

“Why?”

“Because – Oh no, oh no…” he gasped, shoving his way past you and out of the door.

You stepped to the side quick enough for him to fly by, but followed immediately behind him despite his pleas for you not to. Suddenly, seeing Ryan falling prey to the bug erradicated any fear you had of catching it again, and your only concern from then on out was to help him.

Ryan tumbled into the bathroom across the hall, failing to lock the door in his ill state. You rapped your knuckles against the door tentatively.

“My love, I’m coming in, okay?”

“No… no… I’m fine.”

“You sound wonderful.”

A weak groan sounded from the other side of the door. “Go away, (Y/N). I don’t… need you… either.”

His words were a resounding reminder of how abrasive you’d been towards him whilst he was nursing you through your sickness, and you sighed heavily as you mentally cursed yourself for it.

“Ryan, I’m sorry. I was just trying to protect you from all this,” you apologised, pushing the door open a tiny crack, “I know that you were just trying to help, and I’m sorry I treated you so badly. But please, let mehelp you.”

The musician’s response came in the form of an agonising groan; he was too sick to argue any further at this point, so you opened the door and dropped down next to him. Your hand flew to his back to rub soothing circles there.

“Go…” he tried again, but couldn’t subdue his throwing up long enough to say more. His body slumped against the cool wall, eyes droopy as he stared up at you.

“Not a chance, Ross,” you shook your head. “You’re not getting rid of me. No way.”

“Okay… just… promise me one thing.”

“Mm?”

“Promise… that you’ll let me cough on the other guys. If I’m gonna die, I’m taking the rest of them down with me.”

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

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robinrunsfiction · 3 years

Text

Winter/Christmas Alphabet - V is for Villa

Pairing: Ryan Ross x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: General

Requested By: None

Word Count: ~400

Author’s Note: No one said the villa couldn’t be made of cookies...

"Ryan come look what I got!" You called walking in from the store with an arm load of shopping bags.

"It looks like you bought the whole store," Ryan smirked as he sauntered into the kitchen.

"Ha ha, no. Look at these! They're kits for decorating gingerbread houses! I got a bunch of other stuff too. Go clear off the table and I'll get all this ready."

Ryan laughed before coming over to place a kiss on the top of your head. "I love your holiday spirit."

You grinned back, before unloading the shopping bags with miniature candy canes, m&ms, sprinkles, nonpareils, and peanut butter cup trees. “Ok, we each got a kit, and it has frosting and some decorating supplies, but I got extras.”

“Got it,” Ryan said sitting down with his kit in front of him. “Ya know I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s been years for me, I hope I don’t screw up too bad,” you laughed.

As you started assembling yours and glanced over at Ryan and noticed his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated so intently at the project in front of him. You bit your lip to keep from giggling at how cute he was.

Once you both had the cookie homes standing solidly, you set to work decorating. “I’m gonna use these like shingles,” you said, picking up a handful of nonpareils.

“That’s a good idea,” Ryan nodded.

“So what are you doing?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Ok then,” you laughed, continuing your work, the only sound was the music Ryan had put on before you got home.

After a while, you were satisfied. You had icicles made from icing, the roof looked like it had shingles, there were trees in the yard, you had put a lot of detail into your house. “I think I’m done!” You announced turning it so Ryan could see.

“Looks good!”

“Can I see yours then?”

“I suppose, it’s not as good as yours,” he said, turning it around. He had used the icing to draw two people on the side of the house.

“Who is that?”

“Us,” he replied with a shy smile.

“Aww! I love it!” you said walking around the table to sit in his lap. “And it looks great.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, burying his face against your neck. “And thanks for doing all the festive stuff, it makes this time of year a lot more fun.”

“Of course!” You grinned. “Come on, let’s go make some more cookies.”

#ryan ross x reader

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 3 years

Text

Hosting Family - Ryan Ross x Reader (Advent Calendar 2020)

Prompt: H: Hosting family (How does family work? Are they invited to others, or stay with their s/o?) from @kairaiimagines Christmas Alphabeth prompt list

Warnings: insecure Ryan

Word count: 1 443

It was not the first time Ryan would meet your family. It was not even the first time Ryan would spend Christmas with your family. And yet he seemed more nervous than the previous times. For almost a week now he had been cleaning the house like a maniac. He had not only dusted, vacuumed and swiped every room; he had also cleaned the windows and even defrosted the freezer. He had spent hours cleaning the bathrooms, and almost an eternity to prepare the guestrooms your family would stay in.

Where you had planned on wiping down the biggest surfaces, vacuuming and putting on fresh sheets, Ryan seemed to have decided that the whole rooms needed to be cleaned to the very last square inch.

But that was not just the guestrooms, as you realised. Every book in the house had been dusted, every lamp wiped clean, and tasteful, slightly kitschy Christmas decoration was spread all over the house. On every sparkly clean window hung an ornament, a little star or a couple of snowflakes. On every windowsill stood a little table lantern unless there was not enough space between the flower pots. On the doors to the main rooms like the living room, kitchen and dining room, but also to the guestrooms and bathrooms, there were wreaths, and on the shelf next to the TV Ryan had arranged a Christmas Village out of incense burner houses, decorated with cotton wool to make it look like snow. You just hoped he would not try putting the little houses to work all at the same time because with that much smoke the fire alarm surely would set off.

On the living room table stood the Advent wreath made from pine tree twigs, decorated with the same colour of baubles as the Christmas tree in front of the big window into the garden. The dining table had a fresh-out-of-the-laundry tablecloth, one in deep, restive red with gold patterns, and in the middle stood an arrangement of candles with a small plate with Christmas cookies.

All in all you really did not want to complain about Ryan being so passionate about decorating the house this year. But you had a feeling it was slightly too much. And he was not enjoying himself in the way one should when decorating the house for Christmas.

You had been content with the few candles, the Advent wreath in the living room, and the little paper cut-outs of stars in the windows for the first two weeks. But since it had been decided your family would visit for Christmas, Ryan had started making it his personal goal to present a perfect home.

Now there were only a few hours left until your family would arrive, your mother having sent you a message just a few minutes ago, that they’d take about another six hours.

With crossed arms you stood in the dining room, and watched as Ryan came back into the house from the garden. Just now he had put up lanterns in the garden, and earlier he had arranged pine tree twigs with more lanterns outside the front door “to make it look welcoming”. Ryan pulled his shoes off before stepping into the perfectly clean kitchen, and carried the shoes past you into the hallway, ignoring your raised eyebrows at his actions.

“Ryan,” you asked quietly when you heard him take off his coat. A few moments later he stepped back into the dining room, almost flinching at the stance you had taken; arms crossed over your chest, eyebrows knitted together, and lips in a tight line. “I’ve let you do whatever you like this past week, but...” your expression softened, and you dropped your arms to your side, “what are you doing?”

For a moment he stared at you; deep brown eyes meeting your concerned ones.

“Preparing the house for Christmas,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I see that... but,” you looked around, “don’t misunderstand, I love it. It just feels like you’re doing something to distract yourself from something.” Stepping closer to him, you took his hands in yours, bringing them to your lips, and kissing them gently. “What’s bothering you?”

You almost immediately regretted asking the question, because it was obvious how you had broken down the wall Ryan had seemed to have built over the past week. Maybe for the best. But it broke your heart none the less to see the way his shoulders slumped down, and his lip quivered slightly.

Hastily you dragged him to the sofa where you sat him down, sitting closely next to him. Letting go of one of his hands, you brushed a thumb over his cheek, signalling him you were ready to listen, whenever he wanted to talk.

It took him a few minutes until he finally found the right words.

“It’s the first time your family is coming here,” he started. “They’re gonna see the house, the way we live, how my way of life has intertwined with yours and... it feels like it’s gonna be the visit where they understand that I intend to stay in your life until the day I die, if you’ll let me. And I do, I really do.”

You had to blink a couple of times in order not to cry on the spot. Of course Ryan and you had talked about it before. Neither of you felt the need to get married any time soon, even though Ryan had mentioned a couple of times that it would be something he’d like to do some day. But you had both made it clear that you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.

Ryan took a shaky breath before he continued.

“It feels like this visit is really important. Like... it’s a big. And I know your parents are protective over you,” well, he was not wrong “and I have messed up before. Not with you, but they have no guaranty I won’t do the same thing to you. I feel like I need to prove to them that I’m good enough for you. Not just as a lover, or a fleeting boyfriend, but as someone who can provide a home, someone who can take care of you, who can comfort you, who you can be safe with.”

He looked at you, his chocolate brown eyes swimming with tears.

“Ryan- you do realise I’m the one in the relationship with you, not my parents right? And I already know these things. Even if we’d live in a tiny, chaotic, un-Christmassy flat in the worst part of town, my parents wouldn’t dare to think of you any less than the man I chose to be by my side. Because they know I’m happy to be with you, that you make me happy. Every day.” Quickly you brushed away one of the tears that had started rolling down his chin at your sincere words. “And it doesn’t matter where we live, what our house of flat looks like, what we serve them for dinner, or how many boxes of cookies there are in the kitchen.” You were not so subtly referring to the masses of Christmas cookies Ryan had baked over the week between cleaning. “I love the way the house looks, I think it’s like straight out of a movie. But please know it’s not the standard my parents expect from you, nor do I, okay?”

Ryan nodded, blinking the tears away, before hugging you. You let him, relishing in the warm, familiar scent that filled the air around him.

“Would you like a cup of hot chocolate,” you asked when Ryan pulled away eventually.

“We could have some cookies, and relax on the sofa,” he suggested, making you nod eagerly. “Great. Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll bring everything to you.”

