so if you have one please be kind and give it to me because i have an exam on monday

ot13; the ways you said "i love you"

Originally posted by 12fools

feat: reader x seventeen 

genre: marshmallow fluff, random au with each member

word count: 6283

summary: the thirteen ways seventeen shows how much they care about you

rated p for terrible puns and tastefully executed profanity

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Bad Day

I based this off Daniel Powters song Bad Day.

Warnings: fluffiness, crying, sadness.

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count:

My request are still open!!!


Tom had had some crazy past few weeks with training, flying and filming. He just needed some time to himself.
“I’m gonna head out and get some fresh air. Go for a run or something.” He told Harrison and Harry who were both distracted by their phones. “Whatever anyways guys.” He murmured to himself and tied his runners and left the house. Tom just went exploring. Walking up and down the streets to this new town he knew nothing about. He found a quiet spot under a tree where he knew he could hide from people so he could call you. He waited for your phone to ring. Whilst it rang, he kicked the leaves around. He sighed as it went to voicemail. Usually you would pick up your phone within four rings. He sighed. Why isn’t she picking up?

Tom tried again.


“(Y/N). Babe. It’s me.”

“Tom! Sorry I didn’t even take a look at the ID. Sorry. I just go home from walking Tessa. My phone literally just went flat.” You sigh into the phone as Tessa runs around your legs wanting some dry food after her walk.
“What’s up? How’s filming?”

“Oh no. It’s okay. I uhm, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Cool. What about?”

“Uhm, how was your day?” He knew your day was going to be a lot better than his so he decided to distract himself by asking you questions.

“Really good! I finished that uni assessment I was telling you about the other day. I found a new cake recipe, I tried that. I caught up with your mom the other day as well, and uhm, yeah just took Tessa for a walk and now she won’t leave me alone. You’re still cool with her sleeping in your bed yeah? Cause I swear, she doesn’t leave your spot. It’s like she knows your not here.”

That broke Toms heart.

“How was your day though babe, busy I assume?” You giggle grabbing from water from the fridge. Tom didn’t say a word. “Babe?” You pause. “Are you okay?” You could hear Toms voice crack on the other end of the line.

“I-I’m not. No.”

“Babe. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I uhm, I don’t wanna talk about it.” He muttered. You had seen numerous articles on twitter about Tom’s poor mental health and how he hadn’t been doing so well. You didn’t know if these were rumours or not.

“Oh. Okay. We can talk about something else…” you trail off starting to feel worry. “How is Harrison and Harry?”

“N-not bad.” He spoke and wipe a tear.

“Do you want me to do the talking?” You ask him sitting on the couch. You could tell he nodded because he didn’t say anything. “Alright. Well, I’ll tell you about the new recipe I found. It’s a lemon and strawberry cream cake. It’s really nice. I added some extra orange zest because-”

“I want you here with me.” Tom finally spoke up. You knew how hard this was for your relationship. You sigh heavily as Tessa jobs on the couch and burrows her head into your lap.
Meanwhile Tom was till under the tree, wiping flowing tears from his eyes. He genuinely missed you and you knew it was hard for him because he had barely any rest time. Sure Harrison and Harry were with him to keep him company, but he missed the rest of his family. “Forget I said anything.” He muttered.

“No babe. It’s okay.” You weakly smile. You had an idea. “Hey! I went to that coffee shop we had our first date in. Remember, when it rained and we both needed a hot chocolate to keep ourselves warm.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Yeah, well they sell these new orange and poppy seed muffins now, and they’re really nice. We should check it out again when you come back.” You tell him.

“I-I’d like that.” You smile sadly. You missed him so much too.

“I don’t know if me talking is helping or anything.”

“It is, believe me.”

“Is Harrison or Harry nearby?”

“Nah. I left them at the place. It’s starting to get dark though.” Tom spoke as the clouds above his head turned from white to grey. “Do you think you can join us soon?” He asked. Not in a needy way, more in a ‘I need to be comforted by you’ way.

“I can try.”

“Please, even if it’s just for a day.” He weakly asked.

“Of course I’ll try.” You tell him. “Are you willing to talk about your day yet?”

“It was just shit.” He grumbled.

“Yes Tom. Use your words.” You sarcastically spoke and he laughed.

“It was shit. Nothing went right today. You know, it was just one of those days.” Tom didn’t have many of ‘those days’ but when he did, they were pretty bad.
“Today felt like, I woke up and my passion for acting wasn’t there anymore. I just felt exhausted and tired. I couldn’t even get up to get to the gym.”

“Oh no.” You exaggerate.

“Yeah.” He whispered and a couple of rain drops begin to pitter patter on his jeans. “Babe, you should see how good this looks.” He said looking at his view of the rain against the road in front of him.

“Are you sitting in the rain?”

“It’s therapeutic.”

“I don’t want you to catch a cold though.” Secretly you did because that would mean he could take a couple of days off work and relax and catch up on sleep, because from his lack of Instagram posts and stories, you could tell he was exhausted.

