#anyways dilemma is my new screaming in the car song <3

[sageblogsthings]

feeling sooo normal about the new album (is actively frothing at the mouth and will listen to nothing else for at least two weeks)

#sorry for the shitty album crop i used snapchat lmao #anyways dilemma is my new screaming in the car song <3 #for the 15 min it takes to drive to work i am the best metal singer in the world actually (sounds like a prepubescent smoker cat) #green day #saviors #sage rambles

[quinnybee-writes]

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: T+

Part: 7/?

Story Summary: A chance encounter between a villain and vigilante leads to an unwise deal made between unlikely allies; an unwise deal made between unlikely allies ends in a final stand neither would have ever dared to take on alone. Together, though, they just might have a fighting chance.

Part 7 Summary: Hizashi takes the night off to spend time with some new faces and some old mistakes.

Part 1 on  Tumblr / AO3

Part 2 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 3 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 4 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 5 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 6 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 7 on AO3

“Go-od morning, caller, what can I do for you at this early, early hour?”

It was almost three AM and his midnight coffee was wearing off fast, but Hizashi tried to keep the pep up in his voice for all the late shift workers, insomniacs, and other assorted night owls who tuned in and kept his ratings up.

“Heyo!” Hizashi held back a groan and he recognized Haru’s voice on the other end of the line. “I was hoping maybe I could pick your brain about a problem I’ve been having with a certain brother of mine.”

“I usually don’t give out advice until Friday night’s show,” Hizashi said with a meaningful sharpness, “but I’ll give it a whirl. What’s up?”

“I need some advice on how to get my brother to stop being such a mope-ass and come shittalk his ex over drinks,” Haru said brightly.

Hizashi pursed his lips, rolling his eyes. “Sounds like a real dilemma,” he intoned. “Are you sure he’s moping, or is he maybe just not interested in going out?”

“You don’t know my brother,” Haru replied, her grin obvious in her voice. Hizashi scoffed, clapping a hand over his mouth just in time to make it sound like a blip of static. “He’s usually the first one in line to get white girl schwasted and sing karaoke to get over some dipshit he’s dated, but so far every time I’ve told him he should come out with me and some friends from work he keeps ghosting me.” She paused, then added, “And it was kind of my fault he went out with this particular dipshit, so it’s on me to make up for encouraging bad life choices, y’know?”

“By encouraging other bad life choices?” Hizashi asked, raising an eyebrow even though she couldn’t see.

“By dragging him out of his rut before he fossilizes,” Haru corrected.

Hizashi rolled his eyes, grinning in spite of himself. “I mean, it sounds to me like you have the right idea. Maybe try asking one more time,” he said.

“I dunno, he can be pretty stubborn,” Haru said, fully teasing now.

“Thirteenth time’s the charm, right? The worst he can do is say no,” Hizashi said, texting Okay, okay, message received. Where and when? to Haru as he spoke.

“We’ll see. Thanks, dude. Hey, while I’ve got you on the line, can I make a quick song request?”

“Lay it on me.”

“‘Heroes’, by Bowie,” Haru said, her voice turning a little soft as she said it. Hizashi smiled to himself.

“A favorite of his?” he said.

“Yeah. I think if he’s listening it might cheer him up.”

“Sure thing, caller. I wouldn’t worry about things too much. Sounds like you know your brother pretty well.”

The family joke was that Haruko and Hizashi were actually twins, he’d just gotten lost and showed up three years late. It might as well have been true; both were tall and quick like their father and had their mother’s blond hair and sharp tongue. Haru loved Hinako with all the closeness and affection you had for someone you had shared a uterus with, but there was no denying Hizashi had been her best friend from birth. They’d been attached at the hip basically from the moment toddler Haru had been told she had a new baby brother on the way. So when Hizashi called her in a breathless whirl to say his results letter from UA High had come in the mail, Haru had dropped everything and rushed home.

Hizashi was just about the smartest person Haru had ever met, with amazing recall for the tiniest details and a near-infinite energy for learning new things. Applying that energy, however, had been his downfall from the off; all the brains and ambition in the world didn’t make up for his attention issues, Quirk mishaps, and inability to connect socially with his classmates. He’d spent most of upper elementary school floundering academically, skating by at the bare minimum level to pass in no particular direction.

Visiting Haru at UA during her first year culture festival, however, had been a revelation for him. Seeing the school and all it had to offer someone with a powerful Quirk and a brilliant mind had finally been a tangible goal Hizashi could focus on. He’d immediately buckled down, applying himself to his schoolwork in a way Haru had never seen from him before and he never looked back. He’d blazed through middle school at the top of his class, easily securing his place in the UA entrance exam. No one had any doubts he had blown the written exam out of the water, but it was the practical application exam that really counted when you wanted to be a hero.

And so now here the two of them were, sitting on Hizashi’s bedroom floor with the unopened results envelope between them. Hizashi was vibrating in place, his leg thumping under him and making the rest of him shake. Haru kept looking from him to the envelope and back again, the palpable waves of excitement and nerves rolling off of him making her just as keyed up as he was.

“Want me to do it?” Haru asked, half-teasing.

Hizashi shook his head, still bouncing. “I got it, I just…” he trailed off, the first spots of self-doubt starting to creep in around the edges of his mood. Haru decided to cut that off at the pass, picking the envelope up by one end and holding the other out to Hizashi like it was a wishbone.

“Count of three,” she said. Hizashi nodded, taking his end in both trembling hands. “Okay. One--”

There was a sharp sound of ripping paper as Hizashi jumped the gun and pulled back his end. A single sheet of UA letterhead stationery dropped onto the floor. Haru’s spirit sank as she thought of the thick sheaf of paperwork and the holo-disc acceptance message that had come for her three years ago. Her hope dwindled down to embers as Hizashi shook the letter open. His anxious excitement went out like a snuffed candle, expression falling from eager anticipation to confusion to a blank emptiness as his eyes scanned down the page. His hands were shaking again, clenched around the edges of the paper. His breathing sharpened suddenly into the quick, barking wheezes that usually heralded an asthma attack.

“Hizashi?” Haru asked tentatively, reaching out toward him. Hizashi pulled away violently, snapping to his feet. He looked down at her, breath hissing between clenched teeth. His eyes were wild and unfocused; he looked very young and very lost. “Oh god, Zash,” Haru breathed.

Before she could do anything else, Hizashi bolted from the room and out of the apartment at a breakneck sprint. Haru followed after him as fast as she could, calling after him as she heard him thundering down the building’s staircase. She finally caught him up to him as they both exploded out the building’s side door and onto the street. Hizashi staggered a few steps, barely getting his feet under himself before the next step came. He crumpled forward, back arched into a hard C shape and his shoulders heaving. Haru’s eyes went wide and she clapped her hands over her ears just before Hizashi let out a raw, ear-splitting scream loud enough to make the street jump under their feet. All of the streetlamps flickered and flared as the shockwave hit them and the evening came alive with the cacophonous sound of every car alarm in a two-block radius going off. Hizashi sucked in a hard breath that escaped him as a croaking hiccup as his legs finally gave out. He collapsed onto his knees in the middle of the street, hands buried in his hair as he let out raw, halting sobs. Haru ran to him, wrapping her arms around him and letting Hizashi cling to her and howl into her shoulder. He’d dropped the letter when he fell, and in the dim light from the resetting streetlamps Haru could just make out what it said.

Dear Mr. Hizashi Yamada,

Thank you for your interest in UA High School’s Hero Course academic program. We appreciate your diligence and dedication to completing all required steps of our application and evaluation process.

However, during the course of the practical application exam, an occurrence of your Quirk usage resulted in a one-block section of our video monitoring system being taken offline for a period of approximately 92.8 seconds. Due to a lack of additional coverage angles in this area, we are unable to validate the nine (9) exam points that were registered to you during this outage period.

Unfortunately unvalidated points are not able to be applied to your exam score, bringing your total practical exam score below our passing threshold level.

We thank you again for your interest, and wish you the best of luck in all future endeavors.

The letter was signed by Principal Nedzu and a slew of other names that Haru vaguely recognized as being on the admittance board staff.

Bastards, Haru thought savagely, pulling Hizashi even closer as she stroked his hair. They had no right to dock him that many points over their own carelessness. If that was the kind of regard they wanted to show applicants, then to hell with them anyway. It would serve them right when Hizashi applied somewhere else and became a top-ranked hero all on his own.

But Hizashi didn’t apply anywhere else. UA had been his first and only choice; it had been his dream. Now the dream was gone, taking all of Hizashi’s spark with it. He fell back into his old habits, doing the bare minimum to not fail his classes while his grades toppled around him. Any time not spent sleepwalking through his schoolwork or being nudged into the bare basics of self-care was spent shut up in his room in silence, eyes focused on nothing. Not even their parents’ offer for Hizashi to get a fresh start by moving in with their maternal grandparents and finishing his schooling in America had gotten any kind of reaction out of him. Hizashi had just shrugged, giving a hollow-eyed monosyllable of agreement before asking to be excused so that he could go pack.

The day after his middle school graduation Haru had given her brother the tightest hug she could muster and told him to call her the second he needed anything. Hizashi didn’t respond, turning and trudging listlessly away from her onto the plane.

When he’d accepted Haru’s invitation to “drinks with friends from work”, Hizashi had unfortunately forgotten that Haru had two jobs. Instead of the gaggle of yoga instructors and personal trainers he’d been expecting to meet up with, Hizashi rounded the corner to see his sister standing amid a group of her fellow pro heroes in their civilian finest. He half-recognized most of them by build or face shape, but there was no mistaking the broad frame and wild shock of blue-white hair of the man currently laughing over something on Haru’s phone: the number six pro hero and UA teacher, Loud Cloud himself. A shrill alarm of self-preservation went off in Hizashi’s brain, screaming for him to beg off and leave before things got any worse. Before he could do more than panic and stare, however, Haru spotted him and waved him over.

“Zash! You made it!” Haru said, beaming. Hizashi smiled back weakly and waved as he trudged over, trying very hard to not make eye contact with anyone but her.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hizashi muttered.

Haru waved a hand dismissively. “We only just got here,” she said. “Everyone, this my brother Hizashi. Zash, this is everyone.” She rattled off a laundry list of names that came and went before Hizashi could put them to memory. What did catch his attention, however, was the fact that his presence brought the group to an even number of people. His brilliant mess of a sister had invited him, a multi-platinum wanted criminal, on a group date with some of the most powerful and respected pro heroes in the city. Hizashi bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep in the snort of helpless laughter caught in the back of his throat.

The ploy seemed to become even more obvious as Haru shooed Hizashi down to the opposite end of the table from herself, making sure he sat down across from Loud Cloud (real name Something-Or-Other Shirakumo). Hizashi could feel a nervous sweat beginning to gather on the back of his neck as Shirakumo cheerfully poured him a drink. There was no reason for him to freak out, Hizashi reminded himself sternly. No one at this table save for Haru had any idea he dabbled on the wrong side of the tracks, and not even she knew the half of it. All he had to do was put on a good face and avoid getting “white girl schwasted”, as Haru had so eloquently put it, and he’d be fine.

“So, what do you do, Hizashi?” Shirakumo asked, making Hizashi jump.

“He’s a self-made man!” Haru piped up from the far end of the table. Hizashi rolled his eyes at her.

“Uh, radio,” Hizashi answered for himself. “I’m the operations manager over at Asahi Radio, and I run the overnight show every couple of weeks if they need something to fill the slot.”