He kissed you on the forehead and got up, heading to the kitchen where you heard him rummaging around. You leant back into the cushions of the sofa and shook your head slightly to yourself. You knew he was insecure, about so many things, most of all about everything that might make you think of him any less than you did. You just felt a little sad he was so insecure about your own family. You wanted him to feel at home with them, like you did. But you knew that the best way to achieve that was to be patient with him, and to show him how much you loved him. You smiled slightly. It wasn’t like either of these things was hard, not when it was about Ryan.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @robinruns @starduststyx @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrostyslibrary @butterflycore @vamp-void @angelevansfalls

Picture Sources 1, 2

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

Star, January 11

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover Story: Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses

Page 1: Shia LaBeouf currently accused of relentless abuse and sexual battery by his ex FKA Twigs was snapped making out with Margaret Qualley after she arrived at LAX for a solid 10 minutes and holding up traffic -- the PDA session was the first time Shia and Margaret who is the daughter of Andie MacDowell were spotted out in public together but the two got well-acquainted a few months ago rolling around naked for a NSFW music video for a song by the actress’ sister Rainey Qualley a.k.a. Rainsford -- Shia went out of his way to charm Margaret as soon as they met and he wooed her with compliments and gifts and flowers and texts and spur-of-the-moment dates where he’d just show up at her house but her friends are concerned because Twigs’ lawsuit against Shia alleges multiple incidents of abuse including choking her in her sleep and knowingly giving her a sexually transmitted disease -- Shia said many of those allegations are not true and he is in a 12-step program and therapy for PTSD and alcoholism

Page 2: Contents, Prince William and Duchess Kate with kids Prince George and Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis for a Christmas card

Page 3: Candice Swanepoel in a bathing suit in Miami, Jennifer Garner stepped out to run errands in a mask and an expressive sweater in L.A., Ryan Reynolds cuddled up with a puppy to encourage his Instagram followers to donate to the SickKids Foundation

Page 4: Friends of Johnny Depp are keeping their distance as he gears up for another ugly defamation trial against ex-wife Amber Heard -- after losing the case against a U.K. newspaper that called him a wife beater and a scathing feature in The Hollywood Reporter that dubbed the star radioactive and his career all but dead, former pals want nothing to do with him -- the likes of Jude Law, Leonardo DiCaprio and Channing Tatum have been backpeddling on Johnny and it’s making him furious but to be fair Johnny had already alienated Leo and Channing by calling them Pumpkin Head and Potato Head and accusing them of having affairs with Amber -- Jude’s indifference cuts the deepest because for a time he and Johnny were brothers-in-arms as they filmed the second Fantastic Beasts movie and from Johnny’s perspective Jude hasn’t lifted a finger to defend him

Page 5: Mossimo Giannulli’s son is speaking out claiming the fashion designer is being treated harshly at California’s Federal Correctional Institution in Lompoc and Gianni Giannulli took to social media to complain that because of the pandemic his dad has been locked in solitary confinement for one full month and is only let out every three days for a few moments to shower and Gianni, Mossimo’s son from an earlier relationship, is irate that his father is being mistreated and he feels sorry for his dad and doesn’t want to see him languishing in prison however his half sisters Bela and Olivia Jade don’t seem too bothered by it

* At age 74 Susan Sarandon has had it with men -- she said she hasn’t really had a large dating career and in fact hasn’t had a guy in five years and it’s not that she can’t get a man, it’s just that the men she attracts are losers or sub-par in some way -- she is happy hanging out in her NYC apartment but still friends can’t help trying to fix her up because she’s attractive and in phenomenal shape but the problem is she scares guys away; she’s a force they can’t handle

* Two years after sharing her shock diagnosis with multiple sclerosis Selma Blair is struggling with pain and fear -- she was recently spotted getting emotional outside a West Hollywood cannabis shop and she has turned to medical marijuana to soothe symptoms of the chronic immune-system disorder which can include fatigue, spasticity, walking issues, numbness, weakness, vision issues and pain -- on some days she can’t even get out of bed but she’s trying to stay strong for her son Arthur and smile more for him but it’s been hard

Page 6: Julianne Hough appears to be sweetness and light but she’s a heartbreaker according to her ex Chuck Wicks who split from Julianne in 2009 -- in a revealing podcast Chuck blasted Julianne saying they were both loving life then out of nowhere you find out that they are not the person you thought they were and you break up -- Chuck admitted that he and Julianne agreed to say their split was amicable but it wasn’t fine and it wasn’t his fault

* After holing up at his Oklahoma spread Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani are having a blast decorating their 13,000-square-foot $13.2 million new home in the Encino area of California’s San Fernando Valley -- the home sits on 1.6 ultra-private acres behind double gates and extensive walls and features a pool and fabulous views -- inside the engaged pair give each other space: Gwen wants a dance studio and Blake gets his own man-cave with a big screen and high-tech surround sound

* Star Spots the Stars -- Nicky Hilton, Katharine McPhee Foster, Katherine Schwarzenegger Pratt making dairy-free and plant-based holiday appetizers, Jenna Dewan, Natalia Dyer

Page 8: Big Losers -- these stars shed pounds and got healthy in 2020 -- Jessica Simpson, Rebel Wilson, Kelly Osbourne

Page 10: Star Shots -- Gwen Stefani on the way to the recording studio in Santa Monica, Jerry O’Connell started his morning off with a fresh mimosa and a kiss from one of his dogs, Jodie Turner-Smith is the first Black actress to play Henry VIII’s ill-fated queen Anne Boleyn in a major U.K. TV series in Emley, UK

Page 11: Nick Cannon pitched in to help distribute 2000 free meal boxes to the Hollywood Food Coalition

Page 12: Demi Moore in a yellow bow for a selfie thanking readers for checking out her memoir, Paris Hilton kicked back for a Coach campaign reintroducing the early-2000s ubiquitous Swinger bag

Page 13: Derek Hough and his dogs Romie and Luna, Irina Shayk striking a pose

Page 14: Sofia Vergara during a photoshoot, Real Housewives of New York City alum Kristen Taekman is taking advantage of the California winter weather in a bikini in Malibu, Wells Adams takes out the trash in L.A.

Page 16: Carrie Underwood showed off her comfy at-home style, Vanessa Hudgens and her favorite condiment, Katherine Schwarzenegger celebrates her dog’s birthday

Page 17: Vanderpump Rules star Tom Sandoval picked up a holiday-themed centerpiece ahead of Christmas in L.A., Katie Holmes slung a guitar over her shoulder in NYC, Dame Joan Collins dropped by The Jonathan Ross Show in London

Page 18: Normal or Not? Hailey Baldwin shares a glimpse into her beauty routine -- normal, Tiger Woods’ son Charlie showed off his skills ahead of the PNC Championship -- normal

Page 19: Pete Wentz playing tennis in L.A. -- normal, Pete Davidson hurt himself a few times while making a scarf -- not normal

Page 20: Fashion -- stars charm in romantic ruffles -- Keke Palmer, Gwyneth Paltrow, Lupita Nyong’o

Page 21: Kirsten Dunst, Halsey

Page 24: Ariana Grande announced her engagement to realtor Dalton Gomez with some celebratory shots and she’s telling everyone how she never thought it was possible to be this happy -- the couple began dating in early 2020 when Dalton helped Ariana find a home in L.A. and things hit the fast track amid the health pandemic which saw the two enjoying quality time together in lockdown and realizing they were a perfect fit because they never fight and are totally in sync about how they look at life -- Ariana went straight into wedding mode already deciding on an intimate outdoor setting in mid-2021

Page 25: Jon Hamm stepped out in L.A. recently with girlfriend Anna Osceola and she was showing off a noticeably rounder midsection and there’s a good chance the two are pregnant because they’ve been actively trying to get into the family way -- though Jon admitted in 2016 that having children isn’t necessarily an imperative Jon may have changed his tune after his year-long relationship with Anna and hitting the big 5-0 in March has him reassessing his life and now having a child has become important to him

* Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher will be camping in style now that they’ve purchased a $140K Mercedes Benz Sprinter and they’re preparing to embark on an adventure -- with sleeping accommodations for four and a kitchen the spacious luxury vehicle is perfect for the couple and their two kids -- other stars can spend their vacations in five-star resorts but Mila and Ashton prefer to keep things alfresco and it’s a tradition they’ve kept all these years; this is their idea of a perfectly fun vacation

Page 26: Cover Story -- Hollywood’s Best and Worst Bosses -- who’s great to work for and who makes employees’ lives a misery -- Jennifer Hudson -- best

Page 27: Jennifer Lopez -- worst, Rihanna -- best, Kenny Chesney -- best, Mariah Carey -- worst, Gwyneth Paltrow -- worst

Page 28: Keanu Reeves -- best, Sandra Bullock -- best, Emma Watson -- worst

Page 29: George Clooney -- best, Ellen DeGeneres -- worst, Guess the Bad Boss

Page 30: Tom Cruise and Hayley Atwell: Man on a Mission -- amid all the tension on the set of Mission: Impossible 7 Tom has been pursuing his costar Hayley to be his next girlfriend and it seems to be working -- Tom has become very active with the U.K. Scientology Branch and is very taken with English women like Hayley and he’d like to make the U.K. his home base -- handcuffed to each other for several scenes in M:I7 Hayley and Tom were also spotted holding hands when the cameras weren’t rolling

Page 32: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s very L.A. Christmas -- the prince spends the holidays 5000 miles away from the royal family but Meghan’s mom Doria Ragland was on hand for the festivities -- the couple were intending to call Queen Elizabeth on Christmas morning otherwise they were happy to celebrate a low-key holiday

Page 38: Entertainment

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Sophie Turner and Joe Jonas suited up to hit the slopes stopping by a local store to pick up goodies before changing into warmer gear in Mammoth Lakes in California -- the couple are familiar faces in the ski town and looking forward they will be able to plan even more snowy getaways now that they’ve listed their NYC apartment for $5.9 million and moved full-time to Encino

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roachmattea · 4 years

Text

dawn jolly snippet!!

(Holly’s pov)

putting a cut because it’s mildly long and i don’t want to clutter up anyone’s dash!!!

With my back pressed against the brick wall in the dark alleyway and dark-wolf (Alisha’s wolves) bites on my shoulder, side, and legs, my only thought is, I kinda want a frozen lemonade right now.

I grimace. I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets-looking for some kind of healing juice or something--and find a small white card. It’s stained with blood (mine), but I can still read the address, and the message scrawled to the side: 2 hour date truce! -j.p.

I run through a map of the city in my mind. The closest entrance to my kingdom is 10 blocks away. The address is only one.

Well, I think. what do I have to lose?

I make my way to J.P Ross’s house, or evil headquarters, or whatever. Anything is better than a dark alleyway splattered with wolf-and-dawn-queen blood.

When I find the small house tucked into an unassuming suburban neighbourhood, I'm a little surprised. For a second I wonder: What if he wrote down the wrong address, and I show up, covered in blood, and a hand aglow so I can see (the streetlights are broken), on the doorstep of a random middle class family?

I shake my head. This is J.P Ross, criminal mastermind. He knows his own address.

