A/N: Hi guys! This one isn't exactly a Newt imagine, but I just really liked this one... So please enjoy!
Disclaimer:None if these awesome fanfics/imagines are mine.
>>>
"(Y/n) can you open this?" Chuck walks up holding a jar of pre-peeled green beans. Its your job to work in the kitchen and Chuck wanted to try it out so today you're showing him the ropes.
You groan, grabbing the jar. How hard can it be to open one? You give it a go, twisting it to the left.
It doesn't budge.
You try again with a little more force.
Still doesn't move.
"Uhh," You moan in frustration.
"I can ask Frypan," Chuck giggles, grabbing the jar from your hand.
"No!" You snap, pulling it away. "I can do it," You stand up straighter and pull on it again to no avail.
"No really I can go ask-"
"Oh, so what you think girls are weak?! Is that what your trying to say!? That we shouldn't even be opening jars we should let the 'men' handle it. Huh!?" You throw up quotations around men as you shout at chuck. He's wide eyed and quiet.
Let's just say it was that time of the month again. And unexplainable outbreaks of rage is how you cope with it.
"Woah what's going on?" Frypan walks out from the pantry. Hands starched white from handling the flour.
"(Y/n) can't get the jar open, and is screaming at me because of how she thinks I think woman are weak and can't do anything for themselves... which is not true" Chuck rambles quietly on the verge of tears.
"(Y/n)" Frypan lets out a slight laugh. "If you can't open it, it's ok. Doesn't mean you have to go all crazy psycho chick on Chuck." He lays a hand on your shoulder.
You shake it off, blood boiling in your veins.
"I. AM. NOT. PYSCHO! And I can open this jar!" Your voice rises after each word, rising into a yell at the end.
You send the jar crashing to the floor in utter frustration. The glass shatters, sending green little orbs rolling across the floor. Some getting caught on the boys shoes.
You look up at them.
They're quiet.
"(Y/n) are you ok?" Frypan asks you carefully. Treating you as if a you were a rabid animal ready to strike at any second.
"No I am not ok!" You shouted, storming out of the kitchen.
Fuming, you scan the Glade for a tree to sit by and cool down.
Uh, your cramps become unbearable. Twisting and knotting, tearing away at your abdomen as you take steps.
You clutch your stomach hunching over. You place your hand on the nearby tree for support.
"(Y/n) are you alright?" You turn your head slightly. A sweaty concerned Minho comes into view. He probably just finished his run.
"Yeah-" a moan of pain escapes your lips cutting yourself off. What such a great liar you are. You drop to your knees.
"Woah! Uh, JEFF! CLINT!" Minho shouts.
"It's ok (y/n), I've got you." He tries to help you sit upright. You swat his hands away.
"Relax. I'm just..." You trail off, not quite sure how to say you're bleeding from your uterus.
