#can you tell my therapist hasn’t talked to me in months ???

[zjpg]

idk if this is trauma-dumping. it might be so this is your warning ig lol. (mentions of weight (a lot), death, being left out, mean friends? idk it’s a lot i’m just ranting.)

EDIT. THIS IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF TRAUMA DUMPING AND TURNED OUT TO BE LONGER THAN EXPECTED I NEEDED TO LET SOME SHIT OUT.

idk why but i kinda realized that my personality is solely based off of my friends. like. idk. and i don’t necessarily enjoy my personality. i feel like i’m mean, annoying etc. and i think i realized this when i stayed away from my friends for a while. i went and loved with my grandparents for a while and i have like a completely different personality.

i just try to match my friend’s personality, or maybe it whoever i’m talking to or hanging out with. cause i’m hanging out with different friends today and tm and i feel different.

i love my friends. but sometimes i just want to be treated and perceived differently. idk i think it’s why i’ve been trying to shift and why i write fanfic. i kinda always dreamed of this main character persona ig. because idk if anyone knows this but i am overweight. i think on the bmi scale i’m borderline obese (which tbf the bmi scale is a piece of shit tbh - coming from someone who to a medical class for the last two years)

but yeah i’ve never been the skinny pretty friend. if you’ve ever heard the song “fat funny friend” that was basically me throughout my school years tbh. and in elem and middle school i had some friends that definitely gave me trauma because of how they treated me.

now my current friends are just kinda mean, maybe it’s more of one specific friend who i’ve had trouble with in the past. idk around her i can never just feel good about myself. and it’s clear that since i’ve last seen her, her values have changed. and idk it’s kinda hard to come to terms with that because we’ve been best friends for so long. i spent the entire pandemic with her (we literally lived together tbh. like if she wasn’t at my house i was at her and we couldn’t survive 24 hours without each other)

again it’s just sad to feel like i’m less than. esp having like, she struggles with her body image too. which i feel like most people do and that’s okay, and she is skinnier and i feel like if most people would see her they would compliment her for her body. nonetheless it’s very normal and acceptable for her to dislike her body. sadly it’s normal at least (because of unrealistic beauty standards) however. whenever she’s around me and our other friend (who’s smaller than me but still considered plus-mid-size? which we have talked about together many times because can understand each others struggles) anyway the first friend will always make comments like “i feel/look morbidly obese” “i look fat” etc. and again it’s valid to feel that way but at the same time when i (again borderline obese) look at myself and then her and she says that. i literally wanna crawl in a whole and never show myself to the human eye again

idk if that makes me sound like a bitch or selfish. but she knows i’m bigger, we’ve talked about it before. and when our other who (who has been working out and trying to better herself and her health) sent results of her past few months of working out, proud of herself. friend 1 came in sending a body pic of herself in workout clothes says she looks fat and i got so she has to go work out (or something like that) and that’s upsetting to us but especially friend 2 because she is just trying to be happy about her body but then friend 1 comes in and says that her body isn’t enough and she has to work out even tho her body compared to mine and friend 2 is amazing

and i don’t wanna sound like she can’t have insecurities or she can’t talk to us about her insecurities. she can. we always do (friend 2 and i) but i hate the way she (friend 1) talks about weight. and like. another thing. whenever someone annoys her or makes her mad she calls them fat. usually along the lines of “fat bitch” “fat ugly bitch” and she makes fun of their bodies. even if they have the most perfect body. and ofc with years of friendship, we’ve had times where we didn’t get along and when we were pissed at each other. so it makes me wonder what she has said about my body behind my back.

there was a time kinda recently where i got drunk and friend 2’s party and because of some event with friend 1 that happened in the earlier evening. i said some shit. i was black out drunk tbh, i don’t remember anything. but i remember some stuff. and i feel horrible for saying it. but when friend 1 and i talked about she was like. kinda being mean. which i completely understand. but she wasn’t letting me get my point across. she wasn’t hearing what i had to say. and she wasn’t validating any of my feelings that i clearly have been having for a long time (i never act like that when i’m drunk) and maybe i sound really bad here because i obviously did make a huge mistake that like still keeps me up at night even now (it’s literally 2 am). and i say there and i listened to what she said and i validated every fucking feeling she had just like i always do. but she didn’t care to listen to how i felt that night.

there’s so many instances that has happened to this one friend where she just talks and makes up excuses and demands that you validate how she feels without doing the same back. (because she’s not an angel either) there was a time where we were a group of 4 before we had a falling out with friend 3. and friend 1sts a whole group chat named “besties without lucie(me)” when all 4 of us had a gc called “besties”. and i didn’t know for months until friend 2 called me and told me everything. how they made plans without me had the gc without me. and anytime friend 2 would bring up my name friend 1 would make excuses as to why i “couldn’t come along”. i couldn’t be in their secret gc because i was “too sensitive” and her reasoning for not coming to outings was usually because i “said i was busy” (i was never asked if i wanted to hangout. i found out through snap and life 360 that they were out without me). she even used my aunts passing as an excuse as to why i couldn’t go. even tho when her grandma passed she came over to my house unannounced and me and my mom had to take care of her for days because she was so depressed.

i cried myself to sleep during those times. and because it was around christmas my mom let and my brother open gifts early in order to cheer me up and she would go out and hang out without me. and now i have such bad trust issues with not only that friend group but everyone around me. i hate being left out. i’ve always been left out like my whole life.

idk i just. i want nice people around me. i want people who validate me and my feelings and i want to be included for once in my life.

#just ranting #can you tell my therapist hasn’t talked to me in months ??? #i just needs to let my feelings out somewhere #ignore this if you want #tell me if i’m wrong about something #educate me ?? #ranting

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.

I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.

This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)

My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.

But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.

So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.

My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.

My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.

I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)

It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.

After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.

My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)

I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.

I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.

#aita #am i the asshole

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

Whew! I don’t think I’ve written this much in such a short amount of time ever in my life. The boys deserve a soft ending, I think. Enjoy!

-

It goes like this. While Eddie's been lost in his own mind, his body was living. Sort of.

Top secret government assisted living, kinda living. For a secret government hospital one would think the place would be fancier or something but it's just a regular looking hospital.

Eddie's in therapy, both for his body and mind.

He learns that the voice he heard when Eleven helped pull him from the depths of his mind was Mike Wheeler of all people, and he sounds different because he's nineteen and in college. Mike mocks him on graduating before Eddie. He regrets it when Eddie gets him into a headlock.

-

He gets to meet Eleven, outside of his mind. And he starts calling her El. Part of him can't stop thinking about Eleven as the entity he thought was going to lead him to the great beyond.

She is just a person. Sorta.

Dustin had told him there was a girl with superpowers and Eddie is glad she's real. Not that he thought Dustin would lie about this (actually, he might have thought Dustin was lying just to give him some weird version of a pep talk. Everything said before going through Watergate was suspect if he's honest).

-

When he's finally well enough to be able to leave, Doctor Owens tells him their plan.

They're gonna convince Wayne to fly to Tennessee. Eddie, El, and Mike Wheeler are gonna be flown there, too. There's a place for them to stay, to meet up with his uncle in private.

They'll stay there a month. Doctor Owens knows a doctor who can do Eddie's final evaluations before he can really go home.

That's the real kicker.

Hawkins fucking sucks. Small town, narrow views, non-conformity gets you called a Freak in the same way his Dad used to call him a fag. Like he said, fucking sucks.

But it's also the sanctuary he escaped to when he was eleven years old. It's the place where his uncle built a home for him.

So, back to Hawkins first. He can always go somewhere else later. Maybe a coastal city. See the ocean.

-

Eddie hasn't been afraid of a reaction from his uncle since that day in the hospital parking lot after he caught Eddie making out with another guy. He's got that same fear inside now, though, knowing that when El opens that door, he'll see the family he feels like he abandoned. It's not fair to himself to think that, his therapist would say, but he's allowed to have crazy thoughts right now. He's come back from being (not)dead and gets to see Wayne again for the first time. Knowing his feelings are justified doesn't make them fade, though, so he's not surprised his voice shakes when the door finally opens. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne takes less than two seconds to reach Eddie, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

It's all Eddie can do to remain upright and hug him back, clinging to his shirt like he's eleven years old again.

-

Wayne gives him an overview of what he's missed after the Upside Down came into their world (he heard that part from El and Mike, against the better wishes of Doctor Owens). Learns that Wayne and Steve live in Steve's childhood home because his parents just gifted it to him, apparently. That Wayne is only part time at the plant now due to an accident he had, and how that sparked his current living conditions.

Learns that Steve and Wayne became close because, unbelievably, Steve Harrington goes to his grave in the cemetery and cleans off graffiti on the regular.

Eddie feels a little hot under the collar because his brain reminds him of a fact he’d heard once; that the author of Frankenstein lost her virginity on her mother’s grave and a little voice in the back of his head whispers that it'd be hot for him to do the same thing with Steve on his own grave.

He has to scamper to the bathroom to scold himself in the mirror because he cannot be having these kinds of thoughts about Steve while talking to his uncle!

-

Wayne asks him, the night before their flight, “what’s something you want to do, once everything is settled and life starts to feel normal again?”

“I wanna go on a vacation. Like, a real, bona fide, family vacation.”

“Where you wanna go?”

“Think I’d like to see the ocean.”

Wayne smiles softly. “Alright. When you feel ready for it, we’ll go.”

-

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says randomly, as they wait to board their flight to Indianapolis.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie feels breathless at just the thought. It's certainly not helping that stupid crush he's been harboring for years, knowing how Steve’s been treating his uncle. It was one thing to watch Steve defend Jeff that one time in high school; it's an entirely different ball game knowing he's watched over his uncle with care and devotion for years. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie's brain screeches to a halt because he was didn't think anything he'd just said would give him away. He can't even think of a reply good enough to throw his uncle off his trail. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles.

No. No, Eddie thinks, of course you could take one look at me and know. His uncle had been able to know everything about him so effortlessly. But Eddie doesn't have to answer, so he won't. “So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington? Will he… be okay with me being there?”

“Yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all," Wayne sounds so sure, so convinced, that Eddie is too.

Eddie smiles, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind as he imagines getting to eat at the same dinner table as Steve fucking Harrington. He doesn't even mind that Wayne gives him a look at says 'you are being so obvious right now' because he is. He knows he is. He's allowed to be. Wayne's not going to mock him for his crush.

-

On the drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins, Wayne tells him the lie he told Steve. Apparently, Steve thinks Eddie's dad is coming to stay for a while. The mere thought of that sets Eddie on edge, even though he knows Wyatt Munson's still in prison. Will be for a long time, with the list of shit they got him for.

They roll into Hawkins shortly after, and while Eddie may have not been in Hawkins the last five years, and he's willing to admit that things might have changed things up since they did have to rebuild a lot of the town, he's certain that Steve's house is on the other side of it. “This isn’t the way to the Harrington house."

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed," Wayne says. It's still pretty jarring to hear Wayne talk about Steve like this. Like he knows him. Which, he does, obviously, because they've gotten to know each other.

Still mind blowing to think about.

“The cemetery?” is what comes out of his mouth, though.

Wayne knows what's he's really meaning to ask, though, because he shrugs and says, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once." The car is slowing down, and Wayne is pointing out the front windshield, to a figure crouched down near a lone headstone. "Ah. See, there he is.”

Steve. He's too far away for Eddie to be sure sure but if anyone is still wearing bright polo shirts tucked into light wash jeans this far after leaving high school, it'd be Steve Harrington. Eddie's not even sure the car is fully stopped when he all but falls out of it.

He doesn't run to greet Steve, because that's a bit dramatic, but he's not too proud to admit he might be power walking. He slows down when he gets closer, coming to a full stop just close enough to hear Steve talking to his grave. Talking to him.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom," Eddie says, and almost instantly cringes because Wayne literally just told him to start with good news and he didn't. Eddie doesn't have much time to soak in his embarrassment, though, because Steve whips around so fast that Eddie's dizzy from the movement.

Steve looks older but it's in the way people who have seen more than their fair share of Hell look older, and less about actual aging. His eyes are wide and stunned. Eddie watches as his jaw moves but no words come out. He looks like he's seen a ghost which... ok, that's fair.

"Umm," Eddie says, a little worried he's broken him when Steve doesn't even seem to be blinking as he stares at Eddie. "Good news, Steve. I, uh, I lived. Kinda. El kinda pulled me back to the surface of my mind, or whatever, and Owens did a good job at patchin' up the goods here," he gestures to his whole body with a sweeping motion of his hand and wishes that a gate to the Upside Down would open beneath his feet and suck him back to Hell because could he be any more embarrassing?

"A-are you," he watches as Steve swallows and takes a deep breath. He's still not sure Steve has blinked yet. "real?"

"Yeah," Eddie nods, taking a few steps closer, "yeah, I'm real. I'm here and alive and real."

Steve launches himself forward then, meeting him halfway. It's so goddamn surreal be witness to how tenderly Steve actually reaches out to him, though, such a contrast to the flurry of movement he'd been just a second ago. Eddie stays still as Steve lifts shaking hands to cup his face with, pushing against his cheeks as if to test whether or not Eddie is solid. Those hands slide down, along his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms where Steve seems to need to pause and collect himself again, hands wrapped loosely around his arms just below his elbows while Steve shuts his eyes and a low, broken sound pulls itself from his throat before his eyes open again, wet with tears, and he releases Eddie just long enough to throw his arms around his neck and pull him into a hug almost as crushing as the one he shared with his uncle.