“That’s why you sound so familiar!” Shirakumo said, snapping his fingers triumphantly. “‘Put Your Hands Up Radio’, right? We have it on all the time in the office when we have to pull graveyard shifts.”

Hizashi grinned in spite of himself, a flattered heat in his cheeks. “My sister has a way of inflicting her bad taste on other people,” he joked apologetically. Haru blew a loud raspberry at him but Shirakumo just laughed, shaking his head.

“Nah, we’ve been listening for years, even before Haru hired on. It’s a good pep-up when it’s two AM and you’re still chained to your desk.”

Hizashi couldn’t help preening a little. “Glad to be of service,” he said, bowing.

“How long have you been in radio?” Shirakumo asked.

“Uh.” Hizashi paused, trying to do math despite the ebbing panic scrambling his concentration. “Twelve years now?” he said, almost sure that was right. “I did an internship right after I graduated high school and then I ended up just kind of sticking around. They haven’t gotten rid of me yet, so I must be doing something right.”

The Hizashi that stepped back off the plane after three years in Boston wasn’t the same one who had left, but Haru was glad to see the change. Hizashi saw her waiting inside the doors to the baggage claim and ran full-tilt through the crowd to scoop her up in a tight bearhug.

“Gah! Break my ribs, why dontcha?” Haru laughed, hugging him just as tightly. Hizashi had sprouted up while he was abroad, towering over her by at least three inches even without the tall fluff of hair gelled up over his forehead. He was still the same grinning dork she remembered, though, from his chunky hipster glasses to the way he immediately pulled her into a second hug just as tight as the first.

“I missed you so much, though!” Hizashi protested. Haru grinned, squeezing him back.

“Yeah, me too,” she said. “Now go get your bags and let’s hop-to,” she added. “I’m not the only one who missed your ugly mug.”

Hizashi chattered the entire cab ride back to their parents’ apartment, barely containing his excitement at being home. Haru kept thinking back to the sallow-faced, wilted scrap of a boy she’d seen off at the airport compared to the sunny freckled giant on the seat beside her and had to scrub the corners of her eyes dry before she made a fool of herself. Hizashi made no such attempt to contain his emotions as he walked into the surprise welcome back party everyone had put together for him. They buried him in affection, glad to finally have their family whole again. The gap in their ranks had almost fallen to the back of their collective minds in his absence but having Hizashi back made his absence sharper in retrospect. Hizashi spent the night regaling them with stories about American high school life that sounded to Haru like something out of a grimdark John Hughes movie but he swore up and down weren’t exaggerations. He kept in motion as he spoke, buzzing around the room to emphasize his points with some kind of elaborating miming or clearing away dishes or just pacing the room in the flurry of enthusiasm he always had when he was entertaining an audience.

Late into a story about the hellish test of fortitude that a square dancing unit in gym class was when you were in the middle of a growth spurt, Hizashi was interrupted mid-thought by the phone ringing.

“I got it, Ma,” Hizashi said, waving for their mother to sit back down as he headed off to grab the handset in the hall. “Yah-mada residence!” Haru heard him beaming into the phone. She caught their mother’s eye and they shared a snort and knowing grin. He’d been back all of a few hours and was already running full steam ahead, Haru thought, shaking her head. She could pretend to be disapproving, but there was nothing that made her feel more relieved than knowing he knew he was finally home.

She expected him to come loping back down the hallway after a few minutes after confirming to their grandparents he was safe, but the moment of absence began to stretch out uncomfortably. Haru got up and followed him, a sudden sinking in her chest at the thought that Hizashi’s cheer had been for their sake and he’d taken the excuse to break off and be upset on his own.

“Hey, didja fall in?” Haru asked, trying to keep her voice light as she poked her head around the corner. Hizashi visibly jumped at the sound, fumbling the phone’s handset before slamming it down into the cradle.

“Sorry, what?” Hizashi asked breathlessly. He looked very pale all of a sudden and his eyes had a faraway, glassy sheen to them.

“Everything okay, Zash?” Haru asked, the clench in her chest tightening another notch.

“Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah, I’m good. Wrong number,” Hizashi said, gesturing vaguely at the phone. “Got kind of shitty when I told them. Some people, right?” He gave a slightly unsteady scoff, rolling his eyes. Haru raised an eyebrow.

“Uh...huh,” she said slowly. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Totally,” Hizashi said, brushing past her back towards the living room. “Anyway, where was I?”

The odd hiccup in Hizashi’s mood kept eating at Haru over the next few days, all the more because of how otherwise normal he was acting. He spent his days out of the apartment, nominally looking for a job now that he was settled, and his evenings scouring want ads during commercial breaks while they all watched television together. He was buoyant and excitable, especially the night he came home exclaiming that the webcast talk show he’d spent the last few years running as a hobby had landed him a paid internship at one of the downtown radio stations. Everything was smiles and normality with occasional bouts of especially good news, and that more than anything was putting her on edge.

Hizashi begged off to bed early one night, claiming he wanted to get to sleep early before his internship started the next day. Slowly the living room emptied without Hizashi’s inexhaustible energy to keep them awake. Haru dozed off on the sofa in the middle of texting one of her friends, too lazy to drag herself to bed.

She was shaken awake by the sound of her keychains clattering together as someone took them off the hook by the door. Haru peered blearily over the back of the sofa just in time to see the back of Hizashi’s head disappearing out the front door. Her heart sank as she checked the time: two-thirty AM. A tired, scared part of her wanted to believe it was just nerves keeping him up and he was going out for some air. The look on his face after the phone call at his party came to the front of her mind, though, and wouldn’t let her put it aside.

Haru followed Hizashi at tailing distance, having to quickly duck behind whatever cover she could find as he got turned around and had to retrace his steps. Another nail in the coffin for this being a quick trip out for some fresh air; between his terrible sense of direction and having been gone for three years Hizashi would know better than to wander around unfamiliar territory in the middle of the night. Unless of course, Haru thought as she crouched behind a dumpster and watched her brother knock on the employee entrance of Hanajima’s Garden Supply and Boutique Florist, he had planned to meet with someone.

She tiptoed forward as Hizashi was waved in and the heavy steel door shut behind him. Her heart rattled painfully in her throat as she did her best to peek through the slats of the vent in the door. Haru only caught a flash of Hizashi’s hair and the back of his neon blue windbreaker as he disappeared deeper into the shop. Haru chewed her lip, a fist of panic threatening to squeeze the breath out of her. She wished she’d been thinking clearly enough in the moment to grab her phone on her way out. The smart thing to do would be to go find a patrolling hero or a police station or at least a payphone nearby, but the thought of leaving Hizashi alone to fend for himself if something went wrong made her stomach seize. No one on the up-and-up had meetings in the dimly-lit backroom of a flower shop at three in the morning, that much she was sure about.

Haru shifted from foot to foot, mind racing at a hundred miles an hour but getting nowhere. Hizashi was going to have to tell her the truth now; he couldn’t keep up his facade when he’d been caught red-handed doing something this level of sketchy. She would just have to stick around and find out what the hell he was thinking and the two of them would figure out where to go from here. Haru slowly backed away from the door in case someone inside the shop was watching and crouched down with her back against the shop’s wall to watch the door and wait for Hizashi. She tried to stay calm but as the minutes stretched into decades she had more and more time to stew on the audacity of it all. She and Hizashi had been best friends since they were babies, they’d never kept secrets from one another. It was against every tennant of the unspoken code of trust the two of them held sacred. Now here he was, barely a month back from doing god knew what in America and sneaking around behind everyone’s back. Behind her back. By the time Hizashi stumbled back out the employee door, pushed over the threshold by someone inside, Haru’s temper had risen to a barely-restrained boil.

Hizashi sighed, sniffling hard and scrubbing under his nose with the back of his wrist as he turned to walk away. Haru followed him as he reached the sidewalk, a whole slew of new terrible thoughts sprouting in her mind in the wake of that gesture. Hizashi’s mind seemed thoroughly elsewhere as he walked, not reacting to the sound of Haru’s footsteps behind him until her patience snapped and she spoke.

“Funny,” Haru said, relishing the way Hizashi jumped and staggered around to face her, “this doesn’t look like being in bed by ten because you have work in the morning.” She crossed her arms and channeled her mother’s most intimidating “all right, start talking” eyebrow raise.

“H-Haru--you--what are you doing here?” Hizashi spluttered. His eyes were wide and scared and there was a dribble of blood trickling down from his nose. Concern sparked in Haru’s chest, but she did her best to push it aside for the moment. She could afford to be worried about him once she knew what she was worried about.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Haru said tartly.

“N-Nothing, it’s just. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Hizashi rambled, using a lot of words to say absolutely nothing. Haru bristled.

“Hizashi Yamada, I swear to god--” she began.

“Haru, seriously!” Hizashi snapped, cutting her off. His voice cracked high at the end the way it always did when he was trying to keep himself from crying. Haru realized he was shaking all over, pale and wild-eyed in a way that was horribly familiar.

“Hizashi, is this about that phone call?” Haru asked, her tone softened but no less stern. Hizashi flinched, then nodded hesitantly. He dropped his eyes away from hers, arms wrapping protectively across his chest.

“Mr. Hanajima called. He. He thought I was Dad, and.” Hizashi broke off, shaking his head. “Mom and Dad were in trouble, but I took care of it. Just forget it, okay?” His voice was shaky and pleading.

“What do you mean, they’re in trouble?” Haru asked, a cold chill running up her spine.

“Were, they were in trouble, but it’s fine now, I swear!” Hizashi said. He tried to smile reassuringly but the faltering expression just made him look more scared. “They just. They owed Mr. Hanajima some money, and they were late on payments. He said he was going to have to find a new way to enforce the deadlines if they didn’t pay it all off soon, so I told him I’d take care of it instead.”

“What? Why?” Haru asked. Her tone came out too sharp again and Hizashi flinched away from her again.

“On the phone he kept talking about how it was irresponsible to borrow so much money without a good way to pay it back,” Hizashi mumbled slowly. “And how the university board and Mom’s promoters would want to know about how reckless their employees were being. And how the hero certification board would want to think twice about hiring out someone with parents who were so financially unsound, and the medical board and the admittance committees for all the high schools in town and...and the whole stupid thing is my fault anyway, so I handled it, okay? It’s no big deal.” He pushed the last part out in one rapid, shaky breath.

Haru stared at him. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing; her parents had never mentioned anything about money problems to her, least of all the kind that required the help of some racketeering florist. “You lost me,” Haru admitted flatly. “I mean, I get why you’re worried, but. Mom and Dad are grown adults, Zash. If they felt like they were in that kind of trouble they would tell us--me especially! I literally went to school for this kind of thing. How is any of this your fault?”

“What do you think they needed a whole lot of quick money for, Haru?” Hizashi asked, a snippy tone of exasperation coming into his voice. “For their adult daughters who have their own jobs and pay their own bills? For--For the preteens who are acing every one of their classes and are gonna have the world on a string after they graduate? Or maybe it was for their fuckup middle child who decided he needed to have a breakdown over not getting something he wanted!” His voice rose to a frantic, angry shout, echoing loudly enough in the early-morning silence to rattle the glass in a nearby shop window. Hizashi clapped his hands over his mouth, shoulders heaving as he breathed.

The last flicker of anger went out of Haru as she watched him struggle against the impulse to scream. She wondered how long that had been boiling under his skin, waiting to emerge. “Zash, that wasn’t your fault either,” she said gently. “They made a stupid, bad decision and you got screwed. You’re allowed to be upset over something like that.”