“I won’t. I started taking those ginger and garlic shots in the morning to prevent me from catching a cold. I’ve been spending so much time in the water, I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick yet.”

“Same. Knock on wood though.” You laugh and Tom knocks the tree. Tessa started barking at something so you decided to end the call. “Babe. I’ll call you later okay?” You tell him.

“I love you (Y/N). Thank for you this”.

“No worries. I don’t think I did anything though.”

“Believe me. You did.”

“I love you too Tom.” You hang up put your phone down. Tom gets up from his spot and begins walking home in the light rain. Nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Dude, where have you been?” Harrison asked opening the door for him.

“I went for a walk.”

“You could’ve told us, we were worried sick.” Tom wanted to clap back with 'you could’ve call me’ but he felt composed after your chat so he have Harrison a fake smile just to leave the conversation.

“I’m going to have a shower to warm up.” Tom told him and left.


It had been about two weeks since that phone call, and Toms calls weren’t getting any better. He would call you every three days, and was really interested to chat. Sometimes he would tell you want he had for breakfast (which was good so you knew he was eating) and what he was now doing at the gym. He didn’t like disclosing his feelings much. Heck, you had only heard him cry twice before that phone call. You knew you needed to see him, but it was tough with college and work. You decide just to do it. Fly over for the weekend. Be back by Sunday night and go to university Monday morning. All you had was your handbag and a small suitcase with just the essentials. You makes your make up (which, let’s be real here takes up half of your bag) and some clothes for the weekend. You had never been to Canada before so you didn’t really know what to pack. Harrison had mentioned he had seen a bear, but you didn’t believe him because he didn’t take a photo, he refused to give you a reason why.
But here you were, waiting for Harrison to pick you up from the Canadian airport. Breathing heavily, purse and phone held tightly in your sweaty hand.

Harrison: I’ve parked in the blue car park, level six. Also, if you’re still in the airport can you get me one of those massive toberlones? Thanks.

You had actually already brought him one as a thank you for driving and picking you up. After a good ten minutes of walking you found the car park and Harrison was waiting by the elevator for you.

“Hey! So glad you could make it!” Harrison said hugging you and taking your bags to the car.

“It’s the least I can do. I need a break too. I have exams next month, so it’s either I come now or I just don’t.” You shrugged getting into the car and doing your seat belt.

“Tom is still on set with Harry. They’re gonna grab dinner on the way home.” Harrison informed me.

“Cool.” I simply said looking out of the window and looking at the wild and beautiful scenery that was Canada. It was like their place was literally in the middle of no where. Harrison helped take your bags inside and left then by the front door. It was around six ish when you go there. The boys were to be due back at 7.

“Is it cool if I take a quick shower? I feel like I’ve been on that plane forever.” You joke do Harrison.

“Go for it. Remember to turn the handles left, not right.” He pointed out. After the warm shower, you headed back out fulling clothed meeting Harrison in the kitchen. He was preparing a salad of some kind. I really call it a salad because it was only lettuce, tomato and cheese, but whatever.

“They’re gonna pick up some sausages and meat on the way. They’re like two minutes away.” Harrison said and I grabbed some cutlery from the draw and began to set up the table.

“Cool.” I said and nodded.

“So, what’s been up with you? Anything exciting?”

“Nah. Not much.” You tell him as you head a car pull up into the drive way. Your stomach began to form butterflies. “Just work and some assessments, like I said before.” You tell him.

You head Harry and Tom walk into the house. Tom stumbled over your luggage.
“Harrison. Move your shit out of the way. For god sakes-” Tom raised his voice angrily but stopped when he saw you. You stepped forward slowly to him so he could compose himself. He took a deep breath and you wrapped your arms around his neck and his around your waist and he just broke down in your arms. You just let him cry into your neck and shoulder.

“It’s okay baby. Let it out.” You whisper in his ear soothingly. His tears became sobs. You could tell he was embarrassed to cry in front of his best friend and brother but he didn’t care any more. “You’re alright baby.” You tell him and rub his back. “I’m here. You’re okay.” You tell him and let go of him, leaving your hands on his arms. “Oh look at you.” You smile weakly. His  face was extremely lifeless and pale. You take a look at his appearance. He was wearing a TSS blue cap, a burgundy tracksuit pants and a t-shirt. He looked like he had no strength, although his eyes were full of life. You smile at him calmly.

Your visit was definitely needed. “Wanna talk about it?” You ask him and he sniffles and rubs his nose with the sleeve of his jumper. He nods and you take his hand and lead him to the other room. He shakes his head.

“My room.” He muttered and you nod and follow him. He shuts the door and you sit on his bed. You longed for his lips, his taste, his feelings. But you knew right now wasn’t the time. You had built your rapport with Tom and you weren’t going to ruin that. You sit on his bed and he lies down next to you.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispers and you nodded.