It's overwhelming in this moment. To see how much he means to Steve and not fully understand how he came to mean anything to him at all.

Doesn't stop him from wrapping his own arms around Steve's waist, though.

-

It goes like this.

He gets his own room at Harrington's house. Wayne has his own room, too. How strange it is, to not have his uncle sleeping the day away on the couch because the trailer had one room and he'd given it to Eddie.

They adjust to living together so seamlessly. Like they were always meant to be family.

They have dinner together. Real homecooked meals. Which isn't a novelty for Wayne and Steve anymore, but Eddie's memory ends five years ago, when his dinners consisted of microwavable meals or left over snacks from lunch. Wayne cooks on the days when Steve works, and Eddie helps. Gets to be taught how to cook.

For a while, Eddie is afraid to leave the house. Even knowing that Jason Carver bit the dust the same day he was supposed to also doesn’t help. He only goes places with Wayne and Steve, and even then, the double takes people send his way are enough to make him want to shrink into himself.

However, no one says anything to him. He's vaguely aware that everyone here lived through some sort of miniature apocalypse and maybe that's the kind of thing that has to happen to make a small town in Indiana change.

-

He and Steve dance around each other. He can feel it. There is something here, between them, that neither fully acknowledges.

He tries to talk to Wayne about it, but he won't give him much to go on.

"I won't be the one to say anything about what Steve thinks of you. That's gotta come from Steve. I will say this. He's waiting for you to bring it up first."

"Why does it have to be me?"

"He's had five years to gather his thoughts and emotions," Wayne levels him with a Look, "you gotta have the time to figure yourself out, too."

Well, fuck.

-

Steve waits until it's almost summer break for the kids (they’re not really kids anymore, though, but Eddie’s adjusting to that still) to ask if he's ready to face them. "It'll be a lot to handle," Steve says as he sits next to Eddie on their couch (their couch. He can't believe that's a truth in his life right now). "Eleven and Mike haven't told anyone yet, but they want to. It wasn't just Wayne and I that grieved for you."

"I know," Eddie says, "I know. I'm good. I'm alive and here and I want them to know about it."

Steve nods slowly, not fully focused on Eddie. Eddie's come to know that means he's thinking, so Eddie waits for him to speak. "Would you prefer to meet with everyone... one at a time?"

"What's the other option?"

"Well, I always host a barbeque when they all come back. Could tell everyone all at once. Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

Eddie crooks a smile because he's a bit mischievous and his mind instantly plays a scene where he walks into a backyard full of all the people he's come to care for, and who care for him, and he's trying to best to be casual about it in this fantasy. "Yeah. Let's do the barbeque thing."

-

"Bad news, Stevie," Eddie whispers as he leans against the wall next his closed door, trying not to hyperventilate. "I don't know if I can do this."

Steve reaches out and takes one of Eddie's hands in his own, linking their fingers like it's a casual thing they do all the time when it's most certainly not. "Good news, Eds. You don't have to. We didn't tell anyone you're here. You can stay in your room until they're gone, and we'll figure out another way to tell them."

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and thinks he might be crushing all the bones in Steve's hand with how hard he's clenching it. "What if they're mad at me?"

Steve understands the real question Eddie is asking, the one he doesn't know how to phrase. "You were dead, Eds, and no one out in that yard is going to be 'mad' about any time they'd spent grieving over you. There's gonna be a lot of tears, man, like a lot. Maybe even some shouting. None of it done in anger."

"How're you sure?"

Steve lifts his unoccupied hand and cups Eddie's check. Steve’s eyes are watery and his voice is a bit choked, but he says, "because I was there. I saw them through their grief. Everyone in the backyard either loves you already, or they will."

It's so fucking intimate, how close they are, how tenderly Steve touches him. Wayne had said he'd need to take the first step, so he blames Wayne when he blurts out, "what about everyone in this room? They love me, too?"

Steve's eyes go wide in surprise before his whole face lights up in a way Eddie has never seen before. It makes Steve look younger, less haunted, and then Steve whispers, "of course I love you," like there is no other answer Steve could have given.

Eddie grabs a handful as Steve's polo shirt and pulls him close enough to kiss.

Butterflies and fireworks erupt within Eddie. Kissing Steve is so much better than he's ever let himself imagine. They're still holding hands and Steve's still got his other hand resting so softly on his cheek and Steve's lips are kinda chapped but fuck does the briefest touch of their lips together make Eddie lose all his breath.

It's not deep, or all consuming. There's not even an exchange of tongue. Steve kisses him softly, gently, pulls back to pepper little kisses all over Eddie's face that has him blushing more than he's ever done in his life, and Steve places one, two, three more kisses to his lips before pulling back to look at Eddie like he's the answer to every prayer Steve's ever had. It makes his knees weak.

"I think," Eddie pauses to lick his lips, "I think I'll be brave enough to do it if you're holding my hand."

"Just try and pry yourself away, Munson," Steve teases. "Whenever you're ready."

-

Steve was right about the tears and shouting. He was also right that no one is mad at him.

Dustin hugs him so hard they fall over in the yard and Eddie finds himself part of a dog pile that starts with crying that turns into laughter that leads back into crying, everyone grabbing at him and him grabbing back.

It's emotional. It's overwhelming. It's the best fucking day of Eddie Munson's life.

-

Doctor Owens reaches out towards the end of summer to let him know they're issuing him a new social security card. Eddie asks if he's allowed to change him name. Owens says yes.

-

"Bad news first, Eddie," Eddie says to himself as he kneels in front of his own headstone. "You've become so boring and normal, no one vandalizes your grave anymore. Good news, though. Means I can do it myself."

Before him is his headstone, a thick red line painted through his death date. Another more carefully applied line is struck through his middle name. Above it he's painted in block letters 'Wayne'.

"Eddie, come on! This road trip's gonna start without you," Steve calls from where he's leaning against the side of Wayne's pickup.

Eddie is satisfied with his work, so he abandons the paint and returns to the pickup. He slides across the bench seat, one leg pretzeled under himself to be out of the way of the gear shift. Steve follows in after, shutting the door and reaching for Eddie's hand automatically.

He's got Wayne to his left, Steve to his right, and the first family vacation he's ever taken in his life ahead of him.

Good news, Eddie Wayne Munson. Maybe everyday going forward can be the best fucking day of your life.

#steddie #my fic #bad news first eddie #its complete!!! #thank you for all the wonderful comments #i tried to tag everone so im sorry if i missed you!

[smilesstyless]

Needing you

Summary: Harry and y/n had an huge argument and they broke up. Y/n is worried about him because of his depression

Pairing: singer!harry x fem!reader

Wordcount: 959

Trigger warnings: angst, depression, mention of depression

A/N I was listing to little freak last night and it popped into my mind

Harry was thinking about her all the time, he made a mistake and now he realizes that. He wants to be with her, but he messed up.

He’s lying in his bed and thinking all day about her. Every song he writes is about her. He tries to let her go but he can’t. He needs her in his life. Sarah told him it was a mistake to let her go.

She brought light into his dark days full of depression and anxiety. She was good for him, she made him less nervous before a show or an interview. Since he broke up with her, he is in such a dark place. He got stronger medicine for his depression, if he is honest he doesn’t take them. He lies in bed and waits until this day is over, he can’t do this without her. Sometimes he writes or plays guitar but it doesn’t help that he always thinks about her. He can’t let her go.

He’s thinking about her.

Sarah made him dinner; he hasn't touched it in days. “Talk to her, call her, h. You’re not fine,” she tells him. She misses the old Harry who made dad jokes and who was happy she misses the happy guy who loves kids more than anything in the world.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, “took my medicine,” he mumbles.

“Don’t lie about the medicine, they are—”

“Shut up,” he raises his voice at her. Sarah flinches as he raises his voice at her. She barely heard him yelling at anyone, he’s at his worst right now. He doesn’t listen to her, he listens to nobody except y/n.

“Harry I’m just suggesting that you have to talk to her, she will miss you too,” she just wants him to talk to y/n or anybody else it doesn’t really matter about the break up. She just wants him to talk, she doesn’t want him to eat everything into himself.

But she isn’t doing well. She pretends it’s fine they broke up. She cries herself to sleep every night she hates to be without him. She just wants to lie in his arms and cuddle with him. In the day she looks happy and at night she cries so much until she is asleep.

She knows about his depression and it makes her worry about him. In winter it’s always worse and she takes care of him every day until it is the first day of spring. She made him dinner, she gave him his medicine. When she found out he threw them out they had a huge argument and he told her it wouldn’t work. So he broke both of their hearts. Sometimes she just wants to call him and check on him. Which she does but he never picks up, she guesses his phone is dead.

Today is one of those days she calls him and he doesn't answer. It made her worry even more. It's been over a week since he charged his phone. She grabs her keys and drives over to his place. She wants to make sure he is okay.

It’s been almost a month since they talked.

She opens the front door and closes it quietly. She sneaks upstairs into his bedroom. He is lying in his bed, he hasn't changed since the fight so she assume hasn’t showered in two weeks.

“Harry,” y/n breathes out. He turns around and sees her standing in the doorway. She puts her stuff away and sits down on his bed.

“Hi,” on his lips is a short smile.

“How are you feeling?” She is going through his messy, greasy hair. Harry rests his head on her thighs.

“Now a bit better,” he whimpers. “I’m sorry,” he sobs out.

“Don’t apologize, can you tell me which color you’re feeling?” They talked with his therapist about the colors. She suggested the color thing and it helps them a lot. Harry doesn't see a point in it but he answers it. Green is good, yellow is okay and red is bad.

“Red,” he mutters.

“Sunshine, look at me. It was a stupid fight I know you don’t feel well. Wanna eat something?” He nodded his head.

Y/n made him his favorite pancakes with chocolate chips. She came back upstairs with a plate and a glass of water. “Did Sarah made you something?”

“Yes, couldn't eat. I made you worry because I’m sick,” he took a sip of the water.

“Yes, I was scared. It’s okay to be sick, you will get better again,” she kisses his greasy hair.

“Hate that, I can’t take care of you. You always take care of me. I’m supposed to take you out on dates, but instead we sit in my bedroom and watch a movie,” he sips his water. Y/n hands him his medicine out.

“Please,” he swallows them down. “You’re not supposed to take me out. I like staying in with you and watching a movie. Don’t think that,” she kisses the tip of his nose. “I’m so proud of you,” she kisses his knuckles.

“I love you, sunshine.” He calls her sunshine because he brings light into his dark days like a sun. “Do I have to shower?” He mutters under his breath.

“No, but if you like to I would draw you a bath,” she looks at her boyfriend who has a slight smile on his lips. He looks pale and dark bags under his eyes from staying awake all night.

“Tonight, maybe,” he lies down and closes his eyes. The first time in a while he felt like he’s going to be okay. Y/n is here and the world seems fine, he seems fine. He missed her touch.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry fanfic #harry styles #harry angst #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles blog #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles concept #harry styles comfort

[charmingpplincardigans]

How’s everyone doing? I’ll go first, I’m bad!

I have been ~*~struggling~*~ since mid-September and in the last two weeks it has just gotten unbearable. I feel like I’m drowning all the time. I’m having trouble keeping up with and reaching out to people I want to talk to. And that’s like, on top of always having been bad at getting back to people. *stares forlornly at the ask Chaz sent me like, literally two years ago that I think about daily but just. haven’t. RESPONDED TO.*

Things are just. Closing in on all sides unfortunately. I’ve been sick several times. I bounced this month’s rent check. A thing I had NEVER DONE BEFORE IN MY LIFE before this last move. My job is literally never going to pay me what I’m worth. Or anyone what they’re worth, frankly. I broke down in front of my boss the other day and just sobbed for an hour because after I pay my bills every paycheck I have just enough left over to buy groceries for two weeks, if I’m careful, and little else. Which means I’m putting stuff like gas on credit cards, which isn’t helping the debt that makes me feel like drowning in the first place.  I’ve been at this job SEVENTEEN YEARS. A steady, corporate job. And I’ve never once in my entire time there made an actual cost of living raise!! The cost of living just keeps raising without me! (And also everyone else, I know!)

I’m super overdue on getting people the art they commissioned from me, but my brain just hasn’t been in a good enough place to create much of anything, and I keep thinking I have to get this done and then thinking they deserve better than this, around and around on a loop ad finitum. And there are a couple of other things going on personally that just fucking blow that I don’t know how to fix and I’m just gonna choke on it.

I haven’t done any fandom stuff since NYCC. I haven’t written on my WIP. I haven’t read fic. I don’t check in on the madness happening on twitter. I’ve barely popped my head into my favorite pirate group chat over the last five months or so. I miss doing all of that so much and my stupid brain is so broken that even when I try I can’t enjoy it.

Shit. I’m having a hard time getting work work done. I just sit down at my desk every day, answer emails, and then spend five or so hours frozen with anxiety because there’s too much to do and doing nothing is only making it worse every day.

I need to be back in therapy ASAP, but unfortunately you can’t eat therapy so I can’t pay for it!!

And I feel guilty saying any of this to almost everyone I would usually talk to. (Congrats and condolences to the rest of you!) Because they’re having a harder time than me. Or because they’d just want to give me a bit of money about it, which would fuck me up even more. Or because it’s just tedious and boring and no one wants to listen to me talk about this over and over again, even though it’s all my brain does every hour of every day. It’s a wonder I’m ever able to talk about anything else.