I knock twice with a glowing fist.

The door opens, and he stands in the doorway, brown hair mussed, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, holding a glass of wine. His eyes widen when he sees me, bloody and shivering, on his doorstep.

He seems at a loss for words, but puts his wine glass down, and touches the bite on my shoulder. “...Holly Dawn?”

I can barely stand. I need to make him understand, to make him not kill me on the spot. I hold out the blood-stained white truce card. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And then I collapse into the arms of my worst enemy.

When I wake, it’s by a fire, with a quilt around me, and a dull pain in my head. “...J.P?”

He is sitting beside me on a couch, dabbing at the wound on my shoulder. “Hello, Your Highness.” His smirk reminds me of Ryan’s when he teases Miranda.

I shake my head. It’s a mistake. Fuzzy spots cloud my vision. I turn to J.P.

“What did you give me? Some sort of sedative drug?”

“Nope. It’s just the Livis’s bites. They weaken Xonarians, especially Tallion’s. It’s a wonder you made it all the way here without passing out. How far away were you? Why didn’t you call your friends or something?”

I try to reach into my pocket, realizing I don't have my jacket on anymore. J.P seems to notice what I’m looking for, and holds up my jacket.

“Check the pockets,” I say.

He reaches into the left pocket, and pulls out my phone. The screen is shattered, and there’s a bullet hole clean through the middle (the MTT had killed a few of the wolves; I'd gotten caught in the crossfire.) He mouths, Oh.

I roll my eyes, and mouth back Yeah.

He smirks again. I have an uncontrollable urge to smack him, and I feel like I understand Miranda a little better now. He looks too annoying, smirking like that. And too cute.

What am I talking about?

J.P puts my broken phone on the coffee table. “You can have some screen time if you want,”

I really am about to smack him now, but a loud whistling noise stops me.

“J.P!” a voice yells from upstairs. J.P and I both tense. It’s Silentina, J.P’s niece. “That’s the kettle! Can you make me some lemon tea?”

“Uh, yeah! Just a second!” He turns to me, and his face is panicked.

“Can you stand?” he whispers. “No!” I whisper back.

“J.P?” Silentina calls. “Everything okay?”

“Fine!”

Without warning, he picks me up bridal-style, and when I squeak - out of pain and surprise - he presses a finger to my lips.

“She can’t know you’re here,” he murmured. I nodded, eyes wide. “Good.”

He carries me to a bland bedroom and places me gently on the bed. “Not a sound,” He reminds me.

I nod as he closes the door and heads back to make Silentina her tea.

I sit up on the bed and wince. My back is sore from sitting for so long. I want to turn some lights on, but that would alert Silentina of my presence. So I settled for curling my hands into a cup, and letting a small glimmer of gold bounce around in my hand.

J.P didn’t kill me when I was unconscious in his home. I, the hero, his enemy, had come to him, and basically begged him to help me. And he did.

What a strange villain.

Maybe he’s not your villain, a little voice whispers in my mind. I tell it to shut up. The voice sounds a lot like Miranda.

“You’re going out?” That’s J.P’s voice from the kitchen. I squeeze my hand, and listen.

“Yup.” That’s Silentina. “Going to be a teenager for a bit. Maybe see a movie. You don’t mind if I take a break from building, do you?” Building what?

“No, not at all. Have fun.”

“Mm, now I'm going to try as hard as I can not to.”

I can practically hear J.P rolling his eyes. “Okay, great to know. Bye!”

“Bye!”

I hear footsteps, and then the doorknob clicks, and J.P enters the room he put me in.

“Light,” he commands, and for a second i think he’s talking to me, and it’s a nickname or something, but no, he’s talking to the room.

Beautiful, golden light floods the gloomy room, and hundreds of systems come to life; projections, holograms, you name it.

I push my hand through a hologram of the Hex logo. It dawns (ha ha) on me.

“This is your room.”

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s...kinda weird.”

“Why?”

“Um...I’m your greatest enemy-”

He cuts me off. “Actually, i think my greatest enemy is the cashier at Tim Hortons who gave me a raspberry frozen lemonade instead of the original.”

“What’s Tim Hortons?”

He stares at me incredulously. “You know all those frozen lemonades I bring you every time we fight?”

He mentioned our...rivalry so casually. I find it hard to speak. “Yeah.”

“Those are from Tim Hortons.”

The answer doesn’t satisfy me, but I don't push.

He sits on his bed next to me. He smells like lemons.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

I’m not sure I heard him correctly. “You...and me...watching a movie? In your house?”

He shrugs. “With your wounds, you won’t be able to move on your own until tomorrow.”

I sit up suddenly, and regret it when a sharp stab of pain brings tears to my eyes. “Tomorrow?”

“Mmhm.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

I slump backwards. J.P presses a button, and a TV rises out of a table. “What do you wanna watch?”

J.P and I are about 15 minutes into (insert disney movie here), when I decide to lean my head against his shoulder and wrap my outside arm around his torso. He stiffens as I touch him, but relaxes soon after.

“Holly,” J.P asked hesitantly. “Do you think that we...that our people...could ever live like this?” he motions to me and him, curled beside each other, watching a movie, bathed in a soft golden glow.

I tilt my head to look into his eyes. “Like...in peace?” I ask.

He nods.

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

He nods again, as if he expected that answer. We lie in silence for the rest of the movie, occasionally debating certain plot points, and screaming “Movie logic!” at the screen whenever something cliche happened (i.e: characters running (making an escape, usually), only to realize that the ground ends in a cliff, and the characters almost slip and fall, but don’t, and a few rocks tumble down the cliff).

When the movie ends, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with J.P and talk about whether it was realistic when (movie plot point insert).

But I can’t.

And he knows it.

He leaves me to sleep in his room, and turns out the lights before I can even say goodnight.

I blink in the darkness. J.P’s words are stuck in my head. My stubborn brain repeats them over, and over, even (and especially) when I scream at myself to stop.

Could we ever live in peace?

I had answered him truthfully, I think. I don’t know.

But my mind seemed to know what I wanted. I had always been an active daydreamer, after all. My dad said it was one of my best qualities.

It is your greatest strength, Holly. To see things that other people don’t. I can see his face, as he tucks my grown-out bangs out of my face. The memory was from years ago. I could smell the sea in his hair and on his skin, and heard his laugh when he picked me up and spun me around. Possibilities. Not everyone can find the dove in a sea of ravens. Hope and peace, in a world of death and destruction. You can. I know you can, my little sunrise.

I let myself imagine a perfect world. Where the Hex and Dawn work together, in peace. J.P and I would lead them, and we could go back home. To Xonar.

I fall asleep to dreams of doves and ravens.

tagging the tflc gang hope i’m not bothering you oop

@enbies-and-felonies @that-aro-asshat @clearlykeefitz @duchessmb @book-limerence @silver-snow @pencil-is-my-sword @alienlamp @cozy-the-overlord @ademonwithinternet @linhamon-roll

#i had to put all of the italics in after because they didn't transfer from docs #so there are probably some mistakes #xonar-verse #xonar-verse dawn #jollyyyy #holly x j.p #animal bite tw #tw animal bites

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splendidshinobi · 3 years

Text

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 26-30

been awhile since i’ve watched but.... another day, another emotional rollercoaster

episode 26: her reason

who’s her and what’s her reason

bother him ALLLLL you want maria ross...bother him all day long

he deserves it

INVOICE HAHAHAHAHA

dont yell at maria fuck off!!!!

GIRLY WHAT IS IZUMI DOING!!!!!!!!

i screamed i did

i love sig and izumi sm!!!!!!

omg ed and al’s faces

PANINYAAAAAAA

why does she have an automail arm whAT

i feel almost insulted for paninya’s dope weapon legs

oh wait ive seen this arm wrestling scene before lmao

go paninya goooo

i do not tolerate this mr dominic slander

OH NO DO NOT INSULT QUEEN WINRY’S WORK

sucks to suck!!!!

i do think winry may have just fallen in love

ed is such a simp though

JUMBO????? his name iS JUMBO??????

al’s mousy little what?

yikes yeah you know what winry id be pissed too

she felt so good about her work!!!

crush over

jk theyre soulmates

wow roy ur so smart

damn oh ok they kept paninya’s legs too

so she only has 1 biological limb wow

paninya is definitely a lesbian

we’ve all known that though i mean-----the camo pants

i saw paninya wearing army pants and flip flops, so i bought army pants and flip flops

oh my god winry you DEVIOUS BASTARD

i can see why people ship paninya and winry but im sorry im an edwin simp

young pinako is hot i get it dominic

OH MY GOD DEVIOUS

WINRY LMAO

GUN LEGS!

kill him?? pANINYA think about that before you shoot someone!!!

AWWWWWW ED!!!! “best automail in the world!!!!” IM CRYING

“hello sir” alphonse you sweet boy

sheska u good???

OPE HEY CURTISES

ed why are you sad

omg winry dont cry!!!!

hahahaha sig

THE BOYS’ FACES LMAO

episode 27: teacher

izumi time lets gooooooooooooo

the ominous music lolololol

THE WINDOW

WHERE IS ALPHONSE

RIGHT THERE

ED’S FUCKING FACE HAHAHAHA

grumman!!!!!

STEW TONIGHT FUCK YEAH

xerxes drop

edward you are being so foreboding

izumi queen of my life lets go girl!!!

umbrella king sig curtis!!!

ed you dumbass!!!!!

angry face boys

mom dad and the kids on the train!!!! makes me cry

awww win’s gonna miss the dudes

omg havoc plzzzz

why is he calling riza like she doesnt already know shes going too

do not leave my boy falman behind!!!

oh good ok

mason my dude!!!