“I’ve missed you too.” You tell him and he placed his head on your stomach, hugging your waist. You run your fingers though his hair.

“My life has been way off line. I’m literally falling to pieces everyday and I don’t know why. Someone times I leave set, and I don’t speak to anyone. I probably sound like the biggest dick on set. God they must hate me.”

“Babe, your work is stressful. Everything is catching up to you at once. You need some sleep. Those bags under your eyes aren’t Gucci.” You tell him and he cracks a smile at your poor joke. It was a genuine smile. Something you hadn’t seen in a while. The smiles and grins in the Instagram lives you knew were fake. “You’ve just had a couple of bad days, that’s all.” You siencerily say.

“How long are you staying here for?” He asks sitting up looking at you.

“Until Sunday night.” You tell him. He nods.

“Thank you for coming darling.“ 

"Of course baby.” You tell him. He was slowly becoming his normal self. He caresses your hair and follows down to your arm.

“Did you cut your hair?”



“I think it was last week. Yeah, last Thursday or something.” You tell him.

“I like it like that. It suits you.” He smiled and you grin. “I was meant to say that when I first saw you, but I uhm, I don’t know what got into me.” He said bowing his said.

“Hey, you can have a couple of bad days, you’re a normal person. Normal people have bad days. You’re no superhero.” You giggle and he raises an eyebrow.


“Tom.” You say in a serious tone but couldn’t help but smile.

“God I love you so much.” He whispers.

“I love you too.” You said back and share a sweet and short kiss before there’s a knock at the door.

“We might save the meat and things for tomorrow night. Haz and I feel like chicken instead. You guys are willing to join us if you want, or if you guys want some space, to, you know.”

“Thank anyways Harry. But we’ll probably just get some rest.” You tell Harry before it gets awkward and he leaves shutting the door. Tom lies back down and take his cap off and throws it somewhere in his room. He puts his hands behind his next. You place your head in tween his bicep and neck and cuddle into his side. It only took you a couple of minutes of your eyes bing shut for you to actually fall asleep. Before falling into a deep slumber you here six words leave Toms mouth.

“How did I get so lucky?”

Poetry Nights | Chapter 1: In which an art student meets a poet

Pairing: John/Paul

Rating: PG-13

Set in: Modern AU

Summary: 21-year-old Paul McCartney, who has recovered from a breakdown due to stress and his mother’s unexpected death, has recently moved to London where he now rents a cheap flat with his friend George. Having needed to give up his medicine studies, he has decided to start over and go to art college instead where he meets the rude and troublesome John Lennon, a young poet, who, much to Paul’s dismay, also happens to be his neighbour.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles and this is fictional. I do not make money off this.

Author’s note: First part of my entry for the McLennon Big Bang! It’s kind of late, but well… it’s here. Before anyone’s going to ask, I’ll be posting A&O every Monday as well, so don’t worry. There is no fixed schedule for this one. I’ll just post a chapter whenever it’s finished. I’m probably not going to be able to finish this on time (there will be seven chapter), but we’ll deal with that when we come it. Also, look at this gorgeous moodboard @fabpaul made for this fic! 

Author’s note 2: It’s been a while since I lasted posted something, and I’m really nervous about this. I hope you guys are going to like this. Like I said, there are going to be 7 chapter in total. Please let me know what you think! You can also read it on AO3.

Although he had not initially intended to spend his first weeks as an art student at the library, it was where he most often found himself after his classes and during his free mornings and afternoons. Because the semester had only just started, the library was practically empty most of the time, save for the occasional over-enthusiastic, over-ambitious student who was already cramming for tests that were still weeks if not months away, and writing essays about topics that had not even been properly discussed yet in class, sitting with their noses buried in books with such flimsy paper, that it looked like it would tear if handled in any way but with the utmost care. There was something “uncool about spending all your days at the university library, making time-tables, revising notes, studying texts, writing essays, and cramming for exams, that made most people want to stay away from such places as much as possible, not wanting to be considered “one of those people”. Paul would have done the same, that is, if he had cared at all about what was and was not considered “cool”, which obviously he didn’t. Not one bit. At all.

Truth be told, he enjoyed the library. It was quiet, peaceful, filled up to the ceiling with books containing fascinating information about curious topics and ideas he did not yet know about, there was free Wi-Fi, plenty of spots to plug in your phone or computer when needed, and, most importantly, no one to bother you by asking annoying questions or playing Guitar Hero at an ungodly volume, while stuffing their face full with potato crisps and diet coke, wearing nothing but a pair of plain, light blue boxers that looked suspiciously similar to a pair you owned yourself and would burn the next time you saw them. On the second floor they had opened a coffee corner where you could grab a cup of tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, along with some (cheap!) sandwiches, cookies, and other snacks (they even had vegan options), of which Paul took full advantage. They had also put down a couple of old battered couches for people to sit on, and honestly Paul could not imagine why anyone would want to spend their days anywhere else, except when they did have normal roommates with at least a sense of common decency.