My boss is pretty great, in spite of it all. She’s constantly supportive (to the extent she can be), and she just. She tells me all the time how creative and wonderful and smart and cool to know I am. And every time I just like, tear up, because none of it feels true. But I also tear up when my friends and my partner say those things too. Because to me, a full grown adult without a savings or a 401K or the ability to like, go get drinks just because I want to, I feel like a complete and utter failure.  So like. Whatever I guess!!

I need to find a new job that pays me way more. Then I can get a therapist to fix my brain and save money to pay down my debts and have money to have fun with my friends and not feel like a constant financial burden on everyone. Then I can have the brain power back to maybe work on my fic or complete that art or like, I don’t know, talk to the people who actively want to talk to me. You wouldn't think that part would be so hard, but it really, really is.

I’m working on it. I’ll keep working on it. I have LinkedIn open right now. I’m gonna fucking sob through it, but that doesn’t mean none of it will get done.

In the meantime, if anyone knows of a good way to make a quick $30 grand, I’m all ears.

#no one cares kl #it's an old-fashioned two am post #at four in the afternoon! #that's how bad things are! #all my shame units are being used so i don't have any to spare #on whether or not i should be messy in public!!!

[snelbz]

Better or Worse {18}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the late post! I had it queued for pm instead of am and just noticed. We’re almost to the end of Nesta and Cassian’s journey of growth, but we hope you’ve enjoyed reading this one as much as we’ve enjoyed writing it!

Almost every counseling appointment we’ve gone to, Nesta has been right there by my side. But Gwyn asked us to meet separately this week and that shouldn’t make me as nervous as it does. I know it’s common for therapists to want to talk to each person on their own, but even at the beginning, even when we weren’t speaking, having Nesta there was a balm to me. I was able to open up and talk about my thoughts, my feelings even if I wasn’t sure how I felt about them.

Now, sitting across from Gwyn, I feel like I’m back at square one. Rather than the usual couch, I’m sitting in an armchair identical to the one she’s in.

Her notepad is resting in her lap, but she doesn’t look down at it. She doesn’t even have a pen. “How are you doing this afternoon, Cass?”

“Good,” I say, but nothing more which makes her smile.

“Nervous?” She asks, not unkindly.

I sigh. “Yeah? Which is weird, right? Because we know each other fairly well by now.”

“True, but it’s not weird, it’s actually common,” she assures me. “You’re not used to doing this alone. It’s a big step.”

There was a time when her tone would piss me off, would make me feel like she thinks she’s talking to a child, but not anymore. I know she’s genuine in everything she says. 

“I guess so,” I agree, and answer her question honestly. “I am good, though. Yes, nervous, but everything has been going really, really good. Great. Nesta and I are, uh, renewing our vows.”

“Oh?” Gwyn asks and she sounds happy about it, which is a good sign. “When?”

“A month. I actually asked her when we got back from our little vacation, after we left here.” I shrug. Since we’ve been doing so well in our marriage, we haven’t been coming to see Gwyn as much. “It felt like the right thing to do. I asked; she said yes.”

“I’m happy for you,” she says, and I know she means it. 

My appointment goes on like that and after a few more minutes I actually start to fully relax. I told her everything, probably oversharing at some points but I can’t help it. I feel like I just fell in love again for the very first time, although this time feels much stronger than that. Nesta and I have a bond that can’t be broken, that can never be shaken again. 

After telling Gwyn goodbye, I head to Nyx’s preschool to pick him up. He’s waiting for me with his backpack on and his lunchbox in hand, and the second I pull up to the curb, he’s jumping up and down. 

“Hey buddy.” I hop out of the truck and give my nephew a hug while ignoring the wandering eyes of his teacher, as usual. She’s at least seventy, I swear, and I have no clue how she hasn’t retired yet.

“Uncle Cass, we learned about bugs today!”

So begins my rundown of his day, right down to his snacks and the lunch Feyre packed for him that morning.

My phone rings as I’m putting my car in park in the garage. When I see it’s Elain, my brows pull together. I love my sister-in-law, and would do anything for her at any time. But she doesn't usually call me. I answer as I round the truck to get Nyx out of his carseat.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cass.”

“Is everything okay?”

Her cheery laughter floats through the phone. “Everything is fine. I was seeing if Nesta was with you. I tried her cell but she didn’t answer and I wanted to get a final decision on the flowers for the ceremony.”

I’m a man of many talents. I pride myself on being knowledgeable about many things. Flowers sure as shit isn’t one of them.

Scratching at my beard, I head into the house, Nyx on my heels. “She had a meeting with Eris and the publishers this afternoon, but should be home around five if you can wait that long.”

I hear the telltale sounds of Nyx dropping his backpack. “Hi, Greg!”

“Alright, I’ll try her then. Thanks!”

We say our goodbyes and I toss my phone on the kitchen counter only to realize the kitchen has become far too quiet. When I turn around, Nyx is nowhere to be found.

Just before I can completely panic, Nyx comes back through the door, crying.

I frown. “What happened, buddy?”

“Greg,” he says, a sobbing mess. “Door…open…Greg.”

He can barely get the words out but I get the gist. With a sigh, I pick Nyx up and pat his back. “It’s okay. Greg gets out sometimes, I’ll find him.”

I set Nyx up on the couch with a juice box and a bowl of popcorn while he watches Bluey before finding myself going around the outside of the house, looking in all the bushes. 

No Greg.

I call his name and all of my neighbors that don’t know me are probably wondering why I’m going around my house, yelling for a Greg, but I ignore any potential neighbor’s judgment. Every minute that passes that I can’t find him, I get worried. Nesta loves this cat like a child. 

And I can’t find him. 

When I finally head back inside, Nyx’s head pokes over the top of the couch. He’s still sniffling as he asks, “Did you find him?”

I hesitate for a second because I don’t want him to worry, I don’t want him to start crying again, and I definitely don’t want him telling Nesta about this. So I decide to go with a little white lie. “I did. He was having fun running around and asked to stay outside a little longer. I told him he could play outside until it gets dark.”

Thankfully, that perks him up and blessedly derails his toddler attention span. “Did you know that lightning bugs come out when it’s dark? And then their butts light up?”

For the rest of the afternoon, I’ve got one eye on Nyx and one on the window at the back deck. On multiple occasions, I run outside with the bag of treats and shake it as obnoxiously as I can.

The damn cat never comes back.

As the clock ticks closer and closer to five, I start to panic. How am I going to tell Nesta I let Greg get out? Better yet, how am I going to keep Nyx from saying something?

Before I can come up with a foolproof plan, the garage door opens and my beautiful wife comes strolling in. She gives me a smile and a kiss on the cheek before asking, “How was your appointment with Gwyn?”

“Fine,” I answer, and as soon as it’s out of my mouth I know that I’ve answered way too quickly. Her joyful demeanor falters and I hesitate, which makes her frown. 

“What?” she asks, and there’s a bite to her voice which I know means I should tread carefully if I want to try and keep the peace. 

“Look,” I say, and take a deep breath. I watch her eyes as they go from angry to concerned to confused. “I…there was...Nyx accidentally…Gre—”

Just as I’m about to say his name, the furry little bastard charges into the room and jumps up on the kitchen island to greet Nesta. My wife momentarily forgets about me and scratches the cat under his chin.

I stare, dumbfounded. “I…what the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Nesta asks, remembering I exist and crossing her arms. “Okay, what did you do?” “Nothing,” I say, and grab her face, bringing her mouth abruptly to mine. She’s surprised for a second, but melts into me as my lips keep moving. 

“Ew!”

We pull apart to look at Nyx, who is standing in the doorway and covering his eyes. When he peeks through his fingers, he gasps. “GREG! I thought we lost you forever! I was soooooooooo scared! Uncle Cass, wasn’t I scared?”

I purse my lips and slowly bring my gaze back to Nesta’s. She’s watching me with narrowed eyes full of hellfire. 

“So, we lost Greg,” I confess, quietly. Nyx doesn’t seem to notice the tension as he grabs the cat off the island and carries him into the living room. I open my mouth to give a long, pathetic story about what happened, but Nesta shakes her head and puts her fingers over my mouth.

“I don’t wanna know,” she says, and her eyes soften. “He’s here, he’s safe, do better next time.” 

I blink, thinking it’s a trap and not wanting to curse it. “Yeah, okay.” Now I’m suspicious. “You’re taking this too well, it’s scaring me.”

She snorts and runs her hands down my chest and bundles my t-shirt in her hands. “I want tonight to be a good night. We’ve been a little stressed lately, planning this wedding so quickly…” She shrugs. “No more stress.”

I feel like there’s something she’s not telling me. Maybe it’s the fact that we’ve been married for a decade, but I feel like something’s off. “Nesta—”

She looks over my shoulder, into the living room at Nyx and Greg snuggling on the couch, then back to me. 

“What?” I ask, and try not to let my worry creep in too far. “What happened? Are you okay? Did Eris piss you off? The fuck did that prick do now—”

“Eris didn’t do anything, for once,” she says, laughing quietly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just…been thinking about something, but I thought we could wait until we’re alone tonight to talk about it.”

I hate that.

I hate when someone says we need to talk, especially my wife, then doesn’t tell me what it is we need to talk about. 

“Now I’m going to spend the entire afternoon worrying about whatever it is you have to say,” I say, keeping my voice low. 

“It’s nothing bad,” she whispers, and leans up on her toes to kiss me. I grab her ass and squeeze for comfort. “Just something I’ve been thinking about. A lot. Come on, let’s make dinner before Feyre gets here to pick him up.” 

And that’s that. I throw together a quick meal of blackened chicken, green beans, and red potatoes, which Nyx devours as if he hasn’t eaten in weeks. More than once, Nesta has to remind him to take smaller bites, but he manages to clean his plate without choking. Nyx regales Nesta with his school day, as well, telling her all about his studies but conveniently forgetting the story he told me about the little girl on the playground who held his hand.

Nesta is in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner, while Nyx and I are on the couch watching Bluey when I hear the door from the garage open. Nyx, engrossed in whatever shenanigans Bluey and Bingo have gotten into, doesn’t notice the quiet greetings or the hushed whispers and murmuring.

But I do.

It sets me on edge, immediately thinking of whatever Nesta wants to talk about when we’re alone. It sends my brain straight into “overthink” mode and I don’t notice that Nyx has said something until he calls my name a second time.

“What was that, bud?”

“I said that daddy said I could get a puppy just like Bluey.”

“Did he now?” Feyre asks, breezing in from the kitchen.

“Mama!” Nyx is off the couch in a flash and crashing into her legs.

His backpack is already slung over her elbow and she lifts Nyx into her arms, hugging his close. “Hi, bub. Ready to go home?”

“Yes! Me and Uncle Cass lost Greg.” Feyre’s smile falters but Nyx charges on. “Don’t worry, mama, we found him.”

We say our goodbyes and promise to see them soon, and when it’s just me and Nesta alone, I can’t control myself any longer.

“So.”

She chuckles as she sits next to me on the couch and turns off Bluey. “So.”

I wait for her to say something but when she doesn’t go on, I throw my hands in the air. “Damn it, Nesta, please just—”

“I think we should look into adoption.” The words rush out of her, quietly. “I think we should adopt.”

Out of all the things I expected her to say, that wasn’t it. I’m at a loss for words.

It’s not until I notice her eyes start to line with tears that I come back, my mind catching up with me.

“You don’t want—”

“I’m just surprised,” I say, before she can worry. “I mean, adoption is…that’s a lot. That’s big.”

“I’m ready to be a mom, babe,” she says, and a tear falls as her voice breaks. “We’ve been ready for a family for so long and I’m accepting that I’m not ever going to have a baby.” I want to protest, but I can’t. “So I thought we could have a baby, or a child, through adoption.”

I’m quiet for a moment, but Nesta doesn’t push me.

Adoption had never even crossed my mind and I’m a little ashamed of myself for not considering it. Growing up in the foster system, how many years did I dream of someone finally deciding I was worth the trouble, of a family adopting me and giving me the happy home I’d always dreamed of. But Nesta wanted to be a mother and I never thought farther than giving her that dream myself, of our child growing inside of her.

Who’s to say the child we’ve been dreaming of isn’t already out there?

“Do you want to quit trying?” I ask, carefully. “To have our own?”

“Absolutely not,” she scoffs, and I can tell she’s trying not to be emotional. She knows my past more intimately than anyone else on the planet. “You think after finally having sex after months of celibacy, I’ll be able to go back?”

I swallow and huff a laugh but stay quiet for a minute, allowing my thoughts to catch up with me. My thoughts that are all over the place. 

“Okay,” I say, quietly, and her tears spill over. I wipe them away, carefully. “After the wedding…we can start the process, if it’s what you truly want.”

“It is,” she says, and there is no doubt. “But is it what you want?”

“A family with you is all I have ever wanted,” I say, and it is wholly the truth. 

I can’t help my own consuming emotion as she kisses me. Every day I don’t know how my marriage can get better, how I can love this woman more, but then I do. I didn’t know this love, this excitement for the future could still be so strong, so evident after ten years.

I’m so ridiculously in love with this woman that I can’t believe it. I show her as much as I lay her down on the couch and take my sweet time with every beautiful, magnificent inch of her body.

We will have our family soon enough, one way or another, and I can’t wait.