Hizashi scoffed, hands dropping to wrap around himself again. “Two hundred forty million yen’s worth of upset?” he asked hollowly.

Haru’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“It costs a lot of money to raise your kid from six thousand miles away,” Hizashi said bitterly. He shook his head hard and looked back up at Haru. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “I already said I’d take care of it. It’ll take a while to pay off, but I’ve got plenty of time. It’s fine.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself and Haru at the same time. Neither of them were buying it if the current mood was anything to go by.

“Zash,” Haru said slowly. She tried to think of a way to phrase her objection as something softer than “don’t be stupid”. “What are you supposed to do if they decide that paying them back isn’t good enough?” she said finally. “Just keep working for them until you die?”

“I. I dunno,” Hizashi mumbled, shrugging. “I guess I’ll figure that out if it happens. Right now all that matters is making things right for Mom and Dad, and I did that.”

Haru sighed. An exhausted, selfish part of her wished it had been something more straightforwardly wrong that had them hashing things out in the early morning air. Something she could feel justified in yelling at him about, at the very least. “You aren’t going to tell them about this, are you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Hizashi shook his head firmly. “No,” he said. He hesitated, then asked, “Are you?”

Haru snorted out an exasperated laugh. “What good would it do?” she asked, throwing her hands up. “They didn’t want to tell us, what good is it going to do to let them know we know by getting them wrapped up in it all over again? I’d run your dumb ass to the cops, but at this point they’re probably in Hanajima’s pocket already.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Just. I want you to promise me something, okay? I’ll keep out of it for now, but you have to swear to me the millisecond that this gets too big for you to handle on your own, you let me help you, got it?”

Hizashi looked uncomfortable giving his word on something like that, but Haru didn’t relent. She set her jaw and held out her hand with the pinky extended. He hesitated a long moment, then linked his pinky with hers and they shook on it.

“I promise,” Hizashi said quietly, meeting her eye again. Haru nodded authoritatively, shaking one last time before letting go.

“Okay,” she said, letting her breath out slowly. “That internship you told us about. Is that a for-real thing, or was it a cover for this whole...thing?” Haru asked, waving a vague hand to encompass the tangled mess the night had turned into

One corner of Hizashi’s mouth quirked up and he brightened very slightly. “Yeah, it’s real. It really does start tomorrow, too. Er, today, I guess,” he corrected himself awkwardly.

Haru nodded. “We should get home, then,” she said, turning him the right direction down the sidewalk. She took his hand as they walked, relieved that his hand was shaking just as much as hers.

Haru hated feeling like she couldn’t trust Hizashi’s word that his internship was real, but that was exactly why she was in the front lobby of Asahi Radio at lunchtime the next day. The receptionist told her it would be a few minutes until the interns were free, so Haru wandered off to kill time reading the wall of award plaques they had on display.

Haru heard her brother’s cackling laughter trickling down the hallway even before she saw him. Hizashi came strolling up to the front with a whole entourage of kids around his age, arms full of boxes and in the middle of one of his many stories about living in America. He beamed as he saw her, almost dropping his boxes as he tried to wave. The interns went in a side room with their load and were dismissed by the woman overseeing the work-study. Haru grinned in a combination of relief and genuine pride as Hizashi jogged over.

“Hey, kid,” Haru said, reaching out and ruffling his hair. “Thought I’d take you out to lunch to celebrate your first day. Pick something expensive, it’s a special occasion.”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Hizashi teased brightly as they walked out the front door. Haru privately doubted that was the part of all this that she’d come to regret.

“Have you guys been having to pull a lot of all-nighters?” Hizashi asked, trying his best to make the question sound casual.

Shirakumo frowned slightly, nodding. “I wish we weren’t,” he said, “but it seems like every time we get a handle on a case we’re working on, three more complications crop up overnight.”

“Which is the boss’s nice way of saying if any of us meet Mockingbird face-to-face, we’re going to kick his teeth in,” the woman sitting on Shirakumo’s left said, jostling Shirakumo with her elbow.

It took more self-control than Hizashi thought he possessed three beers into the night to hold back a bark of laughter at that. He waited until he thought he could speak without giggling, then asked, “He’s still active? All of our news contacts are at loose ends trying to come up with anything new about him.”

“That is a whole-ass mood,” the woman said, nodding. “Hey. Haru says you’re pretty brainy,” she added, pointing speculatively at Hizashi.

“I guess so,” Hizashi said with a shrug.

“Maybe you can riddle this out for us,” the woman said. “Say you were tracking a criminal, goes by a code name that rhymes with ‘blocking herd’. The guy by definition is a lone operator, and he follows a pretty standard pattern of ebb and flow in what he does. Then one day he falls off the face of the planet. Not a peep out of him. Well, other than a couple tangents that people blame him for, but you can’t pin ‘em on him, so they don’t really count. Then right in the middle of that, suddenly there’s a whole new face who shows up and causes a scene, supposedly on the first guy’s behalf. But there’s still no sign of the guy himself in any of it. What say you?”

“I would say maybe you need to switch to water for a while, Misa,” Shirakumo said meaningfully, tugging the half-full glass of beer out of her hand and swapping it for a glass of water. Misa frowned at him, but chugged it obediently. “None of that constitutes an official statement from the agency or anyone affiliated with it, by the way,” Shirakumo added to Hizashi. He was still smiling, but there was a definite “or else” hiding in his tone.

Hizashi nodded dismissively. “Obviously. Just a hypothetical over drinks with friends,” he agreed. He took a long sip of his drink, pretending to be thinking the situation over. The fact that Aizawa was now officially implicated caused a sharp squirm of guilt in his gut, but he did his best to ignore it.

“I see what you mean about one problem being solved causing three more in the process,” he said finally with a thoughtful nod. “Assuming the new face is legitimate, that opens up a couple options. It could mean your main suspect is getting cocky and adding to his ranks, or he’s getting scared and wants some insurance that he won’t go down alone,“ he continued, ticking the options off on his fingers. “Either way, you at least have your reason for him staying quiet.”

“How so?” Shirakumo asked. He was looking more closely at Hizashi now, an impressed interest clear in his expression.

“Why would he risk showing his face if his pets are walking around doing his wet work?” Hizashi explained, wondering too late if that skirted too close to the truth. “Cockiness leads to laziness, fear leads to paranoia,” he added, weighing the words in his hands. “Either way, not great. And then you also have to consider the option that the whole thing’s a lie, and the supposed new muscle is just a contractor for a competitor or someone your guy pissed off who’s trying to get him into extra trouble by pulling stunts in his name behind his back. If so, who’s behind that?” He shrugged, very sure now that everyone was looking at him that he should have kept his mouth more full of booze and less full of words. “Sounds like a total headache. No matter what solution you’re looking at you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Damn,” someone muttered from the other end of the table.

“Told you,” Haru replied, preening. Hizashi shot her a look that she cheerfully ignored.

“So, we’re hiring this dude for our analysis team, like, yesterday, right?” Misa asked Shirakumo. Hizashi laughed awkwardly, shaking his head.

“Thanks, but nah. I’m not really the hero type, I’m just a DJ with an overactive imagination. I’ll leave the crime fighting to you guys and just use the talents I was given to help wherever I can,” Hizashi said, raising his glass in a salute down the table.

Haru drummed her heel against the floor, arms crossed tight across her chest and her back against the closed door of her room. Hizashi was sitting at her desk, eyebrows tightly knit together and a hand over his mouth as he re-read the handwritten letter in front of him. Haru’s fist was clenched around the envelope it had come in so tightly she could practically feel her parent’s names written on it along with the return address of Hanajima’s Garden Supply and Boutique Florist.

“This is insane,” Hizashi said finally, his voice hollow.

“Not the word I would have used, but. Yeah,” Haru sighed. She was doing everything she could to suppress the urge to say “I told you so”, but the words kept bunching up in the back of her throat if she thought about them too long. She could only thank her lucky stars she’d been the first one to get home and check the mail today. Right at the top of the pile had been the letter from Hanajima. Haru had snatched it up and ripped it open before she even bothered to take off her shoes. Haru had already been dialing Hizashi to come home before she reached the end of the letter; all it had taken to get him moving was the word “Hanajima”. The two of them had barricaded themselves in Haru’s room, reading the letter one after the other in tense silence.

Dear Yamadas,

It has been quite some time since we last corresponded, and I wish that it could be for a better reason.

Some years ago, you were granted forgiveness on a large lump-sum loan debt to me due to outside assistance. However, it had recently come to my attention that, putting aside the forgiven amount, there was unaccounted for interest remaining on the amount registered as paid off which has in turn gathered interest in the intervening years.

Per our previous agreement, as this amount was accrued prior to your loan forgiveness, the sum total of seven hundred eighty-thousand yen remains on your account in need of repayment. I understand that you may need some time to gather such an amount. I am willing to work out an attenuated payment plan similar to your previous repayment schedule, should you need such accommodations.

I hope this letter finds you all well, and I look forward to hearing from you regarding the issue I have outlined above.

Sincerely, Keijiro Hanajima

Hizashi sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “He’s got to know he can’t pull this over on me,” he said, thumbnail scraping irritably at the corner of his mouth. “I’m too deep in his money, I know this is wrong.”

“He was probably counting on Mom and Dad not telling us,” Haru said. “He knows they didn’t tell us about the loan, and that you still haven’t told them that you’re the one that got them off the hook.”

Hizashi’s expression clouded over even more at that. He chewed the inside of his cheek, then shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.” He said it like that was the last of the conversation, holding out a hand to Haru for her to give him the envelope as he dialed a number into his phone. He looked up at her when she didn’t hand it to him, flexing his fingers in a “dude, c’mon” sort of getsure. “Mr. Hanajima, it’s Yamada. Yessir, I’m well, how are you?” he said, glaring at Haru when she moved the envelope to her far hand.

“Put it on speaker,” Haru mouthed, signing the words as well to make sure he got the point. Hizashi widened his eyes meaningfully at her as he shook his head sharply.

“I’m handling it,” he mouthed back. “Yessir, everything’s fine, I just had something to talk to you about if you have a minute,” he said brightly into the phone. Haru replied by signing “Not leaving. Speakerphone. Now.” and crossing her arms. Hizashi gritted his teeth, grudgingly putting his phone down on the desk and turning on speakerphone. He put his middle finger to his lips, reminding her to keep quiet and flipping her the bird all in one motion. Haru rolled her eyes at him but did her best to not to exist for the moment.

“I’d say there were better times, but I’m sure you’ll get to the point,” Hanajima was saying from the other end.

“Of course. It’s about a letter that was sent to my parents today,” Hizashi said. He was keeping his voice on the lighter end of neutral, but his expression was stormy and his leg had started thumping irritably.

There was a short silence on the other end of the line, then Hanajima asked in a pointedly calm voice, “Do you make a habit of reading other peoples’ mail?”

“Only when I assume from the return address that it’s mine,” Hizashi said, coldly chirpy. “There, uh. Seems to be a discrepancy between what I was told when I signed on and what you’re telling them in this letter, sir. Something about unforeseen interest?”

“I know my own business, Yamada,” Hanajima said coolly.

Haru barely held in a snort, rolling her eyes. “What a tool,” she mouthed to Hizashi, who bit back a grin and waved for her to keep still.

“I’d never dream to imply otherwise, sir,” Hizashi said. “It’s more a question of numbers. I’ve been keeping a log of my payments and theirs for a while now, sir, for my own records. There’s nothing that would add up to the kind of money you’re asking for.”