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Chapter 16 (Behind the Walls)

Behind the Walls Masterlist

Pairing: Professor!Bucky X Reader

Words: 2,185

Warnings: Mentions of abuse. (If you don’t want to read it, I advise you go away.)

Summary: You are currently getting your PhD in Art History, your dissertation being about The Power of Nudity in Art. Your advisor recommends you switch from being her TA to another professor because she feels her health is declining and wants you to get the best help/advice from someone new. She recommends Dr. James Barnes and believes he will be of great help to you. Things don’t turn out as you plan.

A/N: So I know I said that I will be updating regularly but clearly I didn’t. I had a lot of personal stuff that happened in the past week alone that prevented me from doing so and I apologize for that. Thanks for sticking around and thanks for the support that you gave me. Hopefully this is to your liking.

Tagging:  @clairefxkingtemple​​ @confidentrose​​ @vashanatasha​​ @your-puddin​​ @shamvictoria11​​ @gatorgal94​​ @dreeams-unwind​​ @sandycoelho​​ @bellejeunefillesansmerci@thetruthin@mizzzpink@kashicanhaz@potteryimagines@fantasticimpaladoctor@gashps@nbbuck@maece-rette@harleyscheekheart @pentaholicemmi417 @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @buckyshattergirl @mo320 

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The Price of Apples in Atlanta

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Reylo

Prompt: meeting in prison au

Notes: I’ve once again exercised my utter inability to write drabbles. ;) Thank you @lunaplath​ for requesting this one! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write it for you, but this story grew, changed, and took me for a ride in the best possible way.

A disclaimer: I am not particularly educated on conditions in jail. This is in no way meant to be an accurate portrayal of life in jail, although I do hope that I correctly conveyed the nastiness of criminalizing poverty in the U.S. Rey’s year-long sentence for shoplifting is based on a real case, in which a homeless man named Tom Barrett was sentenced similarly for shoplifting a beer from a convenience store. Here’s a link to an NPR article about it, which I encourage y’all to check out if you’re interested in learning more.



It isn’t technically a crime to be poor in the Great State of Georgia. Except, Rey has been homeless ever since she ran away from her last foster family, and it turns out that six shoplifting charges in four months are enough to piss off the local cops. She goes to jail for stealing two apples, valued at $1.09, plus tax. Rey might be entitled to a public defender, but it still costs fifty dollars to fill out the necessary applications, and she doesn’t have it. So she represents herself and pleads no contest.

Judge Dickinson sentences her to a year of probation. If she had the money to pay for an ankle monitor, Rey could’ve spent those twelve months on the street, free, if tagged and tracked. But she didn’t have chump change for apples, or fifty bucks for a lawyer, and she doesn’t have the money to pay for an ankle bracelet either. So here she is, stranded at Dekalb County Jail. Her home for the next twelve months.

Rey has learned two things from this: red apples aren’t worth doing time, no matter how hungry you are; and, in practice, it’s a crime to be poor in the Great State of Georgia.



Ben has to complete two hundred service hours every year to keep his fellowship. It’s a responsibility he’s used to by now, but the second semester of junior year is kicking his ass. He’s procrastinated himself into a corner, still seventy-one hours short of his requirements with only six weeks left until final exams. He’s sick of volunteering at warming shelters and slinging soup to homeless folks at the Mission. It’s important work, as his mother would say, and Ben agrees, but he’s also exhausted, busy, and worst of all, bored–a combination that sends his mood swinging wildly without fail.

Ben calls his mom, because if there’s any problem she can’t fix, he’s yet to see it.

“I’m behind on my service hours, and if I have to build one more sustainable house I’m gonna lose my shit,” he says. “Please tell me there’s something interesting you can get me plugged into.”

She sighs. “If you’d focused on your hours at the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t be in this boat right now. What have I told you about using your time wisely?”

Ben grabs his stress ball, considers throwing it, and squeezes it instead. “I know that, Mama, but I called for advice, not a slap on the wrist. Can you help me or not?”

He can feel his mother’s sharp disapproval through the crackling silence. She says, “I can, but I won’t if you keep talking to me like that.”

He throws the stress ball. It knocks Armitage’s ugly, industrial lamp off of his bedside table. The thing must not be as durable as it looks, because its neck snaps from the base.

Ben holds the phone away from his face so he can cuss without his mother hearing. “Goddamn motherfucking piece of shit–”

“Ben? What was that crash?”

He bites his knuckles until the sting of breaking skin grounds him, then pulls the phone closer to say, “Sorry. I knocked over my roommate’s lamp. Not on purpose.”

His mother hums, sounding half sympathetic, half disbelieving. “Tell me the truth: are you taking your meds?”

Here we go again, Ben thinks, but all he says is, “Yes.”

All of them?”

“Yes, all of them,” Ben lies.