#better or worse #nessian bow #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #ACOSF #nessian #snacmc collabs #snelbz x theladyofdeath collab

[cowboy-like-mee]

i wish i could change

summary: depressed! reader and boyfriend! harry

warnings: depression, mentions of wanting to d word

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hello. i am ending my year and a half long hiatus. i am writing this in the midst of a depressive episode, so it is based off real life me rn! it was kinda therapeutic tbh. i feel a lot better after getting this out.  i listened moon song by phoebe bridgers, my tears ricochet by taylor swift, and a different age by current joys on repeat while writing this. have fun!

p.s. i kind hate this :/ i feel like the end is rushed but whatev. i hope you enjoy. i feel like i might want to write more about this couple. i have many ideas also! if you have any requests let me know! or i can post what my ideas are and yall can tell me what you want first!

masterlist

Sitting in the filth of your room never made it any better. But you just couldn’t help it. There were empty bags of chips and dirty clothes everywhere. The floors need vacuuming. The bed hasn't been made in weeks- the fitted sheet isn't even on the bed anymore. You've just been lying on the bare mattress with a blanket covering you that doesn't even reach your feet. The smell of old food and dirty laundry stings your nose every time you breathe in a little too deeply. You needed a shower. There were clumps of your hair sitting next to a pair of scissors on your desk from where you had decided it was a good idea to chop a few inches off at 3 am yesterday. 

You're pretty sure you hadn't been to a single class in at least a month. You were failing only two at the moment, luckily. Last semester it was three. Emails and text messages were piling up in your inboxes. There was no point in setting alarms anymore. You knew you weren't going to wake up anyway. 

You really just missed your mom. You missed her encouraging words and her hugs. Her hugs. Any of your problems were made to be nothing with just one of her hugs. You know she would be beyond disappointed to see the state of your life right now. 

Nothing even happened to make you feel this way. It's just a part of that never-ending cycle of depression that seems to hinder everything you try to do. There are no words to describe what happens in your head when you get like this. No therapist or medication could ever stop this feeling. It's like the weight of the world sits on your chest. You can't breathe. You can't think. You can't move. You can't even provide yourself with the basic necessities one needs to survive. 

You try to tell yourself to get out of this funk, but nothing will help. Nothing has ever helped. 

Well...maybe one thing has.

Harry.

Your boyfriend on two years. The man who has helped you out of funk numerous amounts of times throughout the last couple of years. Of course, you don't always feel like this. It comes and goes. It seems nowadays it mostly comes. It never seems to go. But when it has come, Harry has been there for you. He has fed you and showered you and loved you and kissed you and never ever judged you. 

You feel like a burden. 

No matter how many times he tells you he does it because he loves you. He hates seeing you like that. He wishes he could take all of your pain away. You mean everything to him. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

You don't know why. What kind of man wants a girl who goes four days without showering at times. Or a girl who wakes up at 3 pm because at night her thoughts wander so far she has to hit herself in the head to stop them. A girl who can't just...be normal. 

Either way, you know one thing is for certain. You love Harry. You really do. You probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. He has changed your life. There have been more good moments with him than bad. He kisses you just to kiss you. He watches your favorite movie with you weekly (even though you know he despises it.) He goes out to brunch with your parents because he loves talking to the people who created you. He buys you flowers every time he goes to the market just because he loves to see you smile every time he gives them to you. 

He really was made for you. Nevertheless, you felt like you didn't deserve him. 

You wish you could change. You wish you could change for him. You wish it was easier to be alive. You wish you didn't want to die. For him. Not for yourself. You wish you could be the perfect girlfriend. The girlfriend he deserved, not one that rots away in her room.

Harry walks in. You hear the door to your apartment creak open and gently shut. Footsteps lead into the kitchen, probably putting down the food you know he probably bought for you. You sit up and try to put on your most neutral face. You sniff your armpits and wince a little. It's only been since yesterday morning you showered, but a little deodorant wouldn't hurt. Your door opens letting in light, making your eyes squint and your hand instinctively come up to block it. 

"Y/N?" Harry says. You smile for the first time since you saw him last a few days ago. "Hey, baby." He gives you the softest, pure smile you've ever seen in your whole life. He tilts his head at you with a concerned look on his face. 

"Hi." You croak out, using your voice for the first time in a while. He walks up to your bed and pulls the blanket down to lie with you. You scoot over to make room for him. He climbs in and immediately wraps his hands around you. His face buries into your neck and plants soft kisses along your throat. Your hand goes into his hair and softly brushes through his soft curls. 

He hums. "Mmm, I love you." He kisses you again right on your jawline. "I've missed you, baby. How has my girl been?" Your throat tightens. You're regretting not answering his texts. He's probably been worried. 

You smile sadly. "I love you more, angel. I-" You pause to think of an adequate answer to your disappearance the past few days. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't answered your texts. I've just been...not feeling well. I've missed you too. So much." Your eyes are welling with tears, but your room is dark so maybe he won't notice. 

He pulls back a little to look at your face. His heart breaks. His girl has been feeling bad and he hasn't been here for her. "Oh, honey. It's okay. You know I just want to make sure you're okay." He kisses you sweetly. Your heart swells. He really is perfect. "I brought you dinner. I hope you haven't eaten." He smiles at you.

You laugh wetly. " Eating hasn't really been my number one priority today." 

He frowns, "Y/N, you have to eat, love. It's important to take care of your body." He sits up and grabs your hand. "Come one. Let's go eat and watch Silver Linings Playbook." He pulls you up from your nest. He wraps his arms around you and engulfs you in a hug. Your head rests on his chest and you just breathe in. 

You reach up and kiss him. You will never understand how this man can be so selfless. He really has changed your life. You will love him at your highs, and you will love him at your lows.

#harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfic #boyfriend!harry

[starman-jpg]

Better to Die Numb, Then Feel it All

WC: 1.9K | TW: alcoholism

I have no idea where this idea came from, but 5 hours later, here's this piece.

I actually do not know much about alcoholism. Diane is based off of my own therapist and how she has helped me through difficult times.

This also not beta read, its 1 am, I need sleep. Hope you like this

Title from "Growing Sideways" by Noah Kahan

No one seemed to realize how Steve had changed.

His hair is grown out and hasn’t been styled for months. The bags under his eyes keep getting bigger after every sleepless night. He’s lost a couple pounds and sticks to wearing baggy sweaters and sweatpants. And he drinks. A lot. Even at his peak of high school popularity, he never drank as much as he does now.

Everyone tries to bring it up, but he shrugs them off and redirects the conversation. And every time, the person takes the bait and plays with it. He’s out of the spotlight until it gets brought up again, but he can do the same thing. Over and over again. Works every time.

He knows what he’s doing is unhealthy. But he can’t stop. It’s impossible. 

It all hit rock bottom when he screamed at Eddie. His Eddie. His perfect, beautiful boyfriend, Eddie, merely suggested Steve get help. Steve yelled, trying to convince Eddie (and maybe himself) that he was fine. That he doesn’t need Eddie’s help and he should just leave if he doesn’t want to "see Steve drink himself to death".

So Eddie left and didn’t come back. The days turn into weeks with no response from Eddie.

After a month, he finally reached out for help.

He ended up running to the Hopper-Byers house, sobbing. When the door opened for Joyce, he fell into her arms and begged her to help him. Hopper talked to Owens and got the help Steve needed.

"And now, I’m here." Steve shrugs, picking at his sweater, slowly lifting his head to see his therapist, Diane.

Diane was a sweet lady. She was in her late 40s with shoulder-length, sandy brown hair and a pair of square, black-rimmed glasses.

She smiles sweetly and says, "I’m glad you are here, Steve."

Steve shifts uncomfortably, bringing his knees to his chest. Well, I wish I could say the same." He mutters before realizing she heard that. "Sorry, I-I shou-"

"No, no. Don’t say sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Were you not listening to what I said for the past 15 minutes?"

She softly laughs, saying, Yes, Steve, I heard you. Those things were not great. But considering what you went through in the Upside Down, I can see why that happened."

Steve looks at Diane in shock and says, "Y-you know? About the, uh…"

"Upside Down?" He nods, and she smiles, saying, "Yes, I know. I was one of the many scientists working under Dr. Owens. My focus was more on the psychological effects of the Upside Down. I also happen to be a certified therapist. So, when Dr. Owens asked for my help with an Upside Down survivor, I gladly took it."

"An ‘Upside Down survivor’? Is that what we’re called?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We don’t exactly have the correct term to refer to you all as."

Steve slowly nods, putting his feet back on the ground. "We just call ourselves the ‘Party’ as a whole. But then, if we’re split up, each group has their own name." Steve smiles slightly and says, "Like in 1985, my little group was called ‘Scoops Troop’. Because me and my best friend Robin worked at Scoops Ahoy before—well, y’know."

"I do know." She quickly writes in a notebook before turning back to Steve and asking,  "So, the Party? Tell me about them."

And that’s how these appointments worked. Every Tuesday, he pulls up to Diane’s office and talks to her. About the upside-down and all the head trauma. His fears and his hopes He even talked about his childhood and how his parents were always gone.

Although not all of the appointments were that easy,

He made a deal with Diane. If he could go a week without drinking, she’d tell him one thing about her. (It was weird how he was pouring out his heart and soul, but he didn’t know a thing about her.)

"Steve…" 

"I saw him yesterday when I went to pick up Max for a sleepover." He sniffled. "Max was talking with him, and he looked so happy. And I thought about how I could never make him happy." He sighs, wiping his eyes. "I tried to wave. He turned his back and walked back inside. I dropped Max off, and then I remember being in a bar. Ordering a drink, which turned into two and..."

He can’t stop the tears this time. "I’m sorry. I-I failed. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." He hides his face behind his hands as he sobs.

He hates that he failed. He’s so used to being the screwup, and this one time, he knew he could make it. He only had one more day. He could’ve made it. Even with all the close calls early in the week, he managed to push them down.

He wanted to prove that he could do it.

He needed to prove that he could do it.

"It’s okay, Steve. It’s okay." Diane softly soothes.

"I failed though. I drank." 

"That’s okay-"

"It’s NOT okay! How could you say that?" He yells.

"I did not expect you to win this challenge."

"So, you’ve already given up on me? Fucking great! My own goddamn therapist doesn’t even believe in me." He stands up, pacing the room and biting his tongue. He didn’t want to say anything he’d regret.

"I did not expect it because it’s not that easy. You expected to give up drinking and suddenly be cured? That’s not the problem."

Steve stops, slowly turning around to look at his therapist. "Isn’t that the problem? The drinking? Isn’t that why I’m here?"

"The drinking is how you deal with the problem. And you’re here because you want to be better, right?" He slowly nods, sitting back down on the couch. "Then let's figure out the problem."

---

Steve kept up his appointments. Never missed one.

Everyone could see how he was becoming Steve again. He made amends with the kids and with Robin. He never realized how he pushed her away along with everyone else.

When he showed up on her doorstep, paper in hand, to make amends, he was bombarded with a hug and the gentle sobs of his best friend. His other half His Platonic soulmate with a capital P Steve explains what he’s been going through and how he's getting help.

"I’m 4 months sober, so that's good."

"That’s so good, Steve. I’m so happy for you." She hugs him and doesn’t let go for quite literally hours. They caught up. There were two months without his soulmate; he needed all the details. e

Robin plans a movie night at his house (typical). She invites the kids, the teens, even Hopper and Joyce, who politely decline but still drop off El and Will.

Everyone was there, except Eddie. He wasn’t surprised. If he were Eddie, he wouldn’t want to see him either.

But, of course, Eddie needed to make an entrance. The front door slams open (the door handle definitely leaves a mark on the wall) as Eddie steps in. He’s as beautiful as always. His worn-out Metallic shirt with some black jeans His hair was tied back, showing off his jaw and neck.

Steve nearly forgot how to breathe. How did Eddie still take his breath away?

Everyone greets Eddie with smirks, hoisting up sodas for the kids and beers for the adults.

Steve felt his stomach drop to his feet. He hasn’t kept alcohol in his house for three months now. There was a bottle stashed in the back of his closets "in case of emergency". He threw it out after calling Diane one night during a particularly horrible day.

Robin must sense his discomfort. She grabs his hand, squeezing once before asking Eddie for a soda. Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy Eddie handed out the sodas to the kids with loud pleading from Mike for just one beer, which Nancy was not having.

He hears the familiar sound of a can opening and watches as Nancy takes a sip from her can. He didn’t think this through. He forgot that even though he stopped drinking, that didn’t mean everyone else did as well.

"You want one?" Steve snaps out of his thoughts, turning his head to Eddie holding up a beer can.

Steve stares at the can wantingly.

He knew this was going to happen. Everyone didn’t really notice how bad Steve’s drinking was. They just knew he drank a little more than usual. He should’ve said no alcohol was allowed. He should’ve just told everyone how bad his drinking was, and now he’s sober.

Eddie must take his silence as a yes, because he’s holding out a beer to Steve.

This is it. He’s going to break his sobriety because the literal love of his life is handing him a beer.

Shit. 

He’s going to have to call Diane and explain how much of a failure he was. He can’t even be properly sober.

But she would calm him down and repeat a million times how he wasn’t a failure. He knew that recovery would be hard, but he still decided to do it. And how he’s made it four months now without drinking. And how that is such a big step alone in his recovery. That he did the right thing by calling her.

"Steve?" Robin’s soft voice breaks him out of his thoughts as she gestures to Eddie.

Steve looks over at a confused Eddie, still holding out the beer.

"Oh, um, I’m good."

Eddie has the decency to look surprised as he retracts his arm. "You’re good?"