To Haru’s surprise, Hanajima gave a sardonic, almost patronizing snort of laughter. “I’m sure that’s how it is in your records,” he said. “It would be rather inconvenient for all of you if it suddenly happened that you owed an even greater sum to me than previously thought, wouldn’t it? But unfortunately sometimes that’s just how these things go.”

“With all due respect, sir--” Hizashi began, his thinning patience beginning to show in his tone.

“Which is a lot, Yamada, and I would hope you and your parents keep that fact in mind,” Hanajima said. “You have a diligent mind, Yamada, but human error can make numbers do a remarkable amount of things, particularly when there is a conflict of interest to spurr it along. Money is owed and money will be paid. That’s just business.”

Hizashi’s jaw went rigid, hands balling into tight fists on the desk. “Of course, sir,” he said through gritted teeth. “My mistake. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Hanajima agreed. Without any kind of pleasantry or signoff he hung up, leaving Hizashi seething in his wake.

Haru let out a long, low whistle. “That went well,” she muttered in a half-hearted attempt at levity. Hizashi didn’t reply, his eyes staring hard into the middle distance. He straightened up in the chair, coming to some grim decision.

“Haru?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to do me a favor,” Hizashi said as he stood up.

“What?” Haru asked warily. Hizashi fixed her with a determined stare. She had the sudden thought of how grown up he looked now; the past five years had taken the last of the adolescent roundness out of his features and made him all sharp angles and seriousness.

“When I go out tonight, don’t follow me,” Hizashi said.

“Zash,” Haru sighed, just on the edge of wheedling. Hizashi’s expression didn’t falter. Haru frowned, nodding in grudging agreement. “Fine. But you remember that promise you made me, got it? If this goes to shit, you call me,” she said, poking him meaningfully in the chest.

Hizashi’s mouth quirked up into a very slight smile. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze. “I know, I will. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“Oh my god, did you guys hear about what happened with Mr. Hanajima from the flower shop?” Hoshi asked a few days later over dinner. Haru’s head jerked up at the sound of the name, heart in her throat. She shot Hizashi a glance out of the corner of her eye, but he had his eyes locked on his plate as he calmly cut his steak into increasingly smaller pieces.

“Who’s that?” Hinako’s stepson Hitoshi piped up.

“An old friend of Nan and Jii-chan,” Hinako said, motioning for him to not get distracted and finish his dinner.

“What about him?” Haru asked as Hoshi all but vibrated in their chair with the barely-restrained excitement of a teenager with hot gossip to share.

“Okay, so get this: everybody thought he was just a florist or whatever, but he’s actually been running this huge money scheme out of his shop and loansharking all these people and has all these ties to, like, yakuza and stuff,” Hoshi said.

“What’s a yakersha?” Hitoshi asked around a mouthful of vegetables.

“It’s ‘yakuza’, don’t talk with your mouth full, and never mind,” Hinako’s wife Mara said, once again turning the eight-year-old’s attention back to his plate.

“Fumiko Nakamura from the second year class says she heard from her uncle that Hanajima lost it and just spilled everything to the cops over the phone,” Hiro added, catching the spark of his twin’s infectious energy. “They got him on tape and everything.”

“He totally got arrested right in front of me and Hiro while we were walking to school today, it was crazy!” Hoshi finished, eyes bright.

“He always seemed so...legitimate. You never do know with some people I suppose,” their father said haltingly with a slightly strained laugh. Their mother reached out and squeezed his hand.

Haru stared hard at Hizashi, not so much as blinking until he finally relented and looked up at her. He met her gaze smiling calmly with nothing behind his eyes. It was disconcerting how easily he could switch himself off like that.

“How?” Haru signed to him, using the smallest motions she could.

“Don’t worry. It’s over,” Hizashi replied. Haru frowned, having had about enough of his sideways, noncommittal answers.

“You two all right down there?” their father asked before Haru could press him for details.

“I took the last popover and she needed to call me a few things she can’t say in front of the shortstack,” Hizashi said brightly, grinning over at Hitoshi.

“Language,” their father teased with a faux-stern look at Haru.

“He started it,” Haru groused, sticking her tongue out at Hizashi. Hizashi gave her a tight smile of thanks for playing along. Haru rolled her eyes but nodded back. This would just get added to the mounting pile of things about her brother she was never going to get a straight answer about, she supposed moodily.

“It was really cool to finally meet you, dude,” Shirakumo said as he and Hizashi walked down the street towards the train station. “Haru talks about you all the time, I think we were all kind of chomping at the bit to finally meet the mythical Hizashi.”

“I am pretty great,” Hizashi joked, tossing his hair over his shoulder. Shirakumo let out a loud, snorty laugh. It was really no wonder he was such a popular hero, Hizashi thought. His height and broadness gave the impression of an intense bearing when you first met him, but it was quickly balanced out by his open ultra-honest personality. Even the jagged scars that cut through his right eyebrow and down the side of his face seemed charismatic in their own way, giving him a well-traveled, swashbuckling kind of charm.

“Sorry about Misa jumping on you like that, by the way,” Shirakumo went on with a self-conscious grimace. “It’s been so long since we’ve taken a break from work that I think we’ve all kind of forgotten how to switch off and chill out.”

“No worries, I know how that goes. You should ask Haru what it’s like trying to get me to shut up when we get someone interesting in the studio for an interview,” Hizashi replied, waving the apology away. “I end up annoying myself half the time.”

Shirakumo snort-laughed again. “I dunno, that seems pretty interesting to me. Maybe we could grab something to eat sometime and you can tell me about it instead.”

He said it so smoothly that Hizashi almost agreed offhand without thinking about it. The word caught behind his teeth just in time as his brain caught up with what was actually being said. “Erm. Right,” he said instead, not having to force the awkwardness in his tone. “Haru told you I’m fresh off a breakup, didn’t she?”

Shirakumo flushed. “She...might have mentioned something about you being in kind of a funk,” he hedged.

Hizashi smiled in spite of himself. Two for two on dashing heroes who can’t lie to save their soul, he thought, amused. “I appreciate the offer, don’t get me wrong. But I, uh. I’m not sure it’s a great time for me to have something going on with someone,” he said, trying to be as gently vague as he could.

“Yeah, no, I totally get that,” Shirakumo said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push, I just--”

“Haru made you promise to hit me up at least once tonight,” Hizashi guessed, letting him off the hook of trying to put it into nicer words. Shirakumo grinned.

“Guilty,” he admitted. He paused, then added. “I think she’s been worried about you, to be honest. I mean, Haru isn’t really the worrying type, but you can tell sometimes.”

“Yeah, she does that,” Hizashi agreed, fondness creeping into his tone. For all the shit he gave his sister about meddling and fussing over him, he couldn’t help being grateful for the concern. “It really wasn’t as big a deal as she seems to think, though. We went to coffee a couple times, for drinks, hung out at his place, nothing too intense.” Aizawa’s face flashed to the front of his mind, twisted in terrified fury as he called Hizashi nothing but a problem in his life. Hizashi shook his head. “We just realized we wanted different things out of the relationship. People are people, what are you gonna do?” he added with a breezy shrug.

“True,” Shirakumo said, nodding, as they reached the train station doors. “So, can I maybe platonically give you my number instead?” he asked with a slightly cheeky grin. “I wasn’t just hitting on you when I said it was cool hanging out with you tonight.”

Hizashi hesitated, drowning in irony with no hope of explaining why to Shirakumo. He needed to let Shirakumo down gently and walk away, but his brain seemed to want to help him precisely not at all in thinking of a way to do that. “Sure,” Hizashi said finally, unlocking his phone and handing it to Shirakumo. “I’ll text you the next time Haru threatens to muzzle me for talking her ear off about celebrity gossip.”

“Deal,” Shirakumo said, handing his phone over so that Hizashi could put his number in as well. “Don’t be a stranger!” he added as they swapped phones back and he turned to head home.

Hizashi considered doing just that most of the train ride home, staring down at the newly added “Oboro Shirakumo” in his contacts. As an extra little flourish, Shirakumo had added a fortissimo and a thundercloud emoji after his name. On the one hand, this was a terrible idea and Hizashi needed to lose Shirakumo’s number before he ended up doing something stupid. On the other hand, tempting fate by doing stupid things with heroes was practically his signature move at this point. With Aizawa freezing him out, keeping Shirakumo on deck was the only way for him to stay on brand. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? Hizashi shoved his phone into his pocket, hating the weight of preemptive dread that settled on his shoulders as he tried to preserve this small bubble of normality that had come into his life.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shouta #hizashi yamada #present mic #eraserhead bnha #eraserhead mha #erasermic #fic update #Fire Meet Gasoline AU #Quinny thinks she's a writer

[hellomissmabel]

Nothing under 7 inches (3)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Baker!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Aaaaaaaaangst

Word count: 3k

Summary: Bucky is a baker in Y/N’s hometown and with her mother’s birthday right around the corner, he’s excited to see her again. Y/N however doesn’t plan on staying for too long and aims to return to the city life, a dirty little secret getting in the way of her love life.

A/N: My prompt was “cottage”. This fic is written for @soldatbarnes her writing challenge. If you want on the tag list, please send me an ask! I can’t keep track of all the comments.

Series masterlist can be found here

Parking the car outside the house, Bucky takes a couple more minutes to just look at you, cupping your cheek so you’re looking back at him, too. You don’t say anything, your lips don’t move and your mind stop reeling for just those few seconds. But it feels like an eternity, an eternity of Bucky.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t fall in love with you again,” Bucky whispers eventually, smiling sadly at the girl in front of him. “But I guess I never fell out of love with you in the first place.”

You would’ve slapped Bucky right there and then if your mother hadn’t rushed out of the house to welcome you back. You wanted to scream at him for dropping such a bomb of emotions on you. It’s okay for him to still have feelings for you, but you can see it in his eyes that everything you say and do gives him more hope that one day you’ll reconcile and get back together. And frankly, you don’t think that day will ever come, the struggle still too great.

Turning your body away from Bucky, ready to albeit jump out of the car as anger rolls off you in thick waves, you address him very coldly as to not get his hopes up even more. “Bucky… we have to talk. I – I can’t do this now, so I’ll come by the cottage before dinner, okay? Mom said she wanted to have a quiet family dinner before the first guests show up for dessert. We can walk back to the house together.”

There’s still a certain softness to your tone, because he’s still ‘your’ Bucky. And he knows that he might’ve overstepped by confessing his love for you, but he’s just not ready to let you go. So he nods softly, his lips forming a small, tentative smile. “Okay…”

“You’re part of the family after all, Buck,” you whisper kindly as you move out of the car, “Always have been, always will be.”

The reunion with your mother is nothing short of bittersweet. She immediately pushes you to invite Bucky in, the sparkle in her eyes betraying her true intentions. When you tell her off by saying Bucky’s got some things to take care of first, her voice drops an octave as she rushes you to your old room, informing you that she hasn’t changed a thing about it.

And sure enough, your wall is still fully occupied by pictures of you and Sharon, you and some other friends, and of course you and Bucky. You also notice that your dad’s old vinyl collection has found its way to the back of your room as well, next to the speakers you used on a daily basis to drown out the worries and the darker moments.

Your mother eventually leaves you to settle down, after explaining to you how she finally managed to convince your father to wear a tie for dinner. Nostalgia then overwhelms you as you open up your suitcase and take out the dress you’ve bought just for this occasion. It’s a pretty modest dress but it also matches the colour of your mother’s eyes.