“I understand how hard this is, but it’s important that you–”

“That Seroquel knocks me out for twelve hours every night, and I can’t get up the next day,” he says. “I missed three of my morning classes last month because I slept through my alarms. How the fuck am I supposed to ace English 301 and squeeze in seventy service hours if I can’t stay awake?”

“Well it sounds like you need to schedule an appointment with your psychiatrist.”

“I will,” Ben says. “Swear to God. As soon as this semester is over.”

His mother’s voice takes a turn from concerned to suspicious when she asks, “Are you saying that because you’re too busy, or because you’re hoping to sail through your exams on a manic phase again?”

She’s not wrong, but this isn’t an argument that he’s willing to have right now. “I don’t have time for the third degree. Email me some service prospects, or don’t. I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t be like that,” his mother says. “I have a contact at the Dekalb County Jail who’s been looking for volunteer tutors. I’ll pass your name along to him.”

The anger goes out of him as suddenly as it came. He says, “Thanks, Mama. I’m–I’ll do better.”

“I know,” she says gently. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

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group therapy au (part three)

read part one - part two (and thanks to @broship-addict for (in)directly inspiring parts of this/encouraging me to continue!)(warning for a kiss that is not clearly consensual but actually is, if that makes sense?) - or read it all on ao3

After that, Neil’s life became even less exciting. Group therapy hadn’t particularly added any excitement to his day, but the promise of riding with Andrew and getting to ask him something was at least something to chew on when he was bored in class.

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Caffeine Overdose

Apparently I wrote this story a little while ago when I was drunk like a fish and I only just found it and edited it today (don’t even recall writing it, that’s how drunk I was, I guess). It’s absolute rubbish and I’m not too sure why I’m even posting it, but I figure it’s okay to post rubbish every now and again because I write for me and someone out there probably thinks this isn’t rubbish and is the best thing they’ve ever read, I hope. Enjoy.

“Maybe I can ask someone to cover the rest of my shift this afternoon,” Owen suggested as Amelia paced the room, occasionally looking at the scans illuminated on the board in front of her.

“No, I’ll figure it out in a few minutes,” she assured him, biting her bottom lip and folding her arms, “Then I’ll release Ryan and the three demons from day care and we can go home.”

“The demons have names,” he reminded her, leaning against a nearby table. She looked blankly back at him before turning back to her scans. Owen watched her pick up a cup of coffee and take a big gulp out of it. There were two other empty cups next to the one she was currently drinking from.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked her, sticking his hands in his lab coat pockets.


“Sleep, Amelia,” he repeated, standing straight and walking towards her, “When was the last time you had some of that?”

“I’m not tired,” she dismissed, finishing her third cup of coffee, “It’s 9 in the morning on a wonderful Wednesday. Why would I be tired?”

“Because you’ve been working nonstop since Monday night,” Owen finished, grabbing her waist and spinning her around to face him, “Plus, it’s 3:30PM.”

Flabbergasted, Amelia gave him a confused look, “3:30PM…?”

“How long have you been in this X-Ray room?”

“Since my last surgery,” she recalled, “Which was a few hours ago, so not that long.”

“Your last surgery was on Tuesday night,” he reminded her, “A lot more than a few hours.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” she quipped, shrugging her shoulders.

“I’ll call April and see if she can cover for me,” Owen said. He could see she was a mess because of this case. He knew that she needed to come up with a plan of action for the tumour before it was too late for them to operate, but there was no way she could do that in her state.

“Owen, I’m fine,” she said, “I’ll pick up the money suckers and take them home. Read those stories and then we’ll switch off when you come home and everything will be alright.”

“Why don’t you ask for Derek’s help?” he tried, rubbing the sides of her arms as he stared lovingly down at her, “Or better yet, why don’t you let him take the case so you can get some rest and spend some time with the kids?”

“What, you think I can’t do it?” she asked, “That I need my brother to save me or something because I’m drowning?” With all the caffeine she’d inhaled and the lack of sleep, Amelia had almost tripped off on him.

“No, it’s not that,” Owen quickly said, trying to clean up the mess he made before it was too late.

She rolled her eyes at him and pulled away from his embrace, “I don’t need anyone’s help. I can do my job and take care of my children perfectly fine without your help. I’m fine.” Owen sighed, defeated; there was no changing her mind.

When Owen entered the house at 2 in the morning, it was a loud, raging, yelling competition.

“Ry, what’s going on?” he asked when he entered the living room. The poor boy looked tired beyond comprehension.

“Mom can’t get the twins to shut up,” Ryan explained, handing Rosie a letter block, “Specifically Isabella.” The little girl squeezed her tiny 1 year old fingers around the block and made a poor attempt to throw it back at him.

“Why is she yelling then?” Owen asked as he set down his briefcase and loosened his tie. He walked over and picked Rosie up, dismissing Ryan of his brotherly duties.