Steve stops to think. He’s sober. He’s happy. He’s recovering.

He has Robin by his side. And Diane is just a phone call away if he needs her.

He might not have had Eddie. He might never have Eddie again. But he can live with that. Eddie deserves to be happy, and if that’s not with Steve, that’s okay.

He smiles and nods, saying, "Yeah, I’m good."

Eddie smiles slightly at Steve, puts the beer back, and grabs two sodas. Eddie places the drinks down and hands a soda to Steve before sitting on the other couch. Steve looks ahead as the movie starts, but he can’t help stealing glances at Eddie.

And it gets better when he sees Eddie stealing glances himself.

--- 

He told the Party that night about his recovery. That he’s 4 months sober. It’s a tough process, but he’s going to see it through.

The kids hugged him, then unanimously agreed to throw out the rest of the beers. The adults agreed to stop drinking even after Steve’s loud protests that "it’s fine if they drink, just maybe not around him?"

It was a little easier to stay sober after that night.

Months pass. Steve’s still sober. A whole year now.

No one left his side, not once. Not even Eddie.

After 7 months sober, Steve took a chance, asked Eddie out, and was pleasantly surprised when Eddie said yes. They’ve been back together ever since. Eddie is his #1 supporter.

Three months later, Eddie told him, "I love you," and he felt the same spark he felt back then.

One year later, Steve and Eddie move in together in a small house near the trailer park.

Two years later, Steve and Eddie get married. Not officially, but who needs some bullshit government papers when they’ve already been to hell and back with each other?

It hasn’t been an easy road. Recovery never is, but he has Eddie. He has Robin. He has the kids. He has Hopper and Joyce. He’ll be okay.

After all, Steve still sees Diane. Every Tuesday. 

#steve harrington #tw drinking #steve harrington gets help #steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #eddie munson #established steddie #robin buckley #platonic with a capital p #platonic stobin #stranger things s4 #stranger things #post stranger things s4 #steve harrington doesn't take care of himself #drops this and runs away peaking through a bush

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: We Showed The World That We Exist

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC 

Word count: 5.1K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: Kamaria and Walter play hooky to deal with unforeseen stressors.

Chapter warnings: panic attack (dissociation episode), oral sex (f receiving), finger fucking, therapy session, squirting 

A/N: Time jumps in this chapter. We’re only skipping a couple of days but it may be a little jarring. But Yada is back!! Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Cross-posted on AO3

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV

Word has spread like wildfire around the office about me and Walter dating. It didn’t take long at all for news that the grumpy bear of a detective and the new intern are fucking. We actually aren’t even doing that, yet. It’s only been a few days but the rumor mill in the police station is like a damn high school hallway. And I have Nina and Sophie to thank for that.

I swear, no one listens to interns. Like, ever. Unless it is about gossip. And I made friends with the loudest, and the actual kindest, gossipmongers. I know they mean well, they’ve made it clear they are glad that Walter smiles more. I like being the cause of his change of mood, as well.

With everyone aware of our relationship, things are kind of weird. Like, weird around the ex, kind of weird. 

It’s not like Rachel and Walter were super friendly after they decided not to date. Sometimes, and I would never tell Walter this, I feel like he felt for Rachel because she saved his life. A case of transference, perhaps?

But, they at least seemed cordial towards each other. Rachel felt enough of a connection to reach for his hand, the thought still burns in my mind. But Walter and I did have our first kiss after that, so grain of salt, ya know?

Rachel just seems like someone pissed in her oatmeal every time she walks by me. She couldn’t possibly be jealous of me. I don’t get her, honestly. Is it an “if she can’t have him, no one can” thing? Because I wouldn’t have thought she would go for pettiness. Never underestimate a woman on a mission, though. 

Walter and I agree to get to work a bit early so we could hang out in his office until I have to start work. The man may be seen as prickly by most people in the office, but it is like night and day when it comes to me. He can be so thoughtful, and so in tune with my emotions that it can be like he’s reading my mind. Which is both cute and slightly annoying, because I can never hide what I’m feeling. 

Like this morning, for example. My mind has been racing. So many things to think about, from my work to Walter to Rachel to my anxiety about dating openly in the office to what I’m going to choose to talk about in therapy today. And I can’t seem to make it stop or slow down. Which is when I feel a hand on mine. 

I look up to see Walter crouching next to the chair I’m sitting in. I don’t remember sitting down. I barely remember walking into this office.

“There she is,” he says, brushing a hand over my confused brow, “you had me so worried back there.” I notice the fear in his eyes now.

“Sometimes, my anxiety takes over and I just check out,” I mutter, looking around the office, “I remember getting out of my car and kissing you and then nothing until just now.”

“Does this happen a lot?” I hear the tremble in his voice but I don’t mention it.

“Hasn’t happened in months. I can usually sense it before other people can, though. Sort of like a panic attack, but not really because I don’t panic, I just…move? It’s hard to explain,” I ramble on, trying to get my bearings.

“It sounds like your brain is working on autopilot due to stress. I’m no therapist, but I’ve seen how stress can affect people in different ways,” he suggests, holding my hand in his, “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but a new relationship becoming public can be quite stressful. Especially when it’s in a work setting where one person’s ex is also a coworker. It’s no wonder you’re feeling like this.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I can’t deny that it is a lot,” I concede, feeling all sorts of vulnerable.

“You have therapy today around 1, right?” he asks before I nod to confirm, “And where is your therapist’s office?”

“Well, I was going to do it virtually today. But she’s close-ish. Between here and my apartment,” I answer, wondering where this is going.

“I have a suggestion, which you are more than welcome to decline. But, in my head, it sounds like a good id-”

“Baby, you’re babbling,” I laugh, stopping his rant.

“I think you should ask to see your therapist in person. We can take the rest of the day off and I could drive you to the appointment if you’d like,” he urges, “Besides, it’s the weekend. They won’t mind if we skip out a bit early.”

“Skip out early? I didn’t even clock in yet,” I remind him, still thinking about work instead of my mental health. Very typical of me.

“Perfect, then. I still have personal time to use, and you told me you were given some personal time when you signed on, so that covers today. We’ll let your manager know you’re not feeling well on the way out,” he says, moving about his office and collecting his things before realizing I’m yet unmoving, “Fuck! Did I just plan your entire day?”

I smile up at him, adoration in my eyes. “You did, but with the best of intentions,” I comment, standing up from the chair, “You’re right, though. I kinda need the routine of going into the office today and I could use a day off even if it’s only my first week.”

“Look at you, already smiling. I count that as a win,” he hums, reaching for my hand, squeezing as our fingers interlace.

We head out of the station after a short talk with my boss. Tell a man you’re having ‘feminine trouble’ and he all but shoos you out of the building. Thank God for small favors.

Walter heads home after insisting I go home to change clothes and grab whatever I needed to feel comfortable for the rest of the day at his place. Arriving home, I immediately start to pack my overnight bag. I choose to ignore the nagging voice questioning my actions. I might want to stay over or change clothes again for some reason. So, take that, Nag-atha Christie!

I call my therapist’s office and request to come into the office today. I say that my schedule has changed and I would prefer to be seen in the office. The receptionist is super sweet and lets me know she will inform Yada of the change. I hope Yada doesn’t worry. I mean, I’m slightly worried about my little episode earlier but I feel at least a bit better now.

I change into some yoga pants, a loose-fitting top, a hoodie, and some comfy old sneakers. I spot Beary Allen sitting atop my bed and resign to bringing him over to Walter’s house as well. I usually can’t sleep without him so I don’t chastise myself too much for bringing along something for comfort. 

I check my overnight bag to make sure I have everything I need, and some stuff I don’t need but I want to have just in case. And if I reach into my nightstand and grab condoms, then that is my business until it is Walter and I’s business. Not that I plan on doing anything, but I like being prepared for multiple eventualities. In any case, I refuse to let myself feel anything but poised for success. I also refuse to define success, so there’s the end of that.

I hear Walter’s text tone going off in my pocket and pull out my phone.

Walter Marshall: Didn’t change your mind did you, Princess?

Me: Of course not!

Me: I was just making sure I have everything

Me: Including Beary Allen

Me: 😁

Walter Marshall: The…Flash? But like, a bear?

Me: I love that you get exactly what I meant

Me: And you haven’t even met Beary

Walter Marshall: I was right???

Me: You’ll meet him soon

Me: He’s my emotional support animal

Me: I’m leaving now to come to you

You have shared your location.

Me: Now, you can tell where I am at all times

Me: Just as a safety thing

Walter Marshall: Wow ok

Walter Marshall: Thank you for trusting me with this

Me: You’re welcome

Me: Try to act like you didn’t follow my location the entire time I was on my way to your place 😉

Walter Marshall: No promises

I’m already back in my car by the time his text comes through, I know he’s gonna follow me the whole way to his house. It’s honestly adorable. I can tell he misses me when I’m not around. He likes me, and I like him too. It doesn’t take me long to get to his house and he’s standing outside when I park in the driveway.

“You failed to play it cool, Detective,” I laugh, grabbing my overnight bag and Beary from the passenger seat before exiting my car.

“I never promised to play it cool,” he smiles, reaching out to take my overnight bag from me, “Hmm, planning on staying a bit?” 

“I figured it would be best to be prepared,” I propose, clutching onto Beary, secretly glad that Walter didn’t offer to take him as well. No one has ever touched Beary besides me.

“May I address Mr. Allen directly? Or does he only speak with you?” he poses the question completely seriously.

It takes every ounce of my resolve not to melt. “You may address him directly.”

“Mr. Allen, may I call you Beary?” he waits for a response, “I just want you to know I plan on taking care of Kam during her stay here, however long that may be…Yes, of course…I wouldn’t dream of it. So we have an understanding. Shake on it?” He reaches out and shakes Beary’s tiny paw, winking at me as he pulls his hand back. If he’s not careful, I will fall so fucking hard for this man.

Walter takes my hand, kisses it gently, and brings me inside. I start to lean down to remove my shoes, but he stops me and kneels to do it himself.

“You don’t have to-” I start, before being cut off.

“I know I don’t have to, Princess,” he agrees, placing my shoes next to his, “but I want to take care of you today, so allow me to do so, please?”

I open my mouth to protest, but a stern look from Walter makes me rethink that choice and only nod.

“Good girl,” he praises, standing up to hover over me, “I know it must be hard to let someone take care of you, but since I’ve taken on that role, I plan on not having you lift a finger if I can help it. Sorry, not sorry.”

“That’s some Prince Charming shit right there,” I blurt out, there goes my filter flying away in the wind again. Luckily, Walter just laughs at that and kisses my forehead. 

We end up hanging out around his house for a few hours, having far too many snacks and too much coffee. What can I say, we’re both caffeine addicts and snack goblins. The only reason I ignore the voice telling me I’ve had enough snacks is the fact that Walter is hand-feeding me pieces of fruit. He was not kidding about me not lifting a finger. I could get used to this.

Before long, Walter is helping me put my shoes on so that we can head to my therapist appointment. He opens his truck door for me and even buckles me in, shooing my hands away. Holding my hand as he drives, he allows me to pick the music we listen to. When I joke ‘but I thought the driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cakehole’, he has no clue what I’m talking about. I explain it away as a tv show reference, making sure to force him to watch Supernatural with me at some point.

As The Amazing Devil’s ‘Two Minutes’ is ending, we are pulling up to Yada’s office. I don’t even try to reach for my door handle, waiting for Walter to come around to my side of the vehicle. He lifts me out of the truck and I try not to smile too wide at that. Holding my hand as we cross the parking lot, he steps in front of me to open the door, allowing me to walk in first. I check in with the receptionist and we sit in the lobby holding hands again. This man likes to hold my hand, and I am not complaining about it.

I hear Yada’s office door open and she steps out to greet me. She visibly registers my hand intertwined with the man to my left. I stand, pulling Walter up with me by accident. 

“Don’t worry, he’s gonna wait out here. Let’s go,” I sputter, moving past Yada and into the office. I notice Yada isn’t following me when I sit down. I hear introductions being exchanged and silently die inside. Why does it feel like my mom is meeting my boyfriend? Wait, is he my boyfriend? Oh my God, is he my boyfriend?

Yada comes back into the room and sits in her armchair, grabbing her notebook and writing quickly in it before addressing me. “So, let’s address the elephant in the room, or should I say the giraffe in my lobby. That man is tall as hell. And very pretty,” she jabbers on, smiling away at me, “Tell me all about him.”

I go on to tell her we met, or more correctly he saved my life, just before my last therapy appointment. I mention Faye and that we haven’t met yet. I talk about being in almost constant communication since I gave him my number on Monday. We discuss how he likes to take care of me, and that he did so after I told him about the whole Christopher thing. During this, she is taking notes in her book. When I bring up my episode this morning, she looks up at me.

“So, it sounds like Walter was able to ground you during a moment of dissociation. About how long did it last?” she asks.

“For just a few minutes. I remember getting out of my car, but from walking into the station to Walter effectively ‘waking me up’...it’s just like I was watching myself move but I wasn’t totally in control.” I murmur, finding my favorite spot on the rug.

“I see, can you remember this ever happening before?”

“The last time it happened was maybe five or six months ago after I had to quit the job at the prison infirmary. It was just too stressful. And I guess I have been kinda stressed the past couple of days. Everybody at work knows Walter and I are dating thanks to a couple of friends I made. Nina and Sophie are sweet but they have loose lips.”