With the volume on max, you dance across your room and shake your curves to some of the songs you used to worship in high school. As you’re finishing up on your plum lipstick, “Teenage Dirtbag” is blasting through the speakers, a familiar dark-haired woman makes an appearance at your bedroom door. Gracefully she leans against the frame of the door, watching you with a playful smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

“PEGGY!,” you exclaim at the top of your lungs as you rush towards your sister to give hear a big bear hug. The brunet laughs heartily at her little sister’s enthusiasm and pecks your temple tenderly. “I didn’t know you were going to make it! London is such a long way.”

She shakes her head, giving you a little squeeze before taking  your hand in hers and sitting you both down on the bed. “I’m so happy to see you again, Y/N. I was hoping we could talk and catch up a bit before we head down for dinner.”

Biting your lower lip, you eye her apologetically. “I promise to go get Bucky before dinner. I’m sorry but we can always talk after?”

“Bucky, hm? Are you two warming up again?,” Peggy asks, glowing with happiness at the thought of a possible reunion.

But her glee is short-lived when you look away. “We just need to talk a couple things out, that’s all. We are not getting back together.”

Peggy hears the sheer determination in your voice and decides to drop the subject, instead shifting to another, important topic she wanted to cover with you before dinner. “Y/N, has dad talked to you already? About the house?”

You lock eyes gain, giving her a puzzled look. “No. What’s wrong with the house?”

Your big sister takes her time explaining the dilemma that’s been keeping your parents busy these past few months. “This house used to support two adults and three kids. But ever since we you, Wade and I moved out, this house is just too big for just mom and dad. So they’ve been thinking of putting it on the market…”

“But -,” you start but Peggy is quicker and places a tender hand on your knee.

“They’ve already got their eyes on a cottage like Bucky’s. Which also brings the question… Does Bucky wanna stay in the cottage? If so, mom and dad are willing to sell it to him for a soft price…” Her perfect red mouth forms a sad smile. “After all, he’s part of the family, too.”

“I’ll ask him what he wants to do,” you reply as you blink your eyes in surprise. “Where are mom and dad going to move to, Peggy?”

“Washington,” she answers after a heartbeat of silence. “With me in London, Wade in LA and you in New York,… There isn’t much left to keep them here… And lots of dad’s friends like Fury and Coulson live in Washington as well.”

Opening and closing your mouth again, you decide against reasoning with Peggy. You understand that this decision has been a long time coming. Nevertheless, it hurts to part ways with the house that’s been such a warm home and shelter to you for all these years. Your sister knows this and leaves you to collect your thoughts, caressing your cheek shortly before exiting your room.

There’s a single tear trickling down your face when you get up and grab your phone, sending a quick text to Bucky to let him know you’re coming. Putting on your sneakers and saving your high heels for when you come back, you step out of the door and head down the back towards Bucky’s cottage.

It’s been his place ever since his father kicked him out at 17 and you asked your parents if your brand new boyfriend could crash there for a couple days. Your parents didn’t use the cottage anyway, unless for storage, and agreed after you promised to pass your exams with honours. But those couple days turned into weeks and into months, until you and Bucky has been going steady for a year and the cottage became his permanent residence.

Bucky’s waiting for you on the porch, his arms crossed over his chest so his dress shirt seems a litter tighter. He’s flipping his phone between his fingers and cards a hand through his hair, unaware of your presence until you’re standing right in front of him.

“Hi, Buck,” you greet him softly, resting your hand on his to shake him from his thoughts and prompt him to look up at you with those ruthless baby blues. They still rip your heart apart after all these years, their Icelandic beauty as cold as a freezer yet as warm as a ray of sunshine when they fall on you.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, straightening his back and shoving his phone in his back pocket before hugging you. The gesture catches you off guard, and you awkwardly just stand there while Bucky’s arm wrap around you like a golden cage.

Soon he notices your discomfort and quickly takes a step back, leaning against the wooden frame of the cottage. “Sorry,” he apologises quickly, eyes cast towards the ground. “Couldn’t help it.”

“We need to talk, Bucky,” you say as you nudge his shoe with the tip of your sneakers and he shoots you a small smile as he notices you’re wearing trainers under your fancy dress.

“I’ve never seen you in a dress that colour,” he comments on your outfit.

You roll your eyes at his compliment. Bucky’s never seen you in a dress like this before, apart from your prom dress and the sundresses you’d wear when you were spending your summer afternoons at the lake. Not even on your first date, when you shared milkshake after milkshake at the local diner, you wore skinny jeans and a nice sweater.

The only time you do wear a dress is when Tony asks you to. Fortunately, Bucky isn’t around to see Tony parade around with you on his arm, clad in an expensive gown he purchased for you. “It’s a special occasion,” you shrug when your hands smooth over the velvety dress. “You wanna tag along?”

Bucky follows suit as you retrace your steps back to the house, both of you waiting for the other to speak first. You send him a couple sideway glances and he clears his throat. “Y/N… About what I said in the car...”

You stop in your tracks, gazing up at him with woeful eyes. “Bucky? You know why I left, don’t you?” The brunet remains basking in the silent light of the late afternoon, searching for something that isn’t there anymore. “It wasn’t because I didn’t love you. A part of me will always love you.”

“Then why did you break up with me?,” he questions carefully, hoping still.

“I – I broke up with you because we had different dreams. All you ever wanted is a wife, kids and a bakery. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve always felt like there’s something more, like there can be something more out there for me. I grew up here and I loved it here, until I came to a point where I’d seen it all. I wanted to explore, I wanted to see where life outside of this town would take me. I wanted to…”

“Find yourself?,” Bucky finishes your sentence with a scoff, thinking back to the day you said your goodbyes. “Because I’ve heard that bullshit before. You’ve told me that lie before.”

“It’s not bullshit, Buck, and neither is it a lie,” you defend yourself, pulling up those walls you have been trying to break down for so long. “I regret leaving you, I regret breaking your heart. Believe me, I regret that you’re not a constant figure in my life anymore. But I would’ve regretted it more if I had stayed, if I had stayed here, forever wondering what could’ve been…”

“Y/N, I would’ve followed you anywhere! I would’ve waited for you! But instead you just dumped me like a piece of garbage. You didn’t even tell me you were leaving until an hour before the last train!”

His voice grows softer, as do his eyes as he grabs your hands in his and squeezes them gently. “You complete me, Y/N. I will never want nor love anyone else but you. You complete me, so wh1y can’t I complete you? Just tell me what I have to do to complete you.”

Tearing your hands away from his, you just stand there, seething and confused. “I don’t need anyone to complete me, I don’t need a guy to complete me. I needed to complete myself first before I could even think about settling down and having kids and doing all those things you were talking about. I just wasn’t ready. I needed to love and complete myself first.”

You can tell how much it pains Bucky to be completely honest with him, his shoulders slumped as his face falls in a morose expression. “I will never forgive you,” he mumbles under his breath, shying away from your penitent gaze.

His voice is steadier when he speaks to you directly, eyes stern and challenging. “I forgave you for leaving, because I love you. But I will never forgive you for this, because now I just…” A shuddering sigh falls past Bucky’s lips and you know it’s over. “Now you just mean nothing to me, like I seem to mean nothing to you.”

Wanting to refute his words, you cast aside the longing to run away and make a bold move instead, crossing Bucky’s path as he moves away from you and pushing hard against his chest. “Don’t you get it?!”, you scream at him with all that you have in you, not even caring if they hear you from miles away.

“I was suffocating, long before I fell in love with you!” Another shove to his torso and Bucky bounces back on the heels of his feet, astonished by the power you set behind your movements, noticing the tears streaming down your face.

“I was miserable. My brother and sister were out there living their own lives and I didn’t have anybody. Dad was a workaholic and my mother only had attention for me when she wasn’t writing on her next novel. I was fucking miserable and when I told Sharon about it, all she could say was that she’ll hook me up with some nice guy that would take my mind off things straightaway.”

Furiously you wipe away the wetness gathering in your eyes. “She’s a good friend but she didn’t understand. Even though I had friends, I felt so alone. And then Sharon introduced me to you and it seemed as if there was a silver lining for me after all.”

Bucky’s ears don’t know how to handle your confession. He didn’t know you were feeling this way, he didn’t know how deep the roots of your pain went. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. But if you just would’ve told me, I could’ve -” he whispers sadly, your hands moving of their own volition and striking him with your palm right in the face.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” you cry out, sobbing loudly and aching for the relief of his warmth and comfort. “There is absolutely nothing you could’ve done! I messed things up! I needed to get out, I just needed to get out…”

He’s slightly taken aback by your sudden outburst, his cheek burning in the aftermath. But he doesn’t let this bring him off balance, yet he throws his arms around you and cradles your face on his chest. “I wanna go back to New York,” you sob eventually, looking up at him with teary eyes. “But I don’t want to spoil mom’s birthday party.”

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, he smiles down at you. “I know. I know, Y/N. I’ll take you back first thing tomorrow morning, okay?”

You agree and stay enveloped in Bucky’s arms for a minute longer, until you can hear the happy cries of your parents when your brother Wade arrives. Slowly detangling yourself from Bucky, you press a tentative yet tender kiss to his cheek, apologising profusely. He of course says it’s nothing to worry about.

Before you go back inside, he laces one arm around your waist again to make sure you’re not bolting again. Holding you securely tucked into his side, you walk up together down the road and to the front where Wade, Peggy and your parents are waiting for you.

“I didn’t mean it,” Bucky whispers as he pecks the crown of your hair. “I still love you. You still mean the world to me. But now I understand that I have to let you go.”

A part of you is glad that Bucky didn’t cast you aside like he said he would, but another part of you feels a pang of guilt. It erupts in your chest like a bomb and it makes you feel like a wounded soldier, shell shocked and ready to accept their untimely fate. You didn’t know it would feel this way, you didn’t know that it would feel so ambiguous. You didn’t know that Bucky would still have such an effect on you.

“There she is,” your brother Wade exclaims as he launches himself at you, albeit tearing you away from Bucky and twirling you around in his arms. “My baby sister!”

The whole family bursts into hearty laughter and somewhere you find it in yourself to share in their laughter. Nevertheless, as your eyes lock with Bucky’s again, there’s a tension between you two that’s holding you back. And not just holding you back from going forward with your plan and rushing back to New York, where Tony is waiting for his princess to spoil rotten. But also holding you back from closing this chapter in your life completely.

Wade lets you ride on his back for old times’ sake and when everybody has found their designated seat at the table, yours next to Bucky as per your mother’s request, your father gives a heartfelt toast. Nobody seems to question your tears, deeming them as happy tears, as your mother and sister are moved by your father’s beautiful words as well.

But you’re not crying because of your father’s ode to your mother. You’re not crying because it’s your mother’s birthday and everybody made it back home. No, you’re crying because this will be the last time, the last time you’ll get the share a meal together with your family and Bucky. You’re crying because you’re now definitely breaking with the past and it isn’t a clean break like you’d aspired.

And even though Bucky is putting up a strong front and a straight face, too, he is slowly accepting that he’s better off without you, that he can now move on with his life. It’s a thought that over time will fill him with joy, or so you hope. You hope that every single soul at this table will find happiness in their hearts. You hope that everybody is happy.