“yes maam”

this is UNCOMFORTABLE

guys i simp for sig tbh

omg al scary boy

uh oh she SAWWWWWWW you!!!

aww i forgot about the dead cat goddamnit

not THE KITTY

ok but those baby kittens need some MELK

its all over for you two watch out

cant hide JACK SHIT from mama bear

yikes

she gonna kick your ass oof

hugs oh thats nice

episode 28: all is one, one is all

island timeeee

wait theyre on island time PART 2???? ok

the way sig’s HAND---- anyway

ok so creepy naked child??

im suspicious

clearly the boys didnt read my hero academia

or the three musketeers

al really got YEETED

yote?

oh the kid has clothes on. leaf clothes

i know dublith is in the “south” but is it really a tropical locale?

aww the bunny

“kill it”

owie hope you dont get rabies edward

the ost man so good for both series

al really said J’ACCUSE

they didnt know the masked man was mason the first time around? aight

im really having trouble typing and eating dumplings at the same time

might pause for a dumpling break

i made these in the microwave theyre pretty good

def not the best ive had but they were, ya know, microwaved

anyways sad al hours

YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS YOUR BROTHER????

it’s the circle of life simba

getting REAL philosophical rn

“dont call me small”

now we’re getting REAL scientific

im just imagining these idiots on shrooms rn

mannnnnnnnnnnn

WAIT IMAGINE LING YAO ON SHROOMS

wow what a yummy snake breakfast

izumi said 👁 👄 👁

izumi is so hot

that is the creepiest motherfucker i ever did see

ok im gonna go rinse this dish out be back in a min!!!

episode 29: the untainted child

i am the tainted adult

you SURE his parents are lookin?

i feel like izumi is being very loving towards this child

what happened to tough love bbygirl

im not saying shes not loving in her ways but shouldnt she by nature be a litttttleeee bit more sus of this kid???

dont tell me

this is sig and izumi’s “child”

theory pending

winry is such a protective lil egg

here’s whats cookin in my head

its sig and izumi’s child and ed’s arm and leg smooshed together into a homunculus...theory still pending but im definitely right

WHY DOES SIG SLEEP W HIS EYES OPEN SIR!!!!!!!

whole situation is a mess my dudes

what did u do kid?????

“i know ed lies sometimes”

l oh fucking l

who transmutes themselves with a bed though

not the move kid

OPE

of course winry slept through this whole thing

sheska and elicia and gracia. my heart.

did the colonel just LEAVE HER BEHIND? god what a dick

sheska WENT OFFFFFFFF!!!!!!

yes maam!!!!!!!

u tell that dumbass!!!!!!

why does envy have to sit like that

gon make me SIMP

embarrassing

*debby ryan hair tuck meme*

i love the way al sits

hes so dainty

what a gent

oh that lil kid was in the gate!!!!

how a homunculus is born? please tell me more

ARCHER....my sister was texting me about him when she asked how far i was. i googled him i saw his....bod....

yup

ARM AND LEG CONFIRMED

my brain waves are unparalleled

ED REALLY JUST YEETED WINRY AND KABEDONED THE HOMUNCULUS

EDWARD STOPPPPPPPPPPPPP OMG

off goes the kid

BIDOOOOOOOOOOO <3

why is she upset??? what did you realize izumi

that its your baby??? probs

im just that smart

episode 30: assault on south headquarters

YOKI LMAO

seeing yoki and scar makes me miss mei chang

MEI CHANG SUPREMACY

yoki really about to snitch

BIDOOOOOO

everyone showing up this episode

greed is gonna roll up with a venti frappuccino any minute now

archer is a creep

is this footage from the arnold classic?

“the muscles did the talking for them”

archer is a creep

who ru calling a freak HAHA AL’s angwy voice

ope

how IS hughes doing

pls not the pain

how did this kid come into the corporeal world

armstrong what

OUROBOROS

so he’s either wrath or pride ig

i dont think bradley is a homunculus in this one

yoki is basically michael yagoobian aka the bowler hat guy

there’s greed lmao

with the ladies

EW NO PLEASE GOD

I DONT WANT ANY MORE SHOU TUCKER

KIMBLEE WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK WHO CUT HIS HAIR LIKE THAT

WHO ALLOWED THAT I AM CHOKING

NOT THE MULLET PONYTAIL

izumi taking on the military

of course

kimblee JESUS

bradley is EVERYWHERE at ALL TIMES

this is rOUGH

there are so many parties vying for the kid

i still cant get over kimblee like WHAT

WHAT IS HIS PURPOSE HERE

AGAIN it just seems like bradley is everywhere at all times

#carol watches fma03 #fullmetal alchemist #carol's remaining brain cells #hi!!!!!#back w reactz #yay

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a-singleboat · 5 years

Text

Punishment Zombie Shootout

Word Count: 1576

A/N: I love Kimmy and erasure of her is not Kimmy hate. Also! I will be doing each video as a fic (if I can work it in) but each time will be a different person :)

A/N 2: I know I seem desperate at this point but pls reblog if you like this so I know to keep writing

You watched from the sidelines as Matt Raub introduced the green team, Toxicitea, to the camera. They all ran out together, doing what they had created to be their team chant which also apparently included having Shayne scream into the camera for what seemed to be a solid thirty seconds. In reality, it was probably closer to five seconds though it garnered some laughs from the crew.

Through the chaos, Matt managed to get his question out to which Olivia stepped forward in a gangly fashion and spoke her piece. “Oh yeah, you know what’s the tea? The other team sucks!”

“We’re gonna drop our bags right into their–” Ian struggled to finish his sentence, stepping back as Shayne swooped in with his brass comment.

“And by bags, we mean testicles!”

There was clapping and there was also you off to the side, nearly cracking up at the team’s choice words. Courtney grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight as Matt clapped his hands together and spoke loudly to the viewers. “Introducing the pink team, team Mushroom Clout!”

You let go of each other’s hands and ran out with everyone else, chanting your own team’s name. Lasercorn attempted some sort of cartwheel and landed as everyone else converged into one big group to mimic the explosion noises. You were standing right behind Courtney but in front of Damien, which also happened to be a prime camera spot. You shouted along with your group, pulling down your shirt ever so slightly to show off the Mushroom Clout logo on the front.

“You cannot defeat us,” Lasercorn proclaimed, showing off his midsection. “For we have the power of the streak!”

“I thought it said steak.”

You laughed at Matt’s offhand comment and moved to stand on Keith’s other side, right behind Lasercorn. “The prophecy must be–”

Lasercorn cut himself off, looking down at his stomach. “Does it really.” He looked up and pointed straight at the purple-haired girl. “Mari wrote it.”

“Does the prophecy include you showing your nipples through your shirt?” Ian pointed straight at Lasercorn’s chest, which with further inspection did show nipples. You laughed and pulled his shoulders back so you could check to see if his nipples were actually being shown through his shirt.

“Yes!” Lasercorn shouted before raising his arms into the air. “Victory eternal–” was all he could get out before Olivia came over and slapped his stomach.

Lasercorn was quick to call them out on cheating and asked for, “Ten points minus them.”

“Okay, this is a lot,” Matt was quick to do damage control. “This is a lot, but may I point out that Sohinki, you look a lot different.”

You shouted out and stepped forward, flexing for the camera. Courtney behind you shouted, “We got Y/n!” You then stood up nicely and blew a kiss to the camera before all focus went back to Matt Raub.

Not soon after, the challenge started. The points were as follows; fifty for a headshot, twenty-five for a body shot, and two-hundred for nailing the squirrel that was perched upon Bob Ross.

Person after person went up, punishments ranging from an Atomic Wet Willy—which had gone to Wes—to an Ice Bucket Dump—which had gone to Damien. All in all, you were pretty jealous of Damien who had gotten to get cool on that outrageously hot day.

It rolled around to Joven’s turn, which made you nervous because that meant it was approaching your turn. Of course, you would be near the last person to go, which added to all the nerves at the end of the day.

You screamed in disgust as Joven sucked Courtney’s toe and clung onto the nearest person, which happened to be Shayne, and hid in his chest. You fake gagged a few times before breaking out into laughter that turned into words of comfort for Courtney.

When she was returned back to you guys, you pulled her in close and rubbed her back. “Nobody else has sucked my toe but me until today.” Her voice was sad but you couldn’t help but laugh at the statement.

“Well, at least you know what it feels like now.”

“Never again.”

Noah’s turn passed over with a Courtney Gas Mask Burp, to which he proclaimed that he could taste to Cola that she had just drunk. The thought of that actually brought the thought of throwing up to your mind as Shayne took his place for his turn.

Shayne gave his speech about the squirrel that terrorized him in his apartment complex. “And he’s just there just like,” he mimicked what the squirrel would do. “And I just can’t get around him.

“It’s true, the squirrel almost didn’t let me leave one night,” you spoke up, fanning yourself with your hand. “The bully squirrel. The bully squirrel’s brother.”

He pointed at you and then swung his arm around to point it at the squirrel perched on Bob Ross’s shoulder. “That squirrel, I’m gonna get him.”

You bit the nail of your thumb as his teammates shouted advice at him in shooting the squirrel. He took aim and fired, watching as the arrow swooped right by the squirrel and Sarah stepped forward to examine the squirrel.

“It hit the very tip of the tail!” She proclaimed as the rest of the green team broke out into cheers. Ian and Shayne hugged before he ran up to the camera and shouted that he was still scared of the squirrel.

He took his position and pulled a slip of paper.

“It just says die,” he let the joke hit and then continued. “No, aw crap. Armpit Lick.”

Everyone showed sympathy as he contemplated the paper he just pulled. Lasercorn was persuading him not to do it as he started to walk away.

“I won’t kiss you for a month if you do this, Shayne!”

He turned around and pointed straight at you. “No. The first thing I’m gonna do after we win this is to kiss you.”

You screamed as he took a running start and licked the whole length of Ryan’s armpit. You watched as he spat out the saliva in his mouth and then stumbled around to the cameras like a man gone mad.

Ian shouted, “He needs some milk,” as Shayne stumbled over to you.

He tried to pull you in but you resisted, laughing and protesting that he go bleach his mouth before it could go anywhere near you. He found his way back to standing next to Ryan.

“I can tell that you went to the gym two days ago, used the elliptical. You’ve eaten a fine steak meal in the past day. You’re feeling positive and you have good fortune coming your way. I can tell all of that.”

“That’s cool, do me next!” Mari jumped at the chance but didn’t move from her spot.

Shayne put his hands on his hips. “I might also just be having toxic shock, I don’t know.”

You clapped politely as you moved to the shooting spot, dodging Shayne on the way over. One glimpse at his face though had you catching his arm to pull him into a hug. The cast ‘awed’ at your public display of affection to which you stuck your tongue out at them and continued to walk to the shooting station.

Your hands shook as you stepped up to the plate. “I think I might have to go for the squirrel to bring us back up.”