“Either way, I am glad you made friends,” she smiles, taking a note, “Are there any other stressors besides a new public relationship?” 

“His ex works at the station too. She’s been kinda giving me the stink eye when we pass each other. She hasn’t said or done anything. But like, she obviously still feels something for him,” I admit, rolling my eyes, “But if that chicken thinks she’s getting anywhere near my coop, she has got another thing coming.”

“Calm down, we don’t need you to be unprofessional in the workplace, no matter how she acts toward you,” she reasons, even though I only half-listen, “Does Walter know about Rachel’s behavior?”

“No, because I don’t want to sound like I’m crazy. I feel crazy. She probably just has resting bitch face?” 

“I think you should tell him about the looks she has been giving you. Get his opinion on it before you discount your feelings completely. He might be able to shed some light on her behavior, or even better, he may be able to speak with her on terms she can understand. And that don’t involve you clubbing her like a seal and hiding the body behind the police station. But you didn’t hear that from me. That’s off the record, Your Honor.” she muses, winking at me before taking notes.

I agree to talk to Walter about Rachel and we decide this will be my homework for this week. Not difficult, but still awkward to start speaking about. I mean, how do you tell your significant other that their ex is problematic without seeming territorial or threatened? Rachel doesn’t strike me as the type to try and come in between Walter and me, but I will be keeping my eyes peeled.

“So are you and Walter using protection?” Out of nowhere, Yada hits me with that question.

“Yada! We haven’t even done anything yet? Jesus, woman,” I cover my face, happy again that my espresso skin doesn’t show the heat behind my cheeks.

“Yet being the optimal word. Got it. Well, use protection. You have every right to have sex and every right to protect yourself. So, don’t be coming round here saying ‘we got caught up in the moment’. Because so did Romeo and Juliet and look how that ended,” she deadpans, throwing her hands up.

“Did you just…never mind. We will use protection. When we get to that point. I’m in no rush and I can’t speak for him, but he at least respects my boundaries.”

“He sounds like a good egg. I like him already. He respects boundaries, he’s attractive, he’s got a stable income, and he liiiiiikes you,” she beams, rising from her armchair to go to her desk.

“I’m glad you approve because I like him and it just feels right with him. We connect so easily,” I say, noticing Yada is looking at me and shaking her head, “What now?”

“You are falling for him, girlfriend, don’t you see that?” she commented matter-of-factly. 

“Shut up, no I’m not,” I answer grumpily.

“Alright, but you are,” she states, tilting her head, “There is nothing wrong with that, by the way.”

“I know. I’m just afraid of moving too fast. That’s kind of my way of doing things, and I don’t hate it but I don’t necessarily like it much either.”

“Love it or hate it, it is a part of you. And you either have to learn to thrive despite it, or work toward changing the behavior. But you know this already, Kamaria.”

“You’re right about that, but I still like the option of just complaining about it,” I confess, shrugging my shoulders.

“Either way, it is your choice. You are still scheduled virtually for next week. You have your homework, as well. Anything else you wanna gab about before we end today’s session?”

“Nope,” I say, letting the ‘p’ make a pop sound.

“Well, then I will let you get back to your tall, dark, and handsome fella,” she smiles, getting up to walk me out. We exit her office and she smiles at Walter, addressing him directly. “She has homework and it involves you, so don’t let her forget.” How she gonna do me like that?!

“Thanks, Yada,” I groan.

Walter is enjoying this way too much because he decides it’s best to pat my shoulder while saying, “Don’t you worry, I won’t let her forget.” He just smiles when I give him a glare that rivals the fire of a thousand suns. He probably thinks it’s cute or something. He holds his arm out to let me exit before him and I’m happy for this because then he can’t see me cursing his very existence. I still let him open the door for me. I also let him open the truck door and buckle me in. By the time he gets into the vehicle, I’m reaching over to hold his hand.

“Done being mad at me, then?” he jokes, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.

“Feed me and we’ll see if I can’t be swayed,” I advise, winking at him.

We grab a quick late lunch and head back to his place. I take a nap for a couple of hours and am awoken by the hearty scent of tomato sauce. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on the couch, but I’m waking up in a bedroom underneath a light blanket, Beary tucked into my side. Walter must have moved me in here so I wouldn’t be disturbed. He can be so sweet sometimes, I wonder how long he can keep this up.

I get up from the bed, leaving Beary behind and I walk out to the living room to see Walter hard at work in the kitchen. He doesn’t notice me so I sneak up behind him and goose him. He doesn’t react, as if he knew I was coming.

“What makes you think I didn’t hear you from the moment you opened my bedroom door?” he began, only turning slightly to wink at me before returning to slicing french bread for garlic toast, “I used to be S.W.A.T., Princess, so it takes a lot to get the jump on me.”

“So, you’re say-” 

“That is not an invitation for you to experiment on how to get the upper hand, love,” he stops me before I go down that useless train of thought.

“You got me, I’ll be on my best behavior, Sir,” I laugh, pulling myself up to sit on the counter near him.

“Would you like a piece of bread with some tomato sauce on it, Princess?”

“Yes, please,” I pipe up, excited to taste the aromatic sauce. I watch as he grabs a piece of bread, dipping it into the sauce before blowing on it a bit. He turns off the stove and comes to stand in front of me, placing the bite just out of reach. I look at him, confusion painted on my face.

“Tell me what your homework is and you can have your treat, Princess.”

I debate pouting but I know that won’t get me that saucy bread. “I have to talk to you about Rachel. She’s been weird around me, and it makes me uneasy,” I mumble, suddenly anxious.

“What exactly is she saying or doing?” he asks, allowing me to take a bite of the bread, still holding onto it himself.

“She hasn’t said anything to me, she just gives me this bitchy glare whenever we cross paths,” I speak around the bite of bread I was granted, “Honestly, baby, she freaks me out and I don’t like the idea of having to avoid your ex.”

“You shouldn’t have to actively avoid her,” he holds the last bite of bread out for me and places it in my awaiting mouth, “I’ll talk to her. I don’t want to scare her too much. But I do want her to know you mean a lot to me and if I’m lucky, you’ll be in my life for a long time to come. She needs to suck it up and get used to it.” 

“Fuck, that is so sexy to hear you say,” I disclose, reaching up to cup the back of his head, pulling him into a searing kiss. 

I clench my thighs together as I feel his tongue invade my mouth. Strong hands part my legs so that he can slide in between them. Our clothed sexes line up perfectly and I wrap my legs around his hips. A growl rumbles from his chest to my groin. We part to catch our breath, our foreheads resting together.

“Fuck, will you let me eat your pussy, baby?” he practically moans the question and it lights a fire up under my ass.

“Please, yes,” I gasp, wrapping my arms around his neck before he picks me up off the counter and walks us into his bedroom. He lays me down slowly. Kissing from my lips to my neck, nipping along the way. I gasp inwardly when I feel his hand ghost over my covered heat, my back arching at the touch.

“I’m going to take such good care of you, baby. You just relax and take what you need from me,” he whispers, moving down the bed as he hooks his fingers in my pants. He pulls them down, leaving me in my drenched panties. He kisses the fabric of my underwear before pulling those down as well.

He dives into my sodden snatch, using the flat of his tongue to lick a stripe from my entrance to my swollen nub before kissing it. My hands go from gripping the sheets to weaving through his curls when I feel him start to suck on my button.

“Fuuuuuck, Daddy, just like that,” I mewl, his growl vibrating through my clit. I feel his hands grip my thick thighs, pulling me closer to him as he eats greedily. I look down at him, his eyes are closed and he looks like he is in Heaven feasting on me. As if he could sense my stare, his eyes open and we share a heated mutual gaze. 

While still attending to my nub, he reaches up to my mouth and I suck two of his fingers, getting them nice and wet. When he’s satisfied, he leans back and licks his lips, entering my core with his spit-slicked digits and I cry out at the sensation.

“You’re so fucking tight, hot, and wet baby. Fucking perfect, I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock,” he hummed, working his fingers in and out of me slowly until I arch my back to ride his fingers.

I pull him up to kiss me, tasting myself on his lips. His fingers find my inner bundle of nerves, massaging it as his thumb circles my clit. My breathing picks up as I feel the coil in my depths tightening until it snaps and I squeeze my eyes shut in anticipation.

“No, no, no. Look at me when I make you cum,” our eyes lock and I arch off the bed as my orgasm hits me full force. But this one feels different, so much more powerful than ever before. “Fuuuuuuuck, yes! Squirt all over me,” I faintly hear Walter groan those words before I realize my thighs are wet and sloshing noises are bouncing off the walls. Walter looks back up to my face and his pupils are blown wide. “You look so beautiful like this. All fucked out, tears flowing freely.” Did he say tears?

I reach up to my cheeks and feel wetness staining them, my eyes are blurry with unshed moisture. Then the emotion behind it all attacks and I begin to cry fully. I know they are happy tears but I can’t verbalize that to Walter yet and he starts to panic. 

“S’ok…so good…emotional,” I mutter, trying to let him know I’m alright. He seems to understand and nods, going to the attached bathroom and coming back with two towels. I feel wet warmth between my thighs as he cleans me, then dries me off with the other towel. He lays down next to me and covers me with the comforter and I close my eyes in contentment.

He peppers my face with slow kisses, from my eyelids to my nose to my cheeks to my lips. When I open my eyes again, Walter is looking at me with a look that definitely spells out his feelings for me. Instead of putting words to it, we just lay and bask in its radiance. I struggle to keep my eyes open and finally keep them closed.

I feel a kiss placed on my forehead and stir while I hear Walter’s soothing voice in my ears. “You did so good, Angel. Rest as long as you need to, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I awake some time later, and true to his word, Walter is still laying next to me. His soft snores are like music to my ears. I lean up and nuzzle our noses together until he stirs and opens his eyes and smiles down at me.

“Hey, baby,” he gives me a quick peck, “How do you feel?”  

“Well…so far, I feel refreshed. But I haven’t tried to walk yet,” I laugh, “That will be the true test. And I need to pee anyway.” At that, I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. I swing my legs out of the bed and stand up slowly. I take my first step and it’s wobbly as hell.

Walter gets up and helps me to the bathroom, because of course he does. He stays in the bathroom with me to make sure I don’t tip off the toilet or slip into the bathtub. I mean, at this point, I squirted all over his hand so I’m sure he can handle me peeing while he’s in the room. He even jokes that he can’t believe I have any liquids left in me. I playfully swat at him and he only grins at me.

We end up having dinner shortly after, the pasta was spectacular and the garlic toast was perfect. The rest of the night is spent introducing Walter to Supernatural. He likes how funny it is, and I feel obligated to tell him that this is one of the saddest shows to ever grace television screens. Once I say that, he vows to still watch the show because it means so much to me. 

We lay down in his bed for the night, talking about what we want to do this weekend. I mention that it would be nice to do absolutely nothing and just be lazy bums all weekend and he approves. Our weekend is spent finishing the first season of Supernatural and me answering all of Walter’s questions about the show. He is so cute getting all invested in one of my faves. And if we take breaks for him to test how many times he can make me cum in a weekend, then that’s our business.

He won’t allow me to return the favor, however. He says that this is all a part of him taking care of me this weekend. I try not to feel undeserving of so much positive attention, but I’m still a work in progress. And that is just fine for now because he is good at making me forget why I was anxious in the first place. My sweet Walter better count his days, because I am going to rock his world when I finally get the chance.

Chapter 5

**Tag List**

@enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries 

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @kebabgirl67 @foxyjwls007

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x black!plus size female #walter marshall x black!plus size female oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x black!ofc #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #bright like the moon

[ilovewriting06]

Greek Tragedy

A/N: I’m thinking of making a part 2 to this and skipping to like the middle of season 1 with the story. So let me know if you want a part 2.

I screamed out of shock as someone grabbed my arm and pulled me inside the house I had been reading a book behind on a beach chair. I was dragged into the room with three guys and the man that took me in as his own. m

John was tied to the chair he was sitting in talking to someone in a calm yet shaky voice. I listened as he ordered the person on the other end of the phone to not give the man what he wants. The guy that was holding me in place looked at me and then back at the man holding a gun beside John. I watched in fear as the man holding the gun yelled about his brother before a gunshot echoed throughout the house and I watched the man who took me in a mere few months ago die, no, as he got murdered. I screamed but nothing came out.

I would have fallen to the ground if it wouldn’t have been for the man holding me. I stared at John as silent tears rolled down my face. When the man who just murdered John hung up the phone he turned to me and went to say something until he heard sirens in the distance getting closer. He cursed under his breath before he said, “Forget her we have to go!” And just like that I fell to the floor as the man released me and ran out the back door with the others. I crawled over to where John was sitting and sat up on my knees before shaking his shoulders and screaming, “NO, NO, DON’T LEAVE ME! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITHOUT YOU! PLEASE COME BACK. Please.” My voice broke on my last plea before I fell to the floor screaming and crying until I couldn’t breathe. I was only there for a few seconds before the police barged in, guns raised, but it felt like hours had passed. I felt someone grab my shoulder and I backed away quickly with sobs still leaving my mouth. I looked into the face of a kind looking man as he offered me his hand to help me up. I shakily took his hand and allowed him to lead me outside the house.

Everything after that all flew by while I was stuck in time replaying what happened over and over again in my mind. By now I was sitting in an interrogation room alone. At least five police officers and a therapist had been in here trying to get me to talk but I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t. I was still trying to process that the only person who has every truly loved me, was murdered in front of me.