Everybody is happy, yet you’re not.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @bhuckys @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @pineapplebooboo @curvybihufflepuff @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67

Series tag list: @buckyappreciationsociety @alexaduke @incoherentsmiles @iamthemaskhewears @booksb4boys69

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

#soldatbarneswritingchallenge #nothing under 7 inches part 3 #nothing under 7 inches #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fan fiction #sebastian stan #marvel #fan fiction #marvel fan fiction #avengers #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #peggy carter

[thomasreedtn]

More Mantis and Marmot Magic

After last week’s unusual animal sightings and interactions, the bizarre fun continues. The praying mantis who “reported for duty” last week is the friendliest insect I’ve come across. He (and it does seem to be a he, judging by size) landed on David’s arm on Sunday, and yesterday, I felt someone looking at me, only to discover it was my little mantis friend, hanging out on the cosmos! He said hi and then continued on his way. Today, he landed on my arm while I was planting strawberries and thyme. We both startled each other when I jumped, but after I apologized for flailing my arm, he turned his head and nodded at me.

David took down the dog run wire that had created a no-fly zone for hawks and eagles, and I didn’t see any groundhogs for a few days. This was compared to 3 or 4 sightings per day. The shed showed evidence of some kind of major tussle, but I don’t know who did what to whom. On the day I received 1.5 tons of soil, right before it arrived, I saw the old woodchuck out back. This is the more polite, grizzled one who just eats clover. He looked right at me through the window, kind of like a fat, old man saying, “Listen lady, I heard about you. Don’t mess with me.” When he got a little too close to the house for comfort, I opened and closed the window, which sent him lumbering away to the spruces.

Because David had recently trimmed the very bottoms of low hanging trees in order to make it easier for him to mow the lawn, I could see the groundhog, aka, “whistle pig,” aka Marmota monax, pop up in the far back, right corner of brush and trees. He just hung out there for awhile, and I went out front to await my soil drop off. Right before it arrived — and I mean immediately — who goes zipping from our neighbor’s backyard in a beeline across our driveway to the area across the street where I kept feeling a woodchuck? The very same one.

One scream later, I realized several things:

I don’t have to worry about the one I’d seen across the street suddenly finding our yard. This was a well traveled path.

The only reason he hadn’t seen my front yard garden was that it’s super stealth, hugging the treeline and he was moving fast.

The most likely predator of this particular groundhog might be a car. One barely missed him.

I don’t think it’s the same groundhog that ate my pepper plants, but it might be. For sure, I have seen this one on a regular basis, because he has very distinctive markings — almost distinguished with the white “beard.”

Once again, that uncanny groundhog timing was causing me to rethink an ambitious garden plan.

After the soil arrived on Monday morning, I started moving it to various beds, bags and in ground areas. Synchronously, my second 100 gallon original Big Bag Bed has still not yet arrived, and it was supposed to rain last night. It didn’t, but I used last night as my deadline to move all the soil off the driveway. I did fill another 50 gallon Big Bag Bed Jr. and a bunch of Smart Pots and Vivosun fabric pots. I’m experimenting to see which ones I like best, but they all mix and match sizes in a consistent black color that blends well with the edges of weeping trees:

Prior to seeing the groundhog jet across our driveway, I had planned to put the 100 gallon Big Bag Bed to the right of that second 10-gallon pot above and just to the left of the pots you see below, which are closer to the driveway:

The silver artemesia (wormwood) and lavender are both deer and groundhog resistant, possibly even repellent. I’m still ever so slightly considering the garden as planned with the 100-gallon circle just to the left of the leftmost artemesia; however, I have concerns that putting a larger bed out in the open, jutting forward into full sun from the treeline, will scream, “Hey, all you devouring critters, I’m gardening here! Free buffet.”

By getting greedy with the sunlight for more plants, I might jeopardize the entire front yard garden. If, on the other hand, I just continue hugging the treeline with the grow bags interspersed with mints, salvia, lavender and other highly fragrant and flowering herbs and deer/groundhog resistant butterfly plants, then maybe my front yard garden will remain stealth from not only groundhogs, but deer and humans, as well.

As I filled 20-gallon beds near the mailbox and readied the planter area for a bunch of butterfly friendly, deer repellent and drought tolerant plants, the woodchuck started going wild in the copse across the street. He was whistling so loud it sounded like a song. (I took this photo last evening, which is why it’s in the shade. Normally this area gets about 12 hours of direct sun per day, so these pots will house monarda (scarlet bee balm), catmint, and likely some daffodils. The pots unify the mailbox area with the birch tree guild closer to our house.)

Anyway, during the two days of soil moving, every time I thought about putting the 100-gallon bed up front, the groundhog would go crazy with excitement, whistling, singing and making bizarre woodchuck noises I’ve heard on youtube. Whenever I’d think of not doing that, he quieted down. Coincidence? Maybe, but since living here, I’ve noticed that groundhogs really do have impeccable timing. I’ve been eating from and enjoying this kitchen garden every day. I’d really prefer it remain off the radar. I’d also not like total devastation to be the first impression of our house if he or some of his friends finds the front yard garden. With plants hugging the treeline, damage is far less obvious.

Here’s where things get even more synchronous and magical. Part of this soil moving adventure involved filling eight 20-gallon Vivosun pots along our existing backyard hedge. Doing so meant moving the soil twice — once into a garden cart, hauling it around the side, through the gate, across the yard and then shoveling it a second time into each pot. They are too big to fit in the cart when full, so I would fill them up front just enough to hold shape, cart them back and then shovel the soil into them from the cart. It has been in the upper 80’s, sunny, and very, very humid. Let’s just say I got the full steam room treatment and a mini cleanse both days!

This hedge in front of the existing hedge will grow aronia berries, blueberries, strawberries, rhubarb and gooseberry, at least that’s the plan. After all that work hauling dirt, I now have some concerns that it may get sloshy and overflow during a hard rain. Once roots lock into the soil and give it structure, that will be less the case; however, we’re supposed to have four days of rain starting tonigh. Today, I realized I needed mulch, but I don’t want another delivery before all that rain. What to do, what to do … and I was still also wondering about that 100-gallon bed. Maybe I should put it out back, but if so, where? And plant it with what?

…And where could I get some wild ginger for the shady area up front? I checked around local nurseries and no one seems to have wild ginger, or at least not right now. It’s deer resistant, edible, and solves a ground cover situation up front. But where was it?! I looked all over online and finally found a bare root vendor on Amazon, but it’s very pricey for what ought to be free or close to it, since wild ginger grows like a weed in many places.

Anyway, dilemmas, dilemmas. Because of this groundhog situation in both front and back yards, I started wondering what would happen if I just put the Big Bag Bed to the west of the shed (on the side with the 20-gallon pots) and plant it with perennial onions, sea kale and whatever backups for the front yard crops I want. I could put my pot of nettles behind that bed and fill in the area behind the bed with more catmint and butterfly plants.

If that bed were to get devastated, I wouldn’t even be able to see it from most of the backyard. If it thrives, great! Sea kale might even wake up in spring before groundhogs do. Plus, I’ve been wanting an out of the way spot for garlic, Egyptian Walking Onions and a “magical” garden — some of whose plants can look a little weedy in an otherwise cultivated yard.

Today, I checked on that space multiple times to compare and contrast with the up front option. I think it gets ever so slightly less light than that full sun spot up front will, but it for sure will not scream, “Hey, I’m a garden!” because it will be tucked away and surrounded by and planted with repellent plants. I’d put it in an otherwise totally unused area, which is nowhere near our house foundation and close enough to the shed that no new tunnels would need to be dug.

While exploring that area again this afternoon and still pondering my mulch dilemma — too heavy to carry from the store while David’s in Goshen, don’t want a bulk delivery before the rain, really need something to moderate the soil moisture/overflow situation of my new fruit shrubs — the previous dumping ground for years of grass clippings suddenly caught my eye. This neglected, unseen area offered beautifully matted, dried grass clippings, perfect for mulching the 20-gallon bags! As I lifted literal pads of mulched grass clippings, I glanced in the shadiest back corner and saw several thriving wild ginger plants I can use for cuttings or transplant to the shady spot up front!

I also realized I could use the grass clippings to protect my new delphinium from having a landslide since I just threw in a 1 foot by 3 foot area of soil along the back trellis:

I planted some thyme as a groundcover/erosion control back there, but it will take awhile to establish. I don’t know that the grass clippings will totally solve the issue, but if they at least slow down the landslide until the roots get more established, then mission accomplished. That delphinium is groundhog repellent and should grow to 4 feet tall and 3 feet wide, filling in the center between the two established clematis.

I really can’t say that the groundhog is my official garden planner, but it’s quite eerie when every time I ponder a plan, a groundhog brings to light a wiser course of action. Perhaps it’s just permaculture in action: the problem is the solution. Maybe it’s the faeries.

In any case, I hauled 1.5 tons of soil in two days, some of it twice. A testament to just how hard I’ve been working since beginning to move out of the blue house/office on May 1, followed by our full relocation: even though I’ve been busy with sessions and literally working my butt off, this week still feels like a vacation. It feels good to have new plant friends, animal allies, and yes, nearly 2 tons of additional soil since moving here, with more on the way next week to fill that Big Bag Bed and more grow pots, wherever I decide they need to go.

It feels good to observe and learn our land, and it feels dangerously good to have an outdoor garden store, indoor hydroponics store and our favorite health food store all within a very short walk. I’ve had more synchronous encounters than I have time to blog or document. Sessions continue going well. All I can say is that I must really be tired of packing and unpacking, if hauling that much soil in 80+ degrees and high humidity feels like a vacation! But it does …

Wishing you and yours some garden magic — preferably without the marmot, but the mantis are fun! Blessed Be … and be the blessing!

from Thomas Reed https://laurabruno.wordpress.com/2017/07/19/more-mantis-and-marmot-magic/

[viralhottopics]

25 Men And Women Confess To The Darkest, Most Absurd Secrets Theyve Never Told Anyone Before

1.Identity Swapping Twins

“My grandfather had an identical twin brother. shall refer to grandfather as A and twin as B. Brother A got drafted into WWII, brother B didn’t so he pretended to be A to take A’s better job. Brother A returns from war and brother B’s still pretending to be him, even got promoted a few times. Brother A says, thats cool I’ll be brother C from now on (changed his name). This has gone on for over 50 years, never legally changed it or anything, just gave his identity to his bro and created a new one.”

2. Wasted…Too Wasted

“I once paid for a blowjob from a woman that was probably older than my grandmother. I was so wasted but I remembered everything. I quit drinking for a while after that.”

3. RIP Dennis

“Friend’s toilet doesn’t flush, I poop in trash can. Huge poop. Biggest poop I’ve ever taken. Friend’s family find massive poop in trash can and think that one of them threw out some dog poop, but due to the sheer size they figure that something is wrong with one of their dogs. A few weeks after taking their dogs to the vet, they find out their Yorkie has stomach cancer. Dog dies shortly after, incredibly large poop was seen as a result of the dogs cancer when in reality I pooped in their trash can. They still tell stories of the Yorkie’s poop that was about 3/4 it’s size.

RIP Dennis. You will be missed.”

4. No One Knows The Truth

“I was getting into a car once and somehow managed to slam my eye into the corner of the door.. got a giant black eye from it. Told everyone I got into a fight. No one but me knows the truth.”

5. Doing The Right Thing For Selfish Reasons

“When I was 15, I had my first girlfriend. She was the little sister of one of my very protective best friends, so right off the bat things were a bit sticky. She was a little off and after quite some time of prying she told me in confidence that when she was younger, her uncle abused her. She didn’t want to tell anyone because she figured it would destroy the family. Jump forward six months, and we break up over unrelated matters. The brother(my best friend) called me to a park to talk about it. I was pretty nervous that our friendship would end and the conversation when I got there was leaning towards that. Petty, but we were 15.