You missed once, ignoring Joven’s taunt as you took aim once again. You shot and it hit Bob Ross, but not where you wanted it to. You had hit the paint pallet which counted as a body shot for twenty-five points. You stood out in the open and pulled your punishment.

“Global Warming?”

“Global Warming is every member of the opposite team gets to breathe hot breath on you,” Matt explained, causing your eyebrow to quirk up.

“Alright,” you shook out your arms. “No big deal.”

The whole team ran up and breathed their hot breath onto your body, Shayne sneaking his hands in to tickle you the slightest bit. You squirmed away from his hands and pushed him off as the rest of his team retreated.

“You watched Ian and Lasercorn’s turn passed on by, your arm slung around Courtney’s waist and her arm around your neck. You both slumped over slightly as the winners were pronounced as Toxicitea.

After filming for that had ended, you opted to seek out Shayne in the post-filming chaos.

When you finally found him in a bathroom, furiously brushing his teeth and soon after rinsing with mouthwash. You knocked twice on the door to alert him of your presence and he looked up, seeing you in the mirror. He walked over to you as you closed the door, pulling you in close. He looked down at you, his freshly minty breath rolling over you in waves.

“I think I deserve that kiss now.”

“I mean, I did say not for another month.”

He dipped his head lower and placed his lips on yours, melding them together in something needy and passionate. To tell the truth, it had been a while since you two had last kissed, or even been in the same room alone together, with filming for Summer Games and just having two different filming schedules.

“I’m glad you said yes to being on summer games this year.”

“And I’m glad I could be here.”

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

Text

Daniel Michaelson: Laced Drink

(another @whumptober2019 prompt for Day 20: Laced Drink. I went with kind of a different take on it, I hope you guys like it!. TW: for nonconsensual touching (nothing NSFW or anything), being forced to drink something against their will)

Nate blinks awake to the sound of a mumbling voice, just a little too muffled to understand. He shifts around in the bed, pushing himself up on his elbows where he lays on his stomach under the heavy soft blankets that Abraham layers one atop the other until Nate feels weighed down by them, by their warmth.

“Bram? Is th-that you?”

“Fuck off, baby,” Bram says without opening his eyes, his voice affectionate but still sleep-slurred, nuzzling into Nate’s neck.

He’s still asleep enough that Nate feels safe pulling away from him, shivering only half in disgust, half in something worse.

The voice definitely isn’t Bram - the mumbling is still going, pauses in-between like he’s listening to half of a conversation someone’s having on the phone. Nate groans, trying to stretch and pull himself all the way awake, feeling skin pull over scratches and bruised spots, wincing a little.

Bram’s arm slides off of him when he moves and the other man - the man he hates and fears and somehow, somehow, feels a helpless despairing love for - rolls onto his other side, back to him, and Nate breathes a sigh of relief.

He still can’t quite stop himself from leaning in to kiss one cold bare shoulder, even though he doesn’t want to, even though he hates Bram so, so much.

He can’t help the little thrill of sick happiness when Bram mumbles, “God, I love you so much, baby,” and then relaxes fully back into sleep.

He hates himself - but he can’t help it.

It’s like a spell - a spell he was under for years and somehow broke and escaped and now he’s under it again, hypnotized, charmed, held captive by his mind as much as by any of the injuries he’s had inflicted on him - and there are so, so many ways to be injured he’d never known before he met Ashley and Abraham.

Before they followed him home.

Before they murdered his best friend.

Before they took him away.

They dragged him out of his own home drugged and beaten and worse days after murdering Ross, kept him locked up and bleeding, and still - still he loves Bram, and hates himself for being so broken as to feel love he didn’t ever want for a man who is a goddamn monster who has hurt him in so many ways and hurts Danny in so many more.

In his sleep, Bram seems utterly normal. Relaxed and breathing deeply, all the power and charisma locked away behind closed eyes. He could be anyone other than who - what - he is.

Nate sometimes lays just like this, watching him sleep, idly fantasizing about smothering him with a pillow or sneaking out of bed to get a knife to stab him with, dumping arsenic in his drink at dinner, just anything - any murder at all would be wonderful.

He won’t, though.

He can’t - and he and Bram both know it. They both know Nate will never do anything more than dream, now.

He escaped once, and then only because Ashley Denner hadn’t given a shit whether or not he loved her - so he didn’t, and he’d been able to kill her while Bram was out hunting for new people to slaughter to sate himself.

He couldn’t turn on Bram.

He wouldn’t dare, not for his own sake.

Although lately he’s started to think that maybe, just maybe, he could if it would help Danny.

Danny had just been some younger guy that he kept sort of thinking about, but here in the cabin, trapped, Nate thought about him all the time.

Danny had been funny, sarcastic and cynical and cursing every other breath - and he’d thought Nate’s quiet dry wit was hilarious. When that part of Danny came back - and it did, when they watched old movies or Bram brought back one of those weird kids’ make-your-own-suncatcher kits and they spent half the night painting them (and eventually each other, laughing in whispered gasps to keep from waking Bram up) - Nate thought he might be falling in love with Danny, too.

Maybe it was just because they were captives together.

Maybe he would have fallen for him anyway.

Nate doesn’t ask - you never ask why, that’s a rule, and Nate follows the rules even for his own feelings, because he’s nothing if not a master at simply burying his emotions in a kind of quiet empty cry for help inside his head that he never, ever lets out.

Maybe he can do something to escape, if he could know for sure it would work, that it would let him get Danny out alive. But every time he thinks about it, he thinks about how Bram will really kill Danny if they get caught trying to escape together… and he can’t do it.

He has to get him out of here - but he just… can’t.

He’s not sure how long he has before there isn’t much Danny left to rescue. He goes away a little more each day, no longer answers to his name, only to the stupid dog-name Bram gave him. He sleeps curled up out there on the thin plastic mat in the early spring chill and he deserves so much more than life as a captive Bram keeps just to see how broken he can make someone.

And Danny is so, so broken. Something of him was still in there, though - Nate could see it in the fury that sometimes still lit the blue eyes, an anger he didn’t dare show. He saw it when Danny remembered, every once in awhile, that he could laugh.

Like the suncatchers thing - when Danny had nearly passed out from trying to hold the laughter back, blue streaks painted in his red hair, a swipe of green across one cheek, and the red nose Nate had given him and called him Rudolph for three days afterward whenever Bram wasn’t close enough to hear it.

Danny had leaned over and painted him right back, a spiral in purple on one cheek and a happy face in green on the other, and finally a streak of blue that started at the line of his black hair and went down the center of his face, the cool paint and slightly scratchy bristled moving in a slow, solid line down over his nose, his mouth, chin, and finally straight down his neck over the scars from every time Ashley carved the collar, until they had reached the neckline of his shirt-

And Danny had stopped, looking up at his eyes, and smiled at him. I wish we were anywhere other than here doing this, Danny had said softly, and then grinned at him, only the barest hint of the darkness in his eyes. Because then I would get you drunk enough to pass out and paint dicks all over you.

Then he’d collapsed back into giggles, and the moment of tense waiting for something, something neither of them could really give in this place, was gone, and Nate laughed with him.

Then there was the Blair Witch day.

Danny had tied a bunch of sticks with twine into Blair Witch effigies and hung them around the clearing near the cabin, twelve or thirteen altogether. It’d taken him all afternoon and when he was done, he’d laughed at his own stupid joke until he fell over, hand pressed to the side where his old broken rib still hurt sometimes, pulling Nate down with him until the two of them were covered in dust and dirt, still laughing.

Bram had paused in his work scraping hides to look up and smile at his two good boys getting along so well.

The laughter died in them both when Bram smiled.

If he is ever going to do anything, it has to be before Danny stops being able to laugh, and there seem to be fewer and fewer times when he laughs now.

Nate tries to shake the thoughts of escape, making himself lay back down with the image of Danny laughing behind his eyes, but the mumbling doesn’t stop. After a moment his sleepy brain wakes the rest of the way up and he realizes it’s not Danny maybe watching TV out there - the mumbling is Danny himself.

Nate’s eyes blink back open and he’s immediately fully awake. He slides carefully out of the bed, disturbing it as little as possible, and Bram doesn’t even move. He usually doesn’t, once he’s asleep, trusting in Danny’s chain and Nate’s broken spirit to keep him safe.

Nate hates that his trust is not misplaced.

The floor is freezing cold under his bare feet as he tiptoes out to the living room, closing the bedroom door slowly behind him. The room is dark but there’s a full moon tonight and moonlight shines through the windows over by the door, lighting the whole room in a kind of eerie blue-white, everything perfectly visible but off-color, like watching a black-and-white movie that someone just barely colorized.

He expects to see Danny curled up on his mat like always, in the defensive sleeping position that’s become second nature to him - hands over his head or stomach to ward off the blow, knees to his chest, head tucked in so as little is exposed as possible, wrapped in every single one of the threadbare blankets he is given and usually still shivering from cold, almost always in just a thin T-shirt and old cotton pajama pants unless Bram deems him good enough to earn a sweater or flannels.

Instead, Danny is sitting up on his mat, his back to Nate, talking to himself.

Nate pauses, swallows hard, and just listens.

“Have to look in the woods,” Danny mumbles, words slurred like he’s drunk, shoulders hunched in on themselves. His head hangs forwards, just a little, hair falling over his eyes. “You have to look, to look in the woods, Ryan.”

Ryan.

That’s his brother’s name - he’d told Nate he had a younger brother, they talked about it a lot in the early days, the biological child of the people who adopted him and who then largely forgot they had two sons and cared only about the younger.

There’s a pause, and then Danny says softly, “He says you aren’t looking anymore, Ryan. Are you-… are you still looking?”

Nate moves slowly forward, giving Danny sort of a wide berth, trying to get a look at his face. When he comes all the way around to where he can see him, Danny jumps a little and turns, looking over at Nate.

Even in the dark, his eyes are glassy and fogged-over, and Nate can see the stripes of color high in his cheeks, the shimmer of clammy sweat on his forehead and the tip of his nose, the place Nate had once painted red because he’d wanted so badly to kiss it but didn’t dare.

“Danny-” Nate catches himself and glances over his shoulder, but the bedroom door is still closed, and he can hear Bram snoring, just faintly, through the door. He turns back. “R-Red, are you okay?”