“I think she thinks it’ll make her stop crying, I don’t know. I’m gonna try to sleep, if that’s possible.” And with that, the eldest got up and murmured a good night before retiring to his bedroom.

“Amelia?” Owen cautiously called out as he entered the kitchen. Finn was in his carrier, fast asleep while Isabella fought and screamed in Amelia’s arms while pulling at her hair. However, the second Isabella saw her father, her cries stopped and she began reaching out towards him.

“It’s like she doesn’t know who I am,” Amelia complained as they switched babies.

“Well, you’re barely home anymore, so I don’t blame her for being confused,” he commented.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she angrily accused, shooting daggers at her partner.

“I’m not trying to criticise you…”

“Well, it sounds like that,” she said, cutting him off.

“I’m not trying to start a fight,” Owen said as she picked up her handbag and car keys from the kitchen table, “Amelia, can we please just talk for a few minutes before you leave? I’m worried about you.”

She pushed the baby into his free hand and told him, “I’m already late for my shift.”

“Dr. Hunt, a word,” Callie called Owen the second he entered the ER.

“What’s up?” the red head asked as he came closer.

“Your crazy wife, that’s what,” she said with an eye roll, “She’s logged 62 hours in the last three days. She’s been drinking coffee by the gallon, she’s jittery, restless and nervous and she can’t keep still. She keeps talking about this big thing she has, with some guy named Gerard, that’s going to be the future of neurology and the understanding of tumours. Plus, she just yelled at me for no reason when she asked me for a consult on her dumb tumour patient!”

“I can’t scold her for yelling at you, Callie,” he said with disinterest in his voice. He didn’t care who Gerard was or what breakthrough she had in the understanding of tumours. After what happened earlier that morning, he was absolutely done trying to take care of his ‘crazy’ wife.

“She needs to take a nap,” she continued, snoopy as ever, “And have sex, because she’s way too wound up. When was the last time you two had sex?”

“I’ll go check on her,” Owen assured her, giving Callie a pat on the shoulder.

“Amelia?” Owen asked, turning on the light. Someone groaned. There were coffee cups everywhere. They were on the table, on the floor, mixed in with x-rays; it was a mess. He counted about 8 coffee cups before he heard soft mumbling coming from somewhere in the room.

“Who turned on the light?” the voice asked. Owen followed the sound and found Amelia huddled behind the sofa, her hands wrapping tightly around her legs.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he stooped down to her level, “Amelia?”

“Only Derek calls me Amelia,” she said in a spaced out tone, “You will refer to me as Dr. Shepherd the seventh, heiress to the throne of the Shepherds.”

“Amelia, wake up,” Owen said forcefully, snapping his fingers in her face. She opened her eyes and they were red to the point where they could be considered bloody. She was a mess.

“I was never asleep,” she said, “Now turn back off the lights. I can only see my friend in the dark.”

“Okay, get up,” he stood and pulled her to her feet.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, punching him in his chest, “I don’t know you! Leave me alone!”

“Enough of the drama.”

“Help!” she screamed as he fought in his arms, “I’ll yell rape if you don’t stop touching me.”

“Hey, hey!” he said, “Amelia, it’s me, Owen.” She stopping fighting his grip for a second and squinted at him.

“Owen?” she asked. He sighed in relief and smiled. “Owen, the one who thinks I’m a crazy doctor and a terrible mother?”

“Yes, me Amelia,” he surrendered, knowing that logic wouldn’t work in this situation, “How much coffee did you drink?”

“Today or since Monday?” she asked, “Because, if it’s today, then I only had four cups, but if it’s since Monday, then I only had 15-20 cups, which isn’t so bad if you factor in the amount of coffee they actually put in your cup because that thing tastes like water to me so they couldn’t be using that much, I mean many, coffee beans to make my coffee.”

“What?” Owen queried, missing half of what she said because of how fast she said it.

“I figured out a treatment plan for my patient,” she continued, as if he didn’t exist, “It’s a lot simpler than I thought, actually. Here I was, looking for surgical options when there was a better solution for his problem.” She clasped her hands together in excitement. He could tell that she was completely unaware that her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

“And what’s that?” he wondered. As she spoke, he subtly guided her out of the room and towards the ER, hoping they could get her hooked up to an IV to dilute all the coffee she’d drank.

“A new medical compound I created and named the amicus compound,” she mused, “Named after me, clearly. It solves all tumour related problems. The only downside is that it has to be inserted anally. Gerard helped me come up with it.”

“Gerard?” They entered the elevator; she was oblivious to their surroundings.

“Yes, the one you made run away when you turned on the lights,” she confirmed, “He’s a trauma surgeon with red hair and blue eyes. He’s super tall and has a large penis and I’ve been having an affair with him, so I’m leaving you and the kids for him.”

“Gerard kind of sounds like me,” Owen joked.

Amelia turned towards him and looked him dead in the eye, “My Gerard is not an Owen, silly. I know the difference.” The elevator dinged and scared her as they reached the ground floor, the noise intensified by her caffeine overdose.