In a kind of last ditch effort, I told him about her uncle and what she told me. The conversation was then completely off me and the break up and onto her uncle. We sat there for a long time and I held him as he cried. The fallout from it was massive; the uncle was outed, his wife divorced him, he lost his job, etc. There was major rifts and divides across the entire family that lasted for a very long time. Their family has basically never been the same because of it.

I know what I did was right, because people like her uncle can’t be trusted and the truth should always come out. But in complete honesty, at the time I told my best friend about the uncle I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was simply trying to distract my friend and take the guilt off me. I’ve never told anyone that and it kind of feels good to let it out. I wasn’t any social justice warrior or even a hero for outing a bad guy, I was just a kid who was nervous.”

6. I Was A Teenage Prostitute

“I made a lot of money working as a prostitute from the age of 19-22.

I stopped because the lifestyle I was living was killing me, I was doing a lot of heroin, I was surrounding myself with really dangerous people who did some really shitty things to me, and I really wanted to kill myself.

I somehow found myself lucky enough to get out and into a new city, and I got help in getting clean. I now work a regular job at a nice coffee shop, I have friends I very much love and are a positive influence on my life.

I’ve told my closest friends, but it obviously isn’t something you go around advertising.”

7. I Don’t Remember It But I’m Pretty Sure He Does

“NSFW response just FYI since I see this thread isn’t tagged. Using a throwaway because i want to get it off my chest, but, you know.

When I was 11 my older brother raped me a number of times(for the record i am male). It was kinda weird in that I literally had no idea what I was doing and don’t even have traumatic memories. It’s just kinda something that I know happened. I didn’t even connect the dots until I was 14, and I didn’t feel that bad about it then.

Honestly, the event probably impacts me more than I give it credit for and I think if I really wanted to just correlate things i would relate a decline in self-valuation to this event. I’m pretty sure my older brother remembers it, he is only 14 months older than me, but I give him the benefit of the doubt. I am pretty sure he didn’t really know what he was doing (I was homeschooled from 6th grade onward so sex ed didn’t exist), and am absolutely certain he regrets it.”

8. Saving Money

“To save up money to move out, I sell nudes.

Some guys want really specific things (leather suits, feet in a certain angle) so it’s easier to ask what they want than trying to find it online. Usually $5-$15 for a few pics and depending on what they want me to do.”

9. A Guilty Pleasure

“I think ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ is one of the greatest songs in history, and when alone in my car, and no other cars are nearby, I try to hit all the notes.”

10. Testicular Torsion Is A Real Thing

“I only have one testicle. The other one was removed when I was in middle school due to Testicular Torsion (where the testicles twist upon themselves) cutting off the blood supply to that area.

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t get to the ER until several hours later, after 1) going to the normal doctor to see what was wrong, and having to wait a long time in line, 2) the doctor saying I needed to get to the ER ASAP, but when I did the doctors there had apparently mixed up my case with someone else’s (not as urgent) case, so I was waiting in the ER for longer than I should have. And then 3) when I finally got to see a doctor, they had to call a second doctor before I could undergo surgery due to my insurance needing a second opinion. With all of those delays they were only able to save one testicle, while the other one had to be removed.

With that being said, if you have a son who is at the late elementary/early middle school age and they suddenly feel an intense pain in their private area for no apparent reason, please get them to the Emergency Room ASAP.”

11. Laughing Along

“I enjoy getting fucked in the ass with a strapon. I’m a pretty normal guy otherwise, but it’s a bit funny to hear people occasionally crack jokes about the subject and I have to laugh along.”

12. The Samaritan’s Dilemma

“I once talked a dude I had never met out of suicide via a phone call.

Two years later the same dude develops a habit of harassing girls to the point they themselves start feeling suicidal. First time I hear of this I tell him to stop, second time I cut all communication with him.

Third time I outright told him I wished I never saved him, and then snuck to his house and left a bottle of bleach at his doorstep.

The dude is still alive. And I still say that saving him was a mistake.”

13. Couldn’t Hold It

“Pissed on the floor at work because I couldn’t make it to the restroom. I was closing and wanted to get out of there ASAP… misjudged how long I could hold it. Didn’t want to piss pants. Was mopping at the time. Convenient.

I am also female, so it was definitely a commitment (i.e. exposing buttocks).”

14. Dumb Kids Who nearly Died

“When we were seniors, Cody & I were just getting drunk and being dumb kids. He drove us to a friends apartment where I don’t even remember leaving, and went back to my house. I remember trying to convince him to stay the night, but he drove home. This was at 1am. I woke up to him screaming at me at 4am about how he crashed his truck. I live at home.

My Dad walked out because he was getting ready for work, and took Cody home. Cody had wrapped his truck around a pole, and managed to not only walk away but he fucking ran to my house. I saw the truck, I would have been killed had I been in it. Cody’s Dad took the damage for the truck, and my Dad never said anything about it. Cody stopped drinking after that. He’s still my best friend, but being dumb kids almost killed us.”

15. Visited An Escort At Nineteen

“I got an escort once when I was 19.

She was a psych student at the same university and graduated from high school a couple years before me. We had a strangely normal conversation lol, like you would with a barista.

Anyway she wrapped my tool, started jerking me off and I said something like, ‘Oh man I wanna be inside you let’s get this ball rolling!’

And she was like, ‘Sorry honey, I’m not full service.’

So I was like, ‘What’s that mean?’

She explained that it means I’m basically just gonna get a handjob.

She was tugging for like 15 minutes and getting a little annoyed like, ‘Are you close to finishing?’

I had to be like, ‘No offense, but I’m not a virgin or anything like that. I’m at a point in my life where it’s hard to get off to a hand job through a condom.’ She was like, ‘Well you’re gonna have to’ and went back at it. I finally busted like 20 minutes later, my dick was completely red and swollen from the whole thing lol

As I was getting dressed I was like, ‘Hey I’m not mad or anything. I totally understand it’s part of the hustle, but I’m not thrilled at forking out 120 bucks for a handjob. Could you school me on how to get more for my buck if I get an escort in the future?’

She happily explained to me all the lingo, what to ask for upfront what not to say on the phone etc etc.

I thanked her and as I left she was like, ‘What’s your deal dude? You’re not like a typical client, you look good in your little baseball cap and your stylish jeans. You aren’t a virgin, I don’t often get young guys like you.’ I told her I was just out of a bad breakup and had some xmas money from my grandma to burn.

She ended up just complimenting me and encouraging me to just get out and try to date instead of spending grandma’s money on pussy.

The confidence boost was better than the blowjob. Total sweetie, I saw her on campus once but out of politeness/discretion didn’t acknowledge her.

Was a very surreal experience.”

16. Hooks Up With Boss On A Business Trip

“This is a long story. I went on a business trip with a group from work. The day we left I found out that my husband was sleeping with my brother’s wife. Of course the alcohol flowed and the owner of the company began hitting on me. My roommate went to the room early and I stayed out with a bunch of coworkers and the owner at a bar. He began texting me saying that he would walk to his room, I would walk to mine and then he would come over to mine later so no one would know. He gets there and things get heated, we are going full force when my coworker roommate starts screaming at me to shut the fuck up. She gets upset and runs out, gets in her car and goes all the way back home. It was dark and she didn’t see who the man was. We get back to work and she tells everyone that I was fucking a random and she felt unsafe. So my boss(not the owner) decides that he’s going to suspend me for putting myself and my roommate in danger. I’m not telling anyone that it was actually the owner so I was suspended without pay for a week. The owner paid me my weeks wages plus some secretly. He’s 20 years older than me and married:( I left that job because of it.”

17. Burying Doctor Manhattan

“My best friend, lets call him Doctor Manhattan, hung himself two years ago. He was an ex-African refugee from the war in Rwanda, with a very promising career in physics. He actually had an offer to work at the LHC, and he looked very much forward to it that is, until he committed suicide, of course.

It took all of us by surprise. He has always been a very dark individual, and not only by the color of his skin : he definitely had the most fucked up sense of humor Ive ever seen. Were talking about disguising himself as a plantation slave for Halloween, or pretending to be named Kunta Kinte when a stranger asked his name.

Anyway.

Since he died in the middle of Winter, and that I live in a country where it is impossible to bury the dead in the frozen ground, we had to wait until Summer to actually bury him.

That very day, unfortunately, I had to work extra for some bullshit reason. Immediately after my shift, I ran to the cemetery as fast as I could. It was not really far from there, but still ; I did not want to miss that.

Halfway there, I suddenly heard bells ringing, and singing. I knew too well what that meant.

I missed it. It was too late.

As I came upon the cemetery upon the hill, nobody was left there.

Well, almost nobody.

Manhattan only had two white friends in the city ; me, and Green Lantern. And Green Lantern was next to the coffin, crying.

I went up to him, and asked him what was wrong.

GreenLantern : Manhattan’s dead, you fucking retard.

Me: Yeah, but hes been that way for months. Whats wrong?

He looked at me, with tears in his eyes. After a long moment of silence, he finally uttered the right words.

GreenLantern : I cant get over it, .

Me: Well, so cant I, and I missed the fucking ceremony.

GreenLantern : Fuck, .

The heaviest silence fell upon the cemetary, with our dead superhero buddy next to us. Almost as if he wasn’t the most silent one out there. When I had an idea.

Me: Lets fucking bury him.*

Green Lantern stopped crying.

What the fuck are you talking about? he said in amidst of a chuckle.

Me: Lets bury Manhattan. He would have loved it. Come on man.

GreenLantern : Oh, thats so fucked up.

Me: Yeah, but he was.

GreenLantern : Youre right.

So thats how me and my buddy ended up shoveling dirt with our barehands upon the coffin of our dead friend, grieving in about 15 minutes.”

18. Craigslist and His Best Friend’s Dad

“I posted an ad on craigslist looking to give some oral services to ‘Dl/Married Men’ after talking to one of the guys who answered my ad, he seemed sane so I gave him the address to my apartment. Turns out when I opened the door, it was my best friend’s dad. We both acknowledged this event. I still went to town on him. My best friend is the oldest of 3 boys and the family is “Happily Married” fuck. I am scum.”

19. “Female Badass”

“I have the image that I’m a ‘female badass’ when I show everyone how proud I am that I’m single and that I don’t ever want to get married and have kids. Deep down, I would love to have a wedding and start a family. I just know that no one will be able to deal with me. I was in a physically and verbally abusive relationship, and I wake up screaming from my nightmares in the middle of the night. I don’t trust anyone, and I know that others would rather find someone else. But I’m going to keep letting others think that I’m happy being single.”

20. This Guy Will Steal Your Girl

“My brother was trying to get with this girl. But for some reason her and I hit it off one night when he wasn’t around. We just got along really well, it was very natural. I never intended on stealing her from him because I was seeing another girl. Eventually my brother started dating her but she abruptly broke up with him about two months later because I knew she couldn’t stand being around me all the time when I was the one she liked.”

21. Lied About The Abortion

“A three month fling and I had a pregnancy scare after he ended things with me, citing that he ‘wasn’t ready for a relationship’. He had spent a week trying to convince me to have an abortion, even before I found out there was no baby to abort. A few weeks later, I found out he was in a relationship with someone else, whose Facebook profile picture looked like it was taken on his couch and posted at a time when he and I were still together. Being the unstable and jilted person I was years ago, I convinced him I had lied about not being pregnant and actually had an abortion. He and the girl broke up a few days later.”