“Ryan’s here,” Danny says, and his voice is still slurred. He can’t quite seem to lift his head all of the way up, and his hands are rubbing compulsively at his thighs, the way you rub at your aching knee on a rainy day. “He doesn’t know where to look, Nate. I told him, I told him you have to, um, to look in the woods. Bram always says no one’s looking anymore, no one misses me, but Ryan does. He’s still looking, Nate, he promises he’s still looking.”

“I d-d-don’t d-doubt it, Red, b-but…” Nate moves slowly closer, cautiously, watching Danny’s face as he does. The foggy blue eyes slide away from him, back to the spot he was looking at before, but Danny doesn’t tense up or try to pull away when he reaches out one hand.

Danny’s forehead is sweat-soaked and slick and burns so hot Nate pulls his hand back with a hiss.

“This is Nate,” Danny says out loud, without looking back at him. “He’s in the woods, too. Can you, can you tell the cops to look for him, too? Nathaniel Vandrum. That’s his whole name, Ryan. Can you, can you tell them? Please, Ryan, are you still looking?” Danny leans forward, pleadingly, lifting his hands to show them to the phantom brother only he can see.

Nate swallows against the guilt at the lines of red, inflamed scars that travel up his hands, cut just over the tops of the visible veins, cut over and over and over again until the marks were deep and permanent.

Each scar is a rule Danny has broken, each cut carved into him until he swears he won’t break it again.

Nate knows exactly how that feels - his own hands bear the same scars, just a few years older.

“Ryan, don’t give up,” Danny whispers, and his eyes are starting to fill with tears. “Please don’t stop looking for me. Please, you’re the only one who will, please don’t stop looking, I’m in the woods-”

“I c-c-c-can’t fu, fucking l-listen to th-this,” Nate mutters, backing away from him, trying to think. He leaves Danny mumbling to go into the kitchen, pulling the tea Danny had made earlier out in its giant pitcher, pouring a small cup of it. It’s hawthorn berry tea, something Danny had found a recipe for in one of the survivalist books the body had had out here before Bram decided he wanted this cabin. It’s sweetened with plenty of honey Danny had stirred in while it was still hot, and it should cover the taste of the medicine well enough.

He can hear Danny still talking to his brother as he moves over to the bathroom, pulling down the cold medicine, pouring a dose of the syrup into the tea and then stirring to dissolve it as best he can.

After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs the thermometer, too.

They say sometimes to let a fever run its course, but if that meant listening to Danny beg his brother to find him - when Nate knew very well no one ever would, no one ever found Bram unless he wanted to be found - he couldn’t do it.

Nate stared at his own reflection in the mirror - he was older by years than Danny but he’d lost so much of his life to Bram by now that he didn’t really feel it. The face that looked back at him seemed hardly recognizable - he’d been smiling in the last photo anyone ever took of him before there was this, a professor in a suit and tie, in his second year of teaching adjunct and deeply in love with the life he was building.

All the photos of him now had shadows around the eyes, buried deep within the mossy green there, shaggy half-chopped black hair with a curl at the nape of his neck where it always ended up just a little too long. All the photos of him now had the scar in his lip, still healing from the last time he’d really angered Bram by trying to stand up for Danny. All the photos of him now showed the rings of scars around his neck from Ashley’s collar.

He’d worn a lot of turtlenecks and high-necked sweaters when he was out, for those few months, before Bram had tracked him back down.

“You can’t let him turn into you,�� Nate says to his reflection, but all he gets back is an empty mouthing echo of his own words.

Danny will turn into something worse, in the end, because Bram doesn’t love him. There’s nothing to stop him from going too far, nothing but the fact that he still find Danny amusing. If Nate can’t figure out where all his courage is hiding and do something, Danny will eventually be too injured to recover.

And if Danny dies, Nate will have absolutely no reason left to remember himself.

Out in the living room, he hears Danny’s muttering change into something fearful, the sound of the chain scraping along the ground, and then he hears the younger man start to cry, the sniffling sound of him trying to hold it back but failing.

He can’t listen to Danny’s tears, not for the days it might take the fever to break on its own. He’s barely hanging on by swinging from each time Danny remembers how to laugh to the next.

Each swing on the vine takes longer, forces him to go further, and Nate isn’t sure he can keep himself together much longer if Danny stops entirely.

When he comes back out of the bathroom, he freezes at the sight of Bram sitting on the couch with the side table lamp lit, Danny settled between his legs with his back to him, Bram’s fingers running through Danny’s hair, petting him gently, oh so gently, with one hand while the other rubs at the back of his neck.

Nate can see how badly Danny is shaking from all the way across the room the careful way he is holding himself very still, the blank blue eyes staring directly ahead of himself, tear tracks a visible shimmer along the scarring on his face.

“H-he’s sick, B-Bram,” Nate says, hesitantly. “I w-w-went to g-get a thermom.. thermo… thermometer.”

“Oh, I know, baby,” Bram replies cheerfully, without even pausing in his movements. “I heard you get up, decided to come out and see for myself what my good boys were up to.” He looks over at Nate, raising an eyebrow at the glass in one hand. “What’s that?”

“M-medicine. R-Red hates t-t-t-taking medicine, so I f-figured put some in t-t-tea so he can’t taste it…” He shrugs, trying to keep his voice casual, trying not to let on how much it bothers him to watch Danny’s absolute terror wash through him, again and again, adrenaline not fighting the fever but fueling its rise.

He moves around, setting the glass on the side table (Bram shoots him an irritated look before picking up a coaster and loudly moving it underneath the cup) and crouches in front of Danny, looking him over. He’s even redder, if that’s possible, and the sweat is gone, replaced by a blistering dry heat underneath his skin that Nate can only stand for a moment.

He’s like a furnace, isn’t he?” Bram says in a low, delighted voice. “I could use him for a space heater in bed like this.”

“O-open your m-m-mouth please, D-… Red,” Nate says softly, flinching as he nearly uses the wrong name. Bram only shakes his head, and Nate shoots him a mute look of apology as Danny obediently opens his mouth, letting Nate slide the thermometer under his tongue and turn it on with a tiny, barely-audible ‘beep’.

“Eye-an ish thalk-ing oo ee,” Danny slurs around the thermometer. His eyes keep glancing off of Nate’s and then bouncing around the room and back again.

Ssshhh, Red, g-g-give me j-just a seh… a second,” Nate says softly, gently pushing his jaw up so his mouth closes all the way. Bram’s hands never stop their gentle petting and massaging at his head and neck, and Danny trembles the whole time under the touch he can’t stand but knows better than to reject.

When the thermometer beeps again, Nate pulls it out of Danny’s mouth, holding the little screen at an angle where he can see the digital numbers in black against the light green. He squints, then looks up at Danny’s pale, red-cheeked face again. “106.8. H-holy sh-sh-shit. No f-f-fucking w-wonder he’s s-seeing th-things, Bram.”

“What are you seeing, little Red?” Bram asks in a tone of syrupy sweetness, and Nate is suddenly deeply sorry he even mentioned hallucinations at all. Bram leans down, the hand in Danny’s hair dropping to his right shoulder, sliding down over the upper arms that are becoming muscled from nearly two years of the heavy lifting and chores he’s responsible for, the other leaving his neck to curve around his left arm and hold that, too. “Hm?”

“M-my brother,” Danny answers, his voice shaking, blue eyes searching the room where he was looking before. “Ryan is, he’s still looking, Abraham, he’s still looking for me, I just have to tell him-”

“He’s not looking for you, you fucking whore,” Bram murmurs without the slightest change in tone. “No one is. What’s even left of you now, hm?”

“N-no,” Danny whimpers, and Nate shatters a little more.

But a little of his unwilling, unwanted love for Bram shatters, too.

“No, Ryan’s looking, he says he’s looking-… you have to look in the woods, Ryan, we’re in the woods-” Bram’s hands tighten around his arms and Danny cuts himself off, but his eyes stay on that corner of the room, staring and staring and staring at the brother he can see there, someone Nate has only seen in a couple of cell phone photos Danny showed him before the night they were taken away. “Please don’t stop looking for me,” Danny begs the empty corner, straining against Bram’s grip. “Please, please don’t stop looking, Ryan, please, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“No one is ever going to find you here,” Bram says softly. “No one is looking any longer, Red. We’re all you have now - Nate and me. We’re the only ones who could want something as fucked up as you.” His eyes lift to Nate’s, and the cold inhuman amusement in them shifts, warms, becomes the love and affection he always shows his true love.

Nate could kill him right now.

Only he… only he still can’t. He’s never hated Bram more than this, but he can’t do it, he can’t lift a finger, and Bram knows it.

“Give him his medicine, baby,” Bram purrs, smooth a silk, and Danny begins to struggle in his grip. He’s too sick to do more than pull weakly against the hands that hold him, and Bram leans forward in a sudden violent lunge, throwing an arm around his chest to pull him up tight against him, the other moving to his jaw - thumb on one side, fingers on the other.

Danny freezes, eyes wide in fear, as though only now realizing that he’s been struggling, when you never pull away from Abraham Denner.

Never reject a touch.

“I’m sorry,” Danny says in a sudden rush, struggling to get the words out from around Bram holding his jaw. “I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean-… I just… it’s just, Ryan’s here, I can see him-”

“Don’t give a fuck,” Bram says softly. “Nate says you need medicine. My baby gets what he wants.”

Nate hasn’t moved, only staring at them, breathing hard.

I hate you, I hate you so fucking much, I love you, I love him, how can you do this to him, how can you make me be part of what you do to him, why can’t I kill you, I love you so much I hate you I love you I hate you

I love him

“I said, give him his medicine,” Bram says, and his voice drops into something low and laced with threat and ice, and Nate nods quickly, grabbing the cup off the side table. A dose of medicine for the fever, stirred into a few inches of honey-laced tea.

He takes a deep breath, looks into Danny’s teary eyes, and says softly, “I’m s-s-sorry, Red. I h-have to, you can’t h-h-have a fever this high. Y-your leg’s probably inf-infected or something, I’ll clean it o-out once the fever’s d-d-d-down-”

“Please,” Danny begs him, begs him, and Nate has never felt more like slime. His voice is a high, ragged plea that bounces off the beams in the ceiling and back down. “Please don’t take Ryan away. Please, please, don’t take Ryan away from me, Nate, please! Please let me keep my brother!”

“F-f-fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m s-s-so s-s-s-s-” He can’t get the words out, his own eyes are hot with tears, but he lifts the glass and Bram uses his thumb and fingers to force Danny’s mouth open as he tries to hold it closed.