I peeked up a little bit as I heard the familiar voice of the officer who had helped me, who I had learned was called Duke, talking to someone outside the door. I heard an unfamiliar voice respond in a concerned yet confused voice, “What was she doing there?”

“I don’t know Steve,” Steve? Steve who? Steve McGarrett? Johns son? He was here? Well duh it was his father, wait, how long have I been here?, “all I know is that she was in the room when your father was killed and she hasn’t said a word since.”

I heard the voice I’ve learned is Steve reply, “Jesus, how long has she been in there?”

“Ever since we found her.”

“Has she eaten?” Well he seems caring.

“No, we’ve offered but she just shakes her head no.”

“Can I see her?”

I assume Duke agreed as the door soon opened to reveal Duke followed by a tall man with dark hair and blue bloodshot eyes enter the room. Duke offered to stay but Steve was quick to deny the offer. After Duke left Steve sat in the chair across from me. I peaked at him through my hair. He’s definitely not bad looking. Stop it Y/N. I looked back down at the metal table before I heard Steve clear his throat before speaking, “I’m Steve McGarrett, I’m John’s son.” I glanced at him before nodding my head to signal that I knew who he was. I watched as he shifted nervously before asking, “What’s your name?” I looked up and made eye contact before quickly looking down. I heard him sight before saying, “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me but I want to help you and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me who you are.” I looked down before opening my mouth and then closing it again. I watched as his eyes lit up with hope before he encouraged me again, “It’s okay it’s just me and you, no one else.” I looked up at him again and felt the comfort I had only felt with John and knew that I could trust Steve. “Y/N, my name is Y/N.” My voice was hoarse from crying and underuse. He smiled a small smile before nodding his head, “Do you need anything?A drink or some food?”

“A water would be nice.”

He smiled and nodded his head before getting up and started to walk out the door before I stopped him, “Please don’t leave me.” My voice shook as I spoke and he looked at me with a mix of surprise and sympathy before nodding his head and motioning for someone and then asking them to bring me a water.

A couple seconds later a guy walks in and sets a bottle of water on the table before exiting the room. I reached my arm out to grab the water resulting in my hoodie sleeve to slide up revealing a couple of my scars. I quickly grabbed the water and retreated hoping that Steve hadn’t seen but from the look on his face he definitely saw them. “How old are you?”

I looked up slightly before answering, “I’m 24.” He looked at me and I knew the question that he was burning to ask. Why were you at my fathers house? Sure enough the next words out of his mouth were, “Why were you there?” I played with the sleeve of my hoodie before taking a deep breath, “I live, lived there. Jo-your dad found me a couple months ago in an alley and noticed I was pretty banged up. He offered to help me and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” I watched as Steve smiled a reminiscent smile before continuing, “While he was cleaning the cut on my face he was questioning me, similarly to what you’re doing now, and offered me a place to stay when he found out I was living with an abusive boyfriend who wouldn’t let me do anything without beating me for it. I hesitated to agree, but he was nothing if not a persistent man. I finally agreed and ever since then I’ve been living with him. He helped me get a job as a waitress and I was even saving up money to get an apartment.” I suddenly stopped as I realized that I had nowhere to go now. Sure I had savings but only a few hundred dollars, not even close to enough to live on. I shook my head before running a hand through my hair revealing the scar that ran from my temple down to my cheekbone, curtesy of my abusive ass of a boyfriend, ex-boyfriend.

Steve watched me carefully before asking, “The scars, on your arms, are they self inflicted or..?” He kind of faded out but I answered him, “No they aren’t self inflicted. They look like it since my ex used a broken beer bottle to cut me when I tried to run away.”

Steve once again looked at me with sympathy before asking, “Where are going to go now?”

“I don’t know.”

He seemed to think about it for a second but he offered, “You can stay with me until you get on your feet. I’ll be staying at dads house.”

I choked back a sob before saying, “I don't think I can go back into that house, but thank you.”

He seemed to understand because he offered, “I can get you a room at a hotel close by if you would like.”

I looked at him surprised that he’s offering to rent me a room, but then again his father would have done the same. Before I can stop myself I agree and he offers to take me once we were done here.

I agree and he explains that I have to leave a statement of what I saw. I didn’t agree till Steve said he would stay with me. As I told Duke what happened I shook as I replayed what had happened. I started to have a panic attack when I felt Steve’s hand on my shoulder I glanced up at him as he threw Duke a look which told him to leave the room. After Duke hesitated he reluctantly left the room leaving me and Steve alone again. Steve pulled my chair out before crouching in front of me and grabbing my hands in a comforting manner before saying, “Y/N, it’s okay they aren’t here. You’re okay.”

I choked on a sob before saying, “I know I’m here, but he’s not. I watched him die Steve, the only person that ever treated me like somebody that mattered, was taken from me, and it’s not okay. I don’t know what to do and now that he’s gone I feel like I lost my purpose. For the last few months I took care of him, made sure he ate and sat around as he told stories about you and your sister Mary. Now, now I have nothing. I hate my job, I’m treated like shit by coworkers and the people I wait on. Steve I don’t have a father, he was the closest thing to one I’ve ever had and now I don’t have anyone.”

Steve pulled me into a hug and then pulled back to look in my eyes before saying, “No, you have me. My father took care of everyone that deserves to be taken care of and now that he’s gone it’s my job to take care of the people or in this case person he took care of.”

I wiped away a tear before making a decision, “I think I changed my mind, I think I want to stay with you if that’s okay.” He smiles before nodding, “ Yeah, it’s okay Y/N/N.” I smiled and said, “I like that. I haven’t had many nicknames that weren’t slut, whore, piece of shit, and things of the like.” “Well in that case I’ll be sure to supply you with many more.”

#steve mcgarrett x reader #steve mcgarrett #hawaii five oh #hawaii #hawaii five 0

[mmelionsblog]

You’re My Reason || Bradley Bradshaw

( ITS SUCH A SMALL DRABLE BUT I COULDNT HELP WRITE THIS IM IN LOVE W THIS MAN. ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY 🙂 )

It had been a long week at work, and once you got off you went straight to your bedroom and cried for about who knows how long.

For a while, you thought you could be a therapist since you have graduated from high school, and through out your five years of being one this week had been the hardest of them all.

It might’ve been because you’ve been busy so much of focusing on your patients, you haven’t focused on yourself. You would usually tell Bradley how your week has been, but since he’s been gone for a month long mission you had no one to talk too.

Keeping everything in your chest was bad and you knew that, but very little you trusted no one except Bradley. Ever since an incident that was all for trust back in 2013 when you graduated, you hadn’t been your same self ever since. Well, tell you met your boyfriend of course.

“Fuck,” you whimpered. Sniffling, you got on your phone to call Bradley. As you put him on speaker you got up to wipe the tears off your face.

He still hasn’t answered, and your stomach twisted as you heard his voicemail. “This is Bradshaw, if you have contacted me-” you end the call, throwing your phone at the wall in frustration.

Your eyes traveled to the shelves that had numerous pictures of your family, Bradley, and you on it. Smiling sadly, you close your eyes hoping you’d feel better in the morning.

0:900 you woke up due to the banging in your house. Jumping up from your bed, your eyes widened as you remembered forgetting to lock your doors at night. Cussing, you grab your bat and slowly walk out of your shared bedroom.

Words could be heard from the kitchen but it was still muffled to you since you had just woken up. Holding the bat closely to you, you peak around the corner to see your boyfriend cooking your favorite breakfast. Your heart ached at the right.

Putting down the bat you slowly crept onto Bradley as you wrap your arms around his torso, you nuzzled your nose into his back. “Hi my love,” you whisper. “Hi baby, how’s you sleep?” He asked. “Couldn’t sleep. This week has been a nightmare.”

“How so?” You explained to him, and by the time you ended the food was done since you decided to add in your month as well. Tears formed down your cheek and Bradley hated seeing you all so stressed out. “Please take time off, this week alright? Have someone else in for you.” He whispered as he wiped your tears, kissing each side of your cheek.

You whispered a small okay, agreeing to whatever your boyfriend said. You didn’t care, as long as he was here all of your problems were solved.

Since the two of you had work off that day, after breakfast you both decided to clean up the house and went straight to your shared room and put on some nice comfortable clothes, getting underneath the sheets and holding one another.

Bradley loved moments like these. He loved holding you so close, being next to you. His mouth laid kisses all over your body to where he can get too, maybe a possible sucking on some spots- love bites as he calls them.

“I love you,” a kiss was planted on your nose, “I love you,” another one was planted on your cheek and he would say I love you every time he kissed somewhere and you would too, every time he spoke.

“You’re my reason,” you whisper; looking up at him to look into his eyes. “You’re mine.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun #mavericks #x reader

[allamericansbitch]

it’s me, anon with the backstabbing coworker!

i quit my job!!!!!!!!!

i sent in my resignation letter over the weekend (after working overtime in the week because boss took last minute pto, must be nice) so she saw it today and she literally hasn’t said a single word to me about it but i know she saw it because i overheard her scheduling interviews for my position. i really get no respect here, from either my boss or that awful coworker who i simply can’t bear to work with. like the least she could say is “hey i saw your resignation letter.” i don’t even care about her saying she’ll miss me blah blah cause i know she wanted me gone anyway which is probably why she jumped at the chance to tell me how my coworker had betrayed me, but she could say literally anything.

i’m honestly sad because this was a dream job for so long and i’m probably gonna cry about it more but eventually i’ll realize i truly am better off.

i have another job lined up that honestly pays less but i was talking to my therapist and at least 80% of my current anxiety/etc is coming from this job which is making me miserable. i’m really sad it’s come to this and it’s hard to let go, but i’m like taylor once said: you know in your soul when it’s time to go. and i think i knew that months ago but i’ve been holding on too long.

hopefully i can make it two more weeks. if not, am i a bad person if i just stop showing up? it would definitely inconvenience my coworkers and i want to stay friends with some of them, but i don’t know if i have two more weeks in me.

OMG!!! amazing!!! im so proud you put yourself first!! it's a shitty move from your boss to ignore you and give you the silent treatment like you did something wrong (when you in fact did not) but sadly not surprising lol

and don't worry, this wasnt your dream job, your dream job is still waiting for you because your dream job would be a place that treats you with respect and human decency and this wasnt that!

i honestly can't say for sure if not showing up will affect your coworkers and how they see you, i will say if you genuinely feel like it's impossible to stay there any longer then for sure don't go, but because i dont know the specifics on the workplace dynamics and also how your coworkers view you/the job it's a tough call to make and it's up to you at the end of the day. maybe ask them? like 'hey does it put you in a bad position if i just dont show up' or something?

#answered #anonymous

[calypso-finale]

Hundred Thirty Three.

It has taken a long time to get Chris to come to this meeting, well it’s not a meeting but it is therapy session, but I rather just call it a meeting because Chris calls it that but to have him here finally, after two years is a bonus for me because it’s been a fucking battle to do it and I can only thank my eldest daughter for that “been a while hasn’t it?” the therapist said “I suppose” Chris shrugged it off really but it’s been hard work to be in this bubble of Chris just being hurt and upset about what happened “you tell me what happened Chris, why did you go missing on me?” looking at him “I had a lot on” he simply said but it’s the truth really, he has had a lot on, we both have “but you have been hurting?” he nodded his head “two years, it’s never too late to talk about it, it may upset you but speak to me. I missed out on talks” Chris laughed “I know Robyn has been having to deal with me just not being around as much, well I have been, but we have been just not getting a long” which we haven’t, makes me sad “I love her so much and I do want to make her happy so yeah” smiling at him “erm, yeah so. I never got to walk Rylee, my eldest daughter down the aisle” I swallowed hard, that has hurt him a lot “and how did that happen, why was that?” he put his head down “just a lot of shit really, so like we was preparing this wedding she wanted, we was paying for it. The next thing is that I see, this was like the moment we found out Tianna is pregnant, we are grandparents again to a girl which really made me see life in a better sense, just thought I would add that but I couldn’t shake this off still, it was heartbreaking for me. So we saw Rylee then, we knew she wanted the marriage to be done in London, we came back, and we started preparing, then like two months later down the line, I said to Robyn you know who has been quiet, Rylee and Oakley, they haven’t spoken to anyone, and their social media is just dead, and Robyn said well they are preparing their wedding, so it’s stressful. Left it as that, then a week later Imani came in and said, have you seen it, I was like seen what? I am confused now, and she goes the pictures, nah I haven’t. Logged into Instagram and I see Oakley page first, it popped up and it said in the caption, I have entered a new phase in life and it’s him in a suit. This nigga doesn’t wear that shit, so I was like ok, he looks smart” Chris paused shaking his head.

“So yeah, I went to the next slide, and I thought this is some sick joke or a photoshoot, I see Rylee and him, a picture of them getting married” his voice broke “so they just there, I go to the next slide, and the next slide and it’s them, they both married. I am like they can’t be; I scroll down and there I see my daughter in her dress, and she did it. She got married without us, she had just his mom there, her friends, his friends and jus did it on the low and just put her new life. Kept it simple, I thought it was a joke. None of it was, that burned me so bad” he sniffled, I flicked my tear away “we fucked up on some parts, but we didn’t deserve that, I went straight to the house. I got on the jet without even speaking to Robyn, went to London. I was so mad, I got there and it’s just a house sitter there, and he goes I am looking after the house. They are going to be away for a year, and that was it. Rylee just shut down and didn’t speak to anyone. And then Tianna had her baby, and she got gifts and flowers from Rylee and Oakley, actually mind you” he pointed “Robyn got a transfer, a hefty one. And her accountant said this has come from Rylee, she gave back the money she got from us, her inheritance and she put in the note, thank you for setting me up mom and dad but your name alone brings me money, I have made money, we have made money, and we are ok. Gave it back, but Ti and Rylee they have been in contact, and I was like you never said, she said I didn’t want to break that with her. And then just last year she had another baby, a boy. And nobody has seen it, at all. And I think Aziel is around eight now and we haven’t seen him since” Chris let out a sob.

Wiping my tears “and this has hurt you too Robyn?” nodding my head “it’s like losing a child you know, she has blocked us out and living her life, but we didn’t deserve this from her, but I am hurting, we are hurting as a family for this loss. Yes we have our granddaughter, but she hates us. Even more so she isn’t a Fenty anymore, she has fully taken his name” I said “but I have my sources and they have been hiding out in Ireland so yeah, I think they have moved back into London now but, what would I do if I knew my dad would come flying in to beat the man I love. I would hide too, Chris goes through his moments but he is calm down” I said “so she ran out of fear that her partner may get the repercussion of it?” nodding my head “as far as I am aware, she has two boys and a husband and living her life in the backgrounds of working with the Fendi design team, she posts pictures and at one time I thought we was going to meet but we didn’t, in France and I tried so hard but she is like me, she thinks like me and she just left, I didn’t know. She cut us off, besides Tianna which she holds the cards so close to her chest, she will not give anything away and even more, so Chris argued with her so much and Ti won’t do it, she has seen our grandson too and I am saying let us see, no to that too. All she said is that he looks double of Oakley” I shrugged “I wish that bastard never came in her fucking life” Chris said “and this is the issue Chris, this hate for him but how can you hate him when he is happy, we need to take that anger out of you. You are hating another man for showing the love you gave to her? Isn’t that what you wanted, her happiness? You cannot hate that Chris, you are speaking out of anger” Chris got up “I need to smoke” he said walking off “by all means but it still stands, maybe the reason is there, and you are trying to play it off and blame other, we need to look closer to home” Chris hates our therapist at the same time he doesn’t.

I sighed out as Chris walked out of the room, let him calm down. He has been so upset about things but to get him here is a bonus to me “how have you been? We know Chris is terribly hurt by this” I huffed out “I feel distraught, it made me feel like we are such bad parents and for her to give the money back to me, that made me think wow we were that bad that she doesn’t want anything to do with us. I tried so hard to find out more on what she is doing, I spoke to Rachel once and then the next I couldn’t contact her, and the last she said was they was in Ireland, and with them. And I was going to go out to them, but the contact was dropped, I didn’t think we was that bad, we gave her everything. She is the most loved and spoilt” I choked out “being spoilt doesn’t mean she is feeling nurtured, there must have been a trigger when this happened” I shook my head “we just want to see our grandchildren, to see our daughter and to see her married and happy, that is all I want for her” which is true “it’s been two years and not an ounce of reaching out or her wanting to speak to you or Chris. Rylee fear may be the fact her dad will kick off, she moved her family from the home he went too, she knew it and still she is not seeking any family reunion and it’s sad, but we need to look deeper. I have been doing this with you both for years and Chris refuses to change. He holds on to tiny things too which we spoke he should let go and he says he will. We also got to remember we are dealing with an adult now and if she wants no relationship then she can” nodding my head “we need to heal within, and that’s what I want for you both. Acceptance of the situation, I am happy Chris has come to us” I clenched my jaw; I am just mad and upset, for him and for me. We miss her, she doesn’t understand that.

Hugging Imani “welcome home” she has been touring overseas “and I bought a gift home” she said pointing “Oh you decided to come home. All in the UK, you forgot us” walking over to Tianna “where is my Nova? You better have bought her along” she better have “well about that” I gasped “no Tianna don’t say that” she cringed “where is my Nova?” she is serious “she is in London” I scoffed “well we don’t want you” I joked “it’s ok, I am glad to see you here, how come? What bought this on” Chris hugged Tianna “yeah Ti what bought this on” Imani has a dirty smile on her face “just visiting my family, I was going to bring her but Damson said he will be home and then his auntie is coming down and wants to see her, so he is coming after a while but yeah, where have you both been?” she asked “we are trying some therapy aren’t we?” looking at Chris “yeah we are trying it” he laughed “how was that? I am glad you are, some healing is needed here” even Ti know how shit it has been “well come, let’s go inside. When are you coming back to LA officially” she has been in London for far too long which makes me think why, who is keeping her there when they both said they would be here more “oh we are, once Damson comes over we are staying so don’t worry” thank god “good, I miss my Nova” Chris said behind me, be nice to see her.

Junior is too grown for me, he is so tall too “give Tianna more love, look at you with that cold hug” I pointed “I didn’t” he smiled “go on, ignore mom” Tianna said to him as he walked off “you seen Rylee, where is she and him hiding now?” Chris asked, Tianna is literally the only link “I said I am not speaking on them, it’s a relationship I was able to keep” she is very loyal to her “Tianna, I said when you come to this house I want to know?” Chris spat “and what do you want me to say? She is ok, he is ok. The boys are ok?” I side eyed Chris “we don’t even know what he looks like, his name? I bet you have a picture in that phone. Like what does Aziel look like now? You know how much I miss that boy; I love him. And I haven’t seen him for two years! And you want to hide that shit!” I shushed Chris “you’re not doing this; you want to lose Tianna too?” I said to him “he is just upset, I get it” Ti mumbled “Kylian, that is his name. And when I was able to see him, after back and forth with Rylee on things, the first thing I said” she laughed “who white baby is that, she laughed but he looks just like Oakley, but his eye colour is very unique, it’s Hazel but has brown to it, I can’t explain it but it’s unique but he is very much Oakley all over, he is adorable. His eyes were blue at one point, which was different to see but that changed. Aziel is a little jealous of his brother, but he is calm about it, they have given him that big brother role and he takes pride in that, but I saw them all” I sniffled “did she have a easier pregnant” I choked out, I am emotional “she did, it was c-section again but it was planned to have that, she was ok with it” Imani chuckled “but can we speak on why you came down” Imani keeps saying that “I tell you one little thing and you do this!” Ti spat “they are in LA after two years, for the hip hop awards, she is here to support Oakley, I came to support her. And she is at mine and Damson home, they let us stay at hers at that time, but she sold it, so I let them” my eyes widened looking at Chris “they have been here for a week now, without anyone knowing” she is here “can’t you tell her we want to see her? We aren’t mad” Tianna looked at Chris “dad doesn’t know how to act” Chris huffed out “I will be at that awards, see where they can hide then. I just want to see my daughter” maybe we can try and see them, I just need answers too.

Chris has been on the phone constantly too “got us spots at the awards” he said “oh good but how are you going to be?” I am concerned “like nothing, I asked. I said is he going to be there, they said yes, three seats assigned to him. But we going, I am not going to start anything, I get it ok. She made us suffer; I hold my hands up. We are the bad parents, we get it. Robyn we get it” nodding my head “when I see them, I may feel emotional. I just need to know why, why she did that” I get it, we do need answers “just we need to be careful, please. Ti did say she felt like we was hypocrites with how we are acting towards Ti, but like this was a big thing. And she took away Aziel, how could she. She promised she wouldn’t do that to us and yet she did. I wonder what he looks like now, and another grandchild. All three in London? Are we that bad? This is crazy Chris, we need to change” I am so serious right now “maybe we are toxic” Chris said “says you, that wants to fight everyone, I am so serious we need to be careful with this” I pointed at him.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfic #Chrianna Fanfiction

[cynamonowo]

60 for aitsf? maybe with date and mizuki but i'm happy with anything that strikes your fancy :-)

ough it took a while but. here we go besties i ended up making this a sort of a sequel to a certain fic of mine i posted in november ;3 hope ya enjoy (endgame spoilers)

60. “Happy birthday.”

***

Whenever Mizuki would stop by Marble, either to chat with Mama or pick up Date, she’d find the place to be a time capsule. Always the same music, the same decor. The cloying scent of Mama’s perfumes and alcohol, drilling itself into her nostrils, the cigarette smoke soaking into her clothes, rows and rows of bottles with loud labels. She sits by the bar, crossing her legs and demurely lying her hands on the counter.

“Ah, Miss Mizuki!” Appearing from the backroom, Mama beams at her, clasping her palms together. “It’s been a while!”

Mizuki laughs awkwardly. “Good evening, Mama. It’s nice to see you.”

“Such a polite young woman, you. You must be, ah, twenty now, right? My, haven’t you grown… Makes a woman like me feel old.”

“Uh, yeah, I actually turn twenty in-” she checks her watch “-ten minutes?”

Clicking her tongue, Mama shakes her head. “And you’re not out there partying with your friends instead of coming by here?”

“Actually,” Mizuki says, scratching her nose, “I’m here to meet with Date.” 

"Oh, yes, he did mention you've left the nest! How the time passes…"

She moved out a few months ago, staying at the dorms close by the campus, nominally to shorten the drive there - but mostly because of his insisting they can’t be living while attached at the hip. She can tell it was his therapist’s suggestion, though, and quietly disagrees. Her roommates are okay, they don’t bother her too much, but - no one steals her pudding. No one talks to themself for hours on end. She shouldn’t miss it. She does. 

Her own therapist says she doesn’t do well with change - what a surprise. After the events of eight years ago and the ensuing pandemic-caused two years of basically not leaving the house, Mizuki finds herself, paradoxically, longing for the tableau of every day being the same. No surprises. No changes. Waking up, school, therapy, spending time with Date, going to sleep. Ordering groceries online, cooking the same things every week, not having to deal with stores full of bright lights and loud advertisements, people bumping into her as they mill around. The first few times they left the house after lockdown, either she had a meltdown or Date would get that empty look on his face when stuff got overwhelming; he couldn’t speak more than three words at a time for hours. Despite being a teenager, she would hold onto his hand or clothes, his gaze constantly flicking to her with worry. Once, his concern would annoy her. Then - it was normal. It was their normal, pieced together from the fragments after the storm. Who cares if it wasn’t too healthy? It was ugly and patchy and theirs. It was paid for in blood and death. 

Well. At least she no longer wishes it was her death. That’s progress. 

“Oh, he hasn’t been here for a few weeks now,” Mama says, unaware of the turmoil inside Mizuki’s head. “Such a shame, but I’m not too surprised.”

“Mm?”

“What happened with Ren, Shoko, and the others…” Mama’s expression grows more serious. “I still can’t believe his own boss would do that! I met her, you know? She seemed like such a sweet woman who cared so deeply about Date, yet she went and did this! And your parents, Mizuki! How could someone do that?!”

Biting her tongue, Mizuki nods. It’s okay. Mama doesn’t know the truth. Only four people in the entire world know. Saito’s dead anyway. It’s over. It’s been over for almost a decade now. Her hands curl, nails digging into the soft flesh.

“I know,” she says, quiet, hoarse. Mama pats her on the wrist, then turns to the entrance as the door opens.

“Oh hello honey!”

“Hi, Mama, hi, Mizuki.” Taking a seat by her side, Date pulls her for a quick side-hug. “Nice haircut.”

Grinning, Mizuki rubs the shaved part of her head. “You could take a page out of my book, y’know?”

“Are we having this conversation again?” Date sighs. 

“You do look quite girlish, sweetheart,” Mama chimes in, innocent. Mizuki reaches to tug on Date’s hair, today kept under control in a messy braid. During the lockdown, both of them stopped caring about their appearances, and it seems a part of that mindset still remains with him, considering he has let his hair grow out again. It’s likely he’ll chop it off one day with kitchen shears whenever he gets pissy about washing it again. What a nerd.

Mizuki sobers a little. The aftermath of Saito’s string of murders was tough on everyone involved, the quarantine not helping in the slightest. She’d have nightmares every other day, ones that would yank her out of sleep and have her throw up on the floor. Seeing raw meat would cause her hands to tremble. All of her classmates slowly grew distant, first offering insipid condolences, then ghosting her on NILE after graduation. In middle school, the online classes prevented them from forming closer bonds, even after they met up in person. Not like Mizuki was going out of her way to befriend them, preferring to sit by herself with a book. High school was much the same - no clubs, no extra activities, blowing off anyone who tried to chat with her. She’d come home right after classes and hang out with Date, watching TV or playing video games. With So Sejima’s money inherited, he quit his job at the MPD after a year of medical leave. Her skin crawls when she remembers the reason, the blood on the bathroom tiles, the thick scars running up the inside of his forearms, how his voice cracked when he told her the deaths were his fault. The lines of pill bottles, reminders on her phone for both of them to take their meds. Therapy has helped, yeah, but till she moved out, they’d spend a lot of time glued to each other’s side, Mizuki’s head on Date’s shoulder, his arm around her, spending the anniversaries cuddled on the couch, eating shitty junk food and barely talking. Once, Pewter came by, after he took over ABIS, and he and Date had a quiet conversation, one Mizuki did not even try to eavesdrop on. The floor by the trashcan ended up littered with empty beer bottles, Pewter sleeping over on a pullout mattress, thanking Date in the morning, giving Mizuki a faint smile. The only survivors. Each day a fight, more or less exhausting. And this is her victory. This is the sliver of life she carved out of this wrong end of the tunnel.

She checks her phone. Seven more minutes. Leaning against Date, she passively listens to his chat with Mama, puns, innuendo, et