22. Burying the Hatchet

“So I was 17, horny as can be. I like butt stuff…like a lot. I wasn’t 18 so I couldn’t buy a dildo (when I turned 18 I used my bday money to buy one…another slightly sad thought). I was jonesing for something in my butt. I had tried a sharpie, a few fingers, there were sadly no cucumbers or anything similar nearby either. Then, a thought comes to me as I scan my room. My eyes meet my Great-grandfathers hand carved axe. The handle is shaped rather penis like, the end is like a dick-head, and almost a foot long! It has a carving on it of my Great grandfathers initials. I’m thinking…owch. It’s remarkably smooth, I wouldn’t get a splinter even if I tried, but the intials look rough on the ass. I shuffle for the free condoms I got handed to me at a recent festival I went to. This should make it a little smoother, right? I lube it up with Vaseline after covering it with a condom, and take it to pound town on myself. It was pretty nice, 10/10. Now I have it sitting in my room, 4 years later. It’s mine now since my grandfather passed and every time I see it I think of the night my 100 year old family heirloom pounded my ass as I busted the greatest nut my pure gay teen heart had known thus far.”

23. Trophy Wife

“I went to a rock concert with my uncle and his son. My uncle convinced me that the only way I would get in is if I pretended to be his wife, I had to wear a wedding ring.

My uncle was in his mid 40’s and I was 16. I didn’t understand why I had to be his wife but I went along with it cause I really wanted to see this band.

My uncle didn’t really pull any moves but he saw a couple of his old college friends and actually introduced me as his wife. He was still married to his actual wife. The weirdest part was my cousin, his son, was two months older than me.

Now that I’m older I kinda realized that my uncle played me because he wanted to have some young, hot trophy wife to show off to his friends. Kinda embarrassed I never realized that until two years later. Borderline incest, however he isn’t my blood-relative. His actual wife is my blood-relative.”

24. Holding It

“Ok. I can’t believe I’m actually about to type this because it’s so insanely embarrassing. In high school I did competitive speech competitions. When I was a junior, I finally made it to state for monologue. I only found out that I had made it to state the Monday before the competition because I was first alternate which meant if one of the competitions couldn’t make the competition then I would get to go to state. Since I found out so late notice, it was only my theater teacher and I at the competition and she had to go judge other rounds. The competition was at University of Oklahoma. So I was this little high school girl all alone on this gigantic college campus. I was terrified.

The way the competition went was that you had to perform three rounds over the course of two days and they would take your scores from all three rounds. It was the last round of the first day and I had to pee so bad. We were sitting there waiting for the third judge to come in so we could start. The judge was about thirty minutes late. I was sitting there having to pee and terrified that if I got up to go, the judge would come in and they would start without me. Right as I was about to muster the courage to get up and go use the restroom, the third judge walks in and they start the round. I performed second but there were still four performing after me (each performance was about 6 minutes long). Finally the last person gets up to perform and I’m freaking out in my head cause I can’t wait to get up and pee. The guy that was performing was insanely hilarious. I don’t remember what he said, but at one point he made me laugh so hard that I literally pees my pants. Not just a little pee, I let it all out. I remember looking around the room to see if anyone noticed. They didn’t. Somehow when the round was over, I managed to get up and throw my jacket around my waist and rush out before anyone noticed what I did.

I was so embarrassed. I always wondered if anyone ever noticed when they went to clean the room. The next year when we went to state, my teacher said there was a new rule that before any of the competitors left the room, the judges had to check it was clean because someone the year before peed all over the floor. When my teacher told us that, my whole class cracked up laughing at how ridiculous you would have to be to pee all over the floor. They had no clue it was me.”

25. The Fake Boyfriend Becomes Real

“I pretended to have a long distance boyfriend for 3 years when I was 13, until 16. Everyone else had boyfriends, and I got asked out only by weirdoes. I picked a good name and a good school for him, created lots of memories. I lived in a high school dorm during two years of this fake relationship, and every night I pretended to talk with him on the phone. I was pretty good at lying too. I even cheated on this fake boyfriend with a really great guy, and told the real one I felt guilty and broke up with him. I was fucked up, and I hated myself, but continued it anyway.”

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from 25 Men And Women Confess To The Darkest, Most Absurd Secrets Theyve Never Told Anyone Before

#25 Men And Women Confess To The Darkest #Most Absurd Secrets Theyve Never Told Anyone Before

[ritikabhateja]

Dec 30th 2016 8 P.M.

Sister: What are you doing for New Year’s?

Me: I haven’t really decided yet. I have my office tomorrow, perhaps party with people from the Office. You got plans?

Sister: Yes I’d be celebrating with Kanav’s Family.

(For people who are not familiar with the name, Kanav is my to-be brother-in-law.)

Me: Wow! Sounds great! Have fun.

Dec 31st 2016 2PM

Me: Guys, what are you doing for New Year’s? Let us go somewhere?

Naren: I’ll be partying with my roommates.

Suraj: I have to come to the office tomorrow, so I don’t have any plans as such. I’d go with Harish, take a shot or two and sleep.

Manyu: Nothing much. My girlfriend has demanded for a party as most of her friends are going. So, I’ll be taking her somewhere. Let’s see. Anyway, I don’t understand one thing, tomorrow, if all her friends start using the salutation ‘Dr’, will she also start doing the same?

Me: Nevermind (he could have created his own PKP saga)

Nayan: I’m going to my cousin’s place in Rohini.

**Everybody is doing something, they all got plans. What the hell am I going to do? Why on Earth do I not have plans ready, ever? **

Before any of you have any second thoughts, let me replace the doubts with clarity.

It’s not that people didn’t ask me for the New Year’s Eve, many did but I refused. My refusal was based on two grounds;

First, I am not really a good friend with them that I give them a passing score of 5+ on the scale of 0-10 in terms of reliability and safety. Second, I just didn’t feel like going with them. I suppose, that’s a reason good enough.

With my eyes staring at the walls and sliding down to the Laptop screen, and thoughts swirling, in fact, eventually storming inside my head, one thing was certain; I wasn’t even tad bit sad or gloomy. I was in a perplexed state, trying to figure out a way of the ‘What will I do’ dilemma; but even if I had to spend the New Year’s Eve alone at my PG, I was fine with it. I was absolutely comfortable with the thought of not having anything to do on New Year’s Eve and it didn’t invoke anger or anxiety in me. I was cheerful and contended; maybe it was supposed to be one of my happy days and not amongst the ones when my mood sits on a seesaw and abashedly slides up and down, exploring the extremes of mysterious island.

Throughout the day was filled with laughter, and excitement of the weirdly complicated year ending and a new journey on the verge of beginning.

Note: New Year’s Eve Celebration Images are shared at the bottom

Dec 31st 2016 6.45 PM

Everyone started to wrap things up to rush to their New Year parties. I was in no mood to leave early, so I continued my work until the phone beeped.

*One New Message*

Himanshu: What’s your plan for the evening?

Me: Nothing just sitting in the office.

*Message Received*

Himanshu: Why don’t you come with me?

Me: To where?

*Phone Ringing*

Himanshu: Hey, will figure out something. You’ll have a wonderful end to the year, you have my word. Chalo?

Me: Okay. I’ll take an hour’s time as I am still in the office.

Himanshu: I’ll come to pick you up. Be ready by 8.

NOTE: Again, for the ones who don’t know Himanshu (name changed), he’s the most reliable man I know. Therefore, there were no second thoughts.

I wound up all the work and rushed to my place. In a jiffy, I washed my face and the search for the answer to “What should I wear” began. Replicating the same Scenes as Bollywood shows, I found myself digging through my cupboard and throwing the clothes, though not on the ground, but on the bed. Finally, I found the perfect LBD (Little Black Dress). All dressed up and dolled up, I wore the LBD with Boots and Overcoat, along with my favorite Fuchsia Pink Lip color.

Dec 31st 2016 8P.M.

*Phone Ringing*

Himanshu: Hey, I’m downstairs. Are you ready?

Me: I’ll be there in 5minutes.

I walked downstairs and stepped out the main gate. Himanshu was waiting outside his car with his face on the opposite side of me.

Me: Hey, unlock the door.

Himanshu: Hey, you are so dressed up and dolled up. You look so pretty.

Me: Thanks *blush*

Started our journey on the unromantic, brimming roads of Gurgaon to find a place that could accommodate us in the rush hour of the last date of the year. Travelling through the roads of Sector 17 to Sector 30 and then, finally entering the jam-packed roads of Sector 29, we were pretty certain that we won’t get a parking spot. Thanks to Himanshu’s driving and parking skills, he nailed the spot, just right.

Dec 31st 2016 8.30 P.M.

Himanshu: Will you be able to walk till the market? It’s a few steps away.

Me: Of course. I’m not in heels.

Himanshu: I mean you are wearing a dress, anyway.

Me: Don’t worry. Let’s go.

Ten minutes after entering market, we found ourselves hopping different clubs with the motive of being able to hit upon one that could serve us with good food, good booze and good music. After taking almost half a round, we shortlisted two – The Factory and Sasural. Those of you who have been to Sector 29 would understand the contrasting options we had. With countless thoughts and discussions, we obviously made the wrong decision. Yes, Sasural it was. Since, it was a pre-paid entry we had no choice but to stay there. The first thought that came to me was “It is exactly like aj mere yaar ki shadi hai”. There was an indoor floor and also an outdoor one, which was indeed the element that triggered our decision in favor of Sasural.

The music was strictly Bollywood. No, wait. It was accompanied by the Bhojpuri ones. Let me list a few songs to give you an unmistakable picture of my excitement on the dance floor:

Tune Maari Entriyaan toh dil me baji ghantiyan

Munni Badnaam hui Darling Tere Liye

The Lipishtik Song – Jab lagawe tu lipishtik, hillela saara district

And the epic, Tinku Jiya

There were Punjabi songs playing as well. Considering my Punjabi background, and my incessant enthusiasm for dancing, this had been the craziest dance party ever, although, I feel Tinku Jiya could have been omitted from the playlist. Nevertheless, I was enjoying thoroughly.

From decent boys seeking the pleasure to dance with me to putting down their offers, exchanging eye-contacts with the NSPs (Nain Sukh Prapti) to shouting and dancing my life out on the most hysterical dance numbers ever, I felt absolutely elated with every single part of the evening. It was turning out to be a great end to the year, plus it was the first time in 22 years that I was partying outside on New Year’s Eve.

Happiness is partying on New Year’s Eve

Dancing As Hell!

Just Posing!

Who cares about the Broken Goggles?

We kept hopping into the indoors and outdoors of Sasural party zones, laughing at some and adoring others for their fanatical drunk behavior. The dinner was delicious and so was Gajar Ka Halwa. We were on the dining tables when the countdown began.

Among the countless screams and yells, I heard 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!

Everyone started to exchange greetings in the forms of hugs and kisses. Himanshu and I hugged and wished each other a happy journey for the New Year. We ran to the dance floor as it was supposed to be the last song of the night, “Bappu Zamindar” it was.

I called my sister and parents and wished them a beautiful year 2017. Himanshu dropped me home at 12.40 A.M. I was so drained out that I rushed to the room and slept.

It was the most perfect end to the New Year’s Eve.

      This Was Just The Perfect New Year’s Eve Dec 30th 2016 8 P.M. Sister: What are you doing for New Year’s? Me: I haven’t really decided yet.

#Happy New Year #New Year 2017 #New Year Bash #New Year&039;s Eve #Perfect New Year Celebration #Perfect New Year&039;s Eve #Ritika Bhateja New Year Fun #Ritika&039;s new Year Celebration