Danny shakes his head as much as he can, violently, but Bram’s grip is strong and inexorable and eventually Danny’s mouth is forced open far enough for Nate to pour some of the tea in.

Bram snaps it shut, holding Danny’s mouth closed with about a third of the tea in there. He looks at Nate, glacial eyes cold and delighted. “Pinch his nose.”

“Wh-what? Bram, I, I c-c-can’t-”

“Do it.”

Nate closes his eyes for a second against a wash of shame so strong it nearly knocks him over, and then reaches out and pinches Danny’s nose closed with his own thumb and finger.

Danny, eyes wide, struggles again, fights as hard as he can - but he’s sick and weak and he was tired and hungry before that, and eventually he has to swallow if he wants to breathe. As soon as he does, Nate yanks his hand back and Danny breathes as hard as he can through his nose.

Then Bram forces his jaw open again, to Danny’s low pained wordless whine. “Again,” He orders Nate, and this time Nate doesn’t hesitate.

He all but throws his hand forward to pour more of the medicine into Danny’s mouth, and again they force his mouth and nose shut until he swallows.

A third time, and Danny’s taken all of the medicine and Bram shoves him forward and away from himself as hard as he can.

Danny smacks hard into the floor on his stomach, crying hoarsely, whispering, “No, no, you have to keep looking, you can’t stop trying to find me,” and Nate leans over to rub his back. It’s the only thing he can think of to do.

“I’m going back to bed,” Bram says, looking down at the two of them. He pauses, then leans down to run his fingers through Nate’s black hair and down over his neck. “You can stay out here with him, if you want, baby.”

“Thank you, B-Bram,” Nate says, and he really means it; it’s a sick, awful gratitude he feels, but still he’s grateful, even just for this much mercy. He lets Bram rest a hand on top of his head for another moment before he turns and walks away, back into the bedroom, and closes the door.

It wasn’t much, but it was still mercy, and Bram has so little to give.

Be grateful for every gift you are given.

He manages to get Danny back onto his mat, sitting next to him on the wood floor and rubbing his back as he curls back into his ball. He shakes for a while and cries, but eventually the medicine kicks in and Nate watches Danny’s breath slow, his eyes flutter back closed, a cold sweat breaking out all across him as the fever drops.

“I h-hate this,” He says in a thick heavy voice, slurred now with sleep rather than sickness.

Nate nods, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead, in that little spot between his eyes where there’s a furrow that never seems to leave. “M-me too,” Nate whispers. “I’m s-s-sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too, Nate.” Danny’s limbs have gone loose and Nate pulls the blankets around him as tightly as he can, kisses him one more time, on the top of his head. “I’m so sorry,” Danny murmurs. “I wish…”

“I w-w-w-wish too, Danny,” Nate whispers, low enough he knows Bram won’t hear it. “I wish, t-too.”

I love you.

I hate him.

I love him.

I love you.

Once he’s totally sure Danny is asleep, Nate unfolds himself and lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake. Guilt is an ever-present beat in him, right alongside his heart.

All he can hear is the sound of Danny begging him not to take his brother away.

#whumptober2019 #no.21 #prompt: laced drink #whump #comforting caretaker #caretaker forced to be whumper #intimate whumper #violent whumper #broken whumpee #prior whumpee #Daniel Michaelson's story #Nathaniel vandrum #Abraham denner #tw: nonconsensual touching #tw: forced ingestion of drink #sickfic #conditioning #dehumanization #caretaker

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panickedvulture · 5 years

Text

I Think I Love You

Summary: Brendon’s been trying to get over this stupid crush ever since he found out you have a boyfriend. To speed up the process Dallon and Spencer put him through a series of tests to determine if he really loves you or not.

Pairing: Brendon Urie x Reader, Dallon Weekes, Spencer Smith

Warnings: Profanity, Vices & Virtues Era

A/n: The scene with dialogue written in italics is a flashback. Here’s a lil imagine I started writing a long time ago to the tune of “I Think I Love You” by the Partridge family. It’s cute (I think) and short (3k) and hope you enjoy it!

“Alright! Fine, you win, I lose!” Brendon huffs, giving Spencer and Dallon a forced, flat-lipped smile as he throws his hands up in defense. They’re sitting around Brendon’s coffee table, pushed away from his couch to give them all some room to sit comfortably. It’s littered with torn papers, paper with incomprehensible sharpie scribbles seeping through, glass bottles and cans of soda, along with empty bags of vending-machine chips shoved inside one another.

“I-I like Y/n, alright?” He reaches for his orange Fanta, on the verge of tipping over considering its stacked atop unevenly folded napkins they’ve used to clean up a handful of spills tonight. He throws his head back and lets the bubbles sting his throat, but he gulps heavily and takes a breath once he slams it back down on the table. “It’s no big deal,” he insists, his bulging eyes looking to the side.

He feels a warmth come to his face and goes to take another drink but no matter how tight he closes his eyes while the burn of the newly-opened soda travels down his throat, he can’t block out Dallon’s cackling and Spencer repeating, “Wait wait wait wait wait…wait a minute—”

“I said it’s no big deal!” Brendon coughs and pats his fist against his chest. “Can we just like, get back to writing. Please?”

Spencer leans into the table, eyeing Dallon who has his curled fist pressed to his lips, then to Brendon, whose lips are sucked into his mouth as his grip on his drink tightens.

“You didn’t say you like Y/n, you said you love Y/n! Not love-d! Love!”

“Well, it was a false alarm, Spencer!”

Dallon lets out a breath, shaking his hair as he gets all of the air out of his puffed out cheeks. Then he leans back against the lounge chair, and puts his hands behind his head. “How can you ‘love’ a girl then not even let her come to her band’s writing session. Geesh…”

Brendon scoffs, “I never said this was a writing session!”

“You just asked if we could get back to writing…” Dallon mumbles, looking down at his lap.

Spencer hums and takes a sip of his drink. “Ah yes,” he swallows, “That’s because you insisted it was a boys night when she attempted to include herself in the conversation—“

“Actually,” Dallon starts, “A conversation she was already included in to begin with, but you just decided to pretend like she didn’t exist.”

Spencer nods and gives Dallon a high-five.

At this point, Brendon’s finished his soda. He’s drinking it with so much rigor he might as well be venting in a bar, but it’s just orange Fanta. He would go and get himself another one but he’s already had six or seven tonight despite Spencer’s wise advice to “Simmer down.”

Brendon really does feel like a schoolboy with a crush on a schoolgirl. He’s sitting in his house with his friends who’ve laughed at him for daring to have feelings, and to replace alcohol he’s downed six (or seven) sodas of the sugariest kind. Only thing is he’s a grown man dammit who’s allowed to drink yet doesn’t even have the balls to do anything but treat you like shit out of his own embarrassment.

You wouldn’t consider his treatment as shitty. He’s always been one to over-exaggerate. You’ve been the band’s only female member since the Fever days, playing rhythm guitar behind Ryan at first until you were bumped up to lead guitar. With working on three albums you’ve definitely been a victim of the boy’s lack of inclusion.

Hell, after you recorded “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off” you were glad Brendon couldn’t stand to look you in the eye and glad that Ryan and Spence were on their best behaviors and acting all ‘gentlemanly.’ And back then they were literal schoolboys.

“Uh, you can’t!” Brendon shouted as you took a slow sip from your drink. You were at some club. Brendon claimed that exploring the world fueled his writing, so you went with it. His fearful reaction was in response to you merely opening your mouth to inform them on if you would be able to go or not, but Brendon decided that for you.

You just stared at him, your top lip over your bottom one as the straw poked at the corners of your mouth. You took another slow sip, looking into Brendon’s eyes as his face flushed and he dug his hands in his pockets.

“Boys night. It’s uh,” he looked over his shoulder to Dallon and Spencer, “It’s a boys night...sorry Y/n.”

You giggled and right then you just felt him deflate and his warmth jumping to you. You were chock-full of embarrassment—you knew a crush when you saw it—and Brendon felt somewhat emasculated.

“Okay?” You said with caution, then stirred around your drink’s ice. “I was going to say I couldn’t regardless because—”

Brendon sputters, putting a hand on his hip and his elbow against the table. “Why is it that the one year I actually feel something more for her, she’s dating someone?!” Spencer and Dallon look at each other, then purse their lips and avoid Brendon’s eyes.

He’s kinda right…kinda.

You see, being the sole female in a dominantly male band has brought along its challenges, and Brendon is man enough to acknowledge that. The specifics though are something you haven’t exactly brought to his attention or things you’ve shrugged off with a forced smile when he’s brought them up to you. You haven’t been able to spend alone time with any of your bandmates from the day the press got involved without tales floating around of your induction in the band being solely because you got on your knees for one (or all) of them. As big as the “Ryden” craze was and as grateful you are now for your overall support from the fans, God was the hate overwhelming.

Which is why you took the first partner you got.

Spencer starts to whistle, reaching over the table to twist around a bag of Cheetos facing Brendon. Dallon does the same, sitting up straight and hunching his back to reach. They shrug, knowing you’ve been in a relationship for longer than Brendon’s giving you credit before.

Brendon stares at them in silence, then Spencer, after getting a few Cheetos in his mouth, snatches the notepad placed in front of Brendon. He reaches for the pen too then starts scribbling. Dallon cranes his neck to get a peak, and like school-children in the middle of a test, Spencer cups his hand around his writing to keep Dallon from seeing. He gives him a glare too.

“What are you doing?” Brendon stands up but keeps his knees bent, that way when he sits back down the drop won’t be too far.

“I,” Spencer starts, then sticks his tongue out between his lips as he focuses. He draws a T-chart and finishes it off with a wobbly line down the center of Brendon’s paper. He huffs, “am going to have you make a list.”

Brendon scrunches his face up, looking above their heads and to the nearest wall as he tries to think of what list Spencer could be talking about. Dallon reaches over the coffee table to tug at Brendon’s sleeve and Brendon hesitantly sits on his knees. He keeps his chin up but his eyes on Spencer’s paper.

Spencer finishes it, clicking the pen closed before he sets the pad and pen down in front of Brendon.

Brendon scoffs, “A pros and cons list—I’m not doing this!” He clutches the pen tight and tries handing Spencer the list.

“Oh come on why not?” Dallon asks.

“Because!” Brendon looked between the two. “It’s gross and rude and didn’t you see that episode of Friends? Fu-fucking Ross screwed up all his chances with Rachel, there’s no way in hell I’m doing this!”

“It’s true.” Dallon nods and Spencer sighs. He snatches the pen and pad from Brendon and holds it down with one hand as he presses the tip of the pen tight against the paper, drawing over the square section where the cons are supposed to go. With some effort and grunting as he tries to use his full force on the flimsy pen, Spencer’s weakened the paper enough to seamlessly rip the cons part from the rest of the page. He lets it float down to the carpet next to him, then drops the pen and pad down in front of Brendon again.

“First of all!” Spencer holds up a finger, “It was only like the second season, Ross did much much more to screw up his chances with Rachel. But if it bothers you that much then just do her pros.” Spencer shrugs, pressing his lips together tight.

Brendon looks to Dallon for some assurance that he should not do this, but Dallon shrugs and trains his eyes to the side of Spencer’s head.

“Fine,” Brendon grunts, clearing some napkins from the table so he can lay the notepad flat. He fiddles with the pen’s cap in his other hand but doesn’t write anything for a minute or two. Dallon and Spencer watch on with interest, holding their breaths. Brendon’s palm starts to sweat and in his frustration, he runs it through his hair.

He has so many ideas but he’s certain they’ll ridicule him for them. Some seem like too big of pros, some seem like too small, others he’s positive will require some explanation on his part and will lead to a roasting session. “Um, I dunno.” He rolls his eyes and scribbles down as he says, “her smile.”

His body shivers and tenses when he hears Dallon’s breath hitch and Spencer snickering.

Brendon runs his tongue over his lips and lifts his head up, his hair bouncing. “Look, just let me do this, alright?”

“Take your time,” Dallon says. Brendon glares at them then leans forward, using his arm to block the paper from their view. But knowing they’re not looking now isn’t enough. He knows the second he takes a break to stop once he starts, they’ll snatch it up and read the list so loud the neighbors will be able to hear.

He takes a deep breath and starts writing anyways.

It starts off small…physical things—her hair, her eyes, her face, her hands, her body—and eventually he looks up into space, presses his lips together, and shrugs before circling everything and writing—her—next to the bubble. Because it’s true.

Spencer cranes his neck to get a look, and Brendon growls at him. He’s like a mama fox protecting her baby, but the baby is you and he winces thinking of this comparison because oh man what he wouldn’t do to be able to protect you and hold you and call you his baby—but anyways he digresses.

Spencer and Dallon start to get really interested when Brendon giggles under his breath and blushes. And even more so when he bites onto the tip of his thumb to try and lessen the intensity of his smile (it doesn’t work). They begin to realize that Brendon isn’t having as much trouble as they expected. If this was truly a schoolboy crush he would have stopped after a few physical descriptions and simple memories of you doing minuscule things for him—but with how many bullet points he’s making he’s divulging onto paragraph territory.

“Okay!” Spencer snatches the paper from under Brendon and chucks it behind him.

“Hey! Dude!” Brendon huffs and sits up then picks up the paper. He flattens it out where Spencer’s grabby-hands had the audacity to crinkle it. Brendon is ready to start writing again now that he’s gotten into the flow.

Dallon holds his hand out and leans over the table, typing on his phone with his other hand. “Okay, so here’s how we’re gonna do this.” He holds out his hand for them to shush while he gets things in order then shows them a Cosmopolitan article. Not-so-short-story short, it’s a quiz. A simple, yes/no quiz.

“Question one!” Dallon clears his throat and Brendon furrows his brows at Spencer who leans back and puts his hands up in defense, having nothing to do with this.

“Hold on hold on—” Brendon pleads.

“Do you switch from being nervous and sweaty around them to almost being comfortable and perhaps chill around them?” Dallon wiggles his eyebrows.

Brendon thinks about it. He wouldn’t really say “comfortable and perhaps chill,” but he manages to keep the sweat in until the moment you leave. So he rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Yes.”

“Question five—”

“Wait what about—”

“You’re happy just to go to the store with them instead of planning the perfect evening deserving of its own rom-com montage and soundtrack?” Dallon lowers his brows and Spencer points at him then nods at Brendon, considering it a good question.

“I-wh-sure? Yeah yeah whatever, yes.”

“Question seven, when they sleep over, you’re cool with washing your face and brushing your teeth and going pee even without making a big deal out of it.”

“Of course.” Brendon looks at Spencer and Dallon, almost offended they would even ask.

“Question eight…” Brendon nods his head for Dallon to continue, and he does in a huff. “Younolongerdaydreamaboutsmoochingeverysinglerandomhottieyouseeoutinpublic—well of course not the only hottie you daydream about smooching is Y/n, next question!”

Spencer snatches the phone from him and Dallon doesn’t even argue. He just sighs and pouts.

Spencer giggles and “Oooohs.” Dallon looks over his shoulder and cracks a smile before Spencer reads it out loud. “Is it love, obsession, or just a crush?” He reads in a voice that would fit an entitled perfume commercial very well.

Spencer tosses the phone to Brendon and after giving them a glare Brendon takes the test. In the meanwhile, Spencer plays on his phone and Dallon sits in silence wondering when he’ll have his beloved back. Then Brendon groans softly with a mild grimace, and that can only mean it’s time for the results. So Spencer snatches the phone from Brendon again, and then Dallon snatches the phone from Spencer. He’s so proud it’s back in his possession he almost slips it in his pocket, completely forgetting the reason why it wasn’t in the first place.

Then he gets a peak of the results screen and huffs, blinking rapidly at Spencer and ignoring Brendon’s look of great discomfort.

Dallon clears his throat. “Is it love, obsession, or just a crush? Your result…” He eyes Spencer, and Spencer starts drumming on the table with two pens. “You’re—oops, not you-are, but your—in love at 88%.” He reads, “They mean the world to you and no one else seems to do. When your around them, nothing else exists but the two of you. It’s official, your more than just crushing on the object of your affections, you’ve fallen in love with them. You are only 25% obsessed.” He smiles.

Spencer raises his brows at Brendon and he’s finally had it. Brendon stands up, groaning loudly and running his hands through his hair. “Alright!” He shouts, stretching back and closing his eyes. He keeps one hand in his hair as the other flails to his side. “Okay okay, I might, just-just maybe love Y/n, just a tiny bit! Alright?!”

Spencer and Dallon look up at him. It’s kind of pitiful they think.

“But you know what?” Brendon reaches and grabs his bottle by the neck. He holds the uncovered top to his palm which means it’ll surely get sticky but he needs something to repeatedly ram into his hand and he’d rather it be this than the wall. He cackles, “It doesn’t matter! It does not matter one bit—” Spencer and Dallon’s eyes flicker behind him but they’re just messing with him again, of course, “—Because Y/n has a boyfriend and that boyfriend isn’t me and now I’m sad and alone and sad, because I’m in love with my bandmate who I haven’t appreciated during our entire relationship and it turns out not showing appreciation actually ruins a relationship, how about that?!” He huffs in a whiny tone, but still forces a smile. Then he looks down to his bottle of Fanta. There are still some drops left. He shakes the bottle around and hums, pleasing something minuscule is going right, then he throws his head back and lets those last few drops slide down his throat.

He turns to throw the bottle away before he smashes it out of frustration or pure clumsiness but stops with the bottle still hanging over his mouth as he sees you of all people standing in the door with your lips pursed and arms crossed over your chest. You have your laptop satchel slung over your shoulder. How could you let them start up a writing session without the heap of notes you saved on your laptop a week prior? They needed you, you were the source of organization these boys had.

Now you didn’t expect to walk into this….but it’s a pleasant surprise.

Still, you don’t have much in you to go grab Brendon by the face and finally get a taste of those lips he incessantly flops around much to your annoyance, so you raise your brows at Spencer and Dallon as a greeting before turning on your heel and walking out the front door. But you don’t leave. You just wait, and you smile knowing waiting was the right thing to do when you hear things being softly thrown inside, followed by Brendon cursing himself, followed by Brendon’s frantic footsteps.

You whip around, your arms still crossed and a slight smile tugging at your lips, but for Brendon’s sake you suppress it and bring in your firm brows.

He holds his hands up in defense. “I can explain. Okay? I just-I just, you know, we were just messing around in there and they were trying to test—”

You step closer and shake your head gently. You would have put your finger to his lips just to get a bit of a preview of how soft they are (and to see if they meet your expectations) but you don’t feel the need too. Brendon gulps and his voice fizzles away completely by the time you’re a foot in front of him.

You nod, “Go on.”

Brendon sighs. He thought you were going to hush him, reassure him that you knew it was a misunderstanding. The only problem was it wasn’t, and you knew that.

He deflates and kicks at the ground. “Y/n…I know you have a boyfriend and I respect that, alright?” He shrugs and purses his lips as he looks off to the side. “Everybody told me I’d get to liking you eventually I just didn’t expect it to happen literally the one time you weren’t available.” He looks you in the eye.

He’s not sweating. He’s comfortable, and perhaps chill.

“And so…you’re just gonna have to give me some time to let whatever I feel for you run its course. Okay? I promise things won’t be weird between us…if you’re down for that that is and if you’re not comfortable working with me for a while I—”

“Yeah, listen, I broke up with him like seven months ago.”

Brendon blinks. Then he lets his jaw go slack. “Seven?”

“Mhm…”

“Seven months ago—Y/n!” You look off then give him a flat-lipped smile. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

You shrug. “Eh. Nobody was really interested or involved when we were dating to begin with so I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Plus it’d mean nobody would rat about the break up to the press because you and I both know the second I do one of you three boys will be labeled as the reason being, right?”

Brendon nods weakly.

But then he realizes something. If you don’t have a boyfriend then…

“Bren you wanna go out some time? For drinks, or dinner, or a movie and have it not be a band outing? Or we can go to the park….the zoo?” You take a deep breath, thinking of all the possibilities. “We can go people-watch in the food court at the mall.”

Brendon’s breath is caught. He stares at you with wide eyes and a still slack jaw. Then, as everything has finally made sense to him, he cracks a smile.

“I think I love you.”

You suck your lip in between your teeth. “Is that a…yes?”

“Absolutely.”

#brendon urie imagines #brendon urie imagine #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie smut #panic! at the disco imagine #vices and virtues #vices&virtues #fluff #imagine

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