“This isn’t the x-ray room,” she realised, looking suspiciously around, “Gerard, where are we?”

“This is the coffee shop, Amelia,” he lied as he guided her to a private exam room. He asked a nursed to bring him an IV kit. When the nurse came in the room with the kit a few minutes later, Owen was fighting to keep her still.

“Dr. Hunt, should I page someone to help you?” the nurse asked. He nodded and tried to calm Amelia down, but nothing would work. Her hallucination of him was hell bent on believing that he was trying to sexually assault her and he could only imagine how the staff personnel outside the room felt when they heard her yelling phrases like “leave me alone, you old man” and “Gerard would never do this to me”. With the help of Callie and Meredith, they managed to get the IV in and, minutes later, she’d fallen asleep.

After approximately 24 hours of unconsciousness, she finally came around.

“Gerard?” Amelia laughed as she ate from a cup of jello, “I think I remember that, although I don’t recall coming up with a compound called amicus.”

“You also said that you were cheating on me with him,” Owen teased as he sat at the side of her hospital bed, “Claimed that he had red hair, blue eyes and a large penis.” Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

“I am so sorry,” she admitted, dropping her eyes to her jello cup, “I just wanted to get rid of that tumour so badly, and then Derek ended up taking it anyway. I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t push yourself so hard next time,” he gently scolded, “Izzie is going to forget she has a mother if you keep coming home so late all the time.”

“I hope she does,” Amelia said, “Otherwise my plan to leave you for Gerard won’t work out as smoothly as I want it to.”

“That’s not funny, Amelia Shepherd,” Owen said seriously, “Where did you even get that name from?”

'I didn't mean it'

requested by anonymous

summary: I need to finish school, Michael doesn’t quite seem to grasp the concept that my exams are important

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Mr Hemmings (part 14)

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Y/N’s pov

Monday morning soon came around too fast for my liking. I wasn’t ready to face today, I hadn’t talked to Mr Hemmings for the rest of the weekend which I was kind of alright about, I have no idea how he is going to react about what I have to say. from what I’ve learnt over the past few weeks.

I managed to avoid my parents this morning, I didn’t think they were even home so it didn’t matter anyway, I had to do my paper round this morning by foot as my bike chain is fully broken, but hopefully I won’t be late because I’m up a little bit earlier today.

And if I’m on time it means Luke won’t have to keep me behind which means avoiding talking to him.

Sounds like a good plan to me.

After I had finished my paper round I quickly went back home to grab my school bag and books and walked quickly to school making it on time for once. I smiled happily to myself and walked to maths class for once not in a rush.

A few people were already siting in their seats talking to their friends, I could feel Luke’s eyes on me but only lifted my head slightly to look at him but not meeting his eyes and I could tell it frustrated him.

I didn’t meet his eyes for the rest of the lesson and actually got some work done because I understood all about different types of graphs.

After 1 hour of the lesson Luke have is a 5 minutes break and told people they could leave the class room but had to be back in time for our next lesson. Most students rushed out of the door to talk to their friends where no one would listen. Only a few people actually stayed in the class room, that being me, Harry, a boy called Logan and two of his friends and two girls who I didn’t know who say at the back of the class room whispering to each other.

Harry got up and occupied the seat next to me giving me one of his warm smiles that I loved.

“Hey” I said

“Well hello there y/n” he chuckled at his own words making me laugh.

“How was your weekend?” I asked knowing that he went to his uncles family BBQ.

“Boring like I told you it would be. I was surrounded by old people who kept telling me how much I had grown and that I should be studying for exams ugh. what about you? how was yours?” he asked

“Incredibly in eventful” I sighed

“Well that sucks.” he said sympathetically.

We were interrupted as Luke ‘Mr Hemmings’ came over to us.

“How are you finding this y/n? do you understand?” he asked taking my work book and looking at it.

“Uh yeah, for once I actually get it’ I said awkwardly.

"Good, you seem to have done all the questions right.” he said in a non patronising way.

“Yeah….” I said. God this was awkward.

“Could stay behind after class please. I need to rearrange tutoring days” he said looking at me, I met his eyes for the first time and hoped they showed him how much I really didn’t want to. But I couldn’t say no when Harry was right beside me because that would look suspicious as I’m not the type of person to be rude to a teacher.

God dammit Luke.

“Uh yeah okay” I mumbled

“Great” he said smiling brightly causing Both his dimples to pop out. I felt the urge to poke them a sit would look really weird to everyone else. Instead I just glared at him hoping he would get the message that I was pissed at him.

People were starting to come back into the classroom as Luke walked back to his desk at the front.

Harry flicked my head before getting up and moving back to his seat as I looked at him weirdly. He was such a dork.

As People walked in some of them were carrying snacks and water bottles and even cups of take out coffee from the machines all around school.

As I bent down to pull my bag under my chair a burning sensation scolded my lap and arms. I let out a scream at the unexpected stinging of it on my skin, whatever it was, it was really really hot.

“I’m so sorry” a voice said from above me.

I lifted my head to meet the smirk of Courtney and a few of her friends. She had obviously not done it by accident due to her proud smile. Her coffee cup now empty was on the floor beside my stuff. The coffee was all over my work and me and it was really burning.

I tried to hold my breath from crying out, my arms were bright red and the coffee was still hot.

“Courtney sit down. y/n come with me” he said rushing over to me. “Harry, can bring her stuff please” Luke asked and Harry immediately got up while Luke took my arm carefully.

“Are you okay?” he asked once we got outside of the classroom.

“It really burns” I said whimpering.

“Shit. we need to get you out of those clothes, I’ll take you to the nurse. Oh God I’m sorry she did that”

“It wasn’t an accident was it?” he asked and I shook my head sadly.

“She has it in for me” I sighed.

Luke took me to the nurse and left me in there while Harry put my stuff next to me. Harry gave me a quick kiss on the forehead saying he would hug me but he didn’t want coffee on him.

The nurse helped me get out of my scolding hot clothes immediately and filled a bowl up with cold water before helping me dab cold flannels against my skin helping me cool it down so it would stop burning.

I spent over an hour in the room not wanting to leave partly due to my skin itching really badly now and also the embarrassment. Especially as its break time now and there’s no doubt word would have gotten around.

Someone knocked on the door and the nurse went to answer shielding me from the person as I was only in my bra and knickers. Awkward.

I recognised Luke’s voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Seconds later the door shut and the nurse came back holding a bag.

“Mr Hemmings found some clothes for you to wear” she said handing me the bag. “Will you be okay?” she asked

I nodded thanking her as she left the room to give me some privacy.

I opened the bag realising that these clothes weren’t from lost property or anything, but it consisted of a pair of my black leggings and an oversized flannel which smelled like Luke so it was obviously his. I was truly grateful but had no idea how he got my leggings. I changed into them thankful that they weren’t drenched in scolding hot coffee like my previous ones.

Taking a deep breath I left the nurses room, my cheeks flushed as people looked at me no doubt knowing what happened. I decided I didn’t want to stay out here for break so just decided to go to Luke’s room and hide in there, I didn’t care if I said I was going to ignore him, maybe I might have changed my mind after today. He showed me signs of caring. if he didn’t care he wouldn’t have helped me.

I knocked on his door quietly before entering, he had his face in his hands but looked up when he saw me. he smiled at me slightly as i made my way over to him.

“I hope you don’t mind, Michael dropped off the clothes he could only find a pair of your leggings in my room” he said and I realised he must have phoned Michael to bring some for me.

“Thank you” I said and it was silent for a minute where we just looked at each other.

“I’m sorry” I said

“Why are you sorry? he asked confused

"For ignoring you this morning” I mumbled

“Oh so that’s why you wouldn’t look at me” he said chuckling “well I’m sorry too” he said

“What for?” I asked

“For leaving you the other day. it was a horrible thing to and I’m sorry but I just needed time to think.” he said

“S'okay” I said forgiving him.

“Come here” he said and I walked over to him wrapping my arms round his neck and he wrapped his around my waist lifting me into his lap in a hug.

“Everyone outsides laughing at me” I mumbled and I felt him hug me tighter.

“Don’t worry Courtney will get what she deserves” he told me darkly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well I know it wasn’t an accident so I gave her a months detention.” he smirked

“So you have to spend a whole month with her?” I asked confused at why he would want to do that.

“Oh no,” he said “she has to spend it with Mr Tate ” he said evilly making me laugh. Mr Tate was the PE teacher that nobody liked. He was strict and smelt really bad and always had greasy hair it was gross.

“That’s mean” I laughed “but yeah she deserves that”

“You bet she does it took me all of second lesson to think of it” he said looking proud of himself. “Oh and I could tell Harry was plotting something to do back as he glared at her the whole lesson.

"Oh god i would love to see that” I said shaking my head at the thought.

“Anyway, do you want to come round tonight and we can do some maths and then watch a film and cuddle? you haven’t got work today have you?”

“Nope, sounds perfect” I smiled kissing him gently on the lips.

Little did I know that somebody was looking in on us through the small window in the door.

A/N: Dun dun Dunn sorry it’s been so long since i’ve updated a lot of shits gone down this past month but hopefully i’m back for good. xx

Back from hiatus.

First of all, thank you so, so, so, SO much for all the sweet messages + replies you guys have left me during my break from tumblr, they honestly meant the world to me, I will get back to them as soon as I can, promised! (you are the sweetest people in the world, I mean it)

I’m doing relatively okay, you don’t have to worry about me, I promise I won’t do anything I’ll regret later, including deleting my blog or anything like that.

Explanation as to why exactly I went on a hiatus under the read more cut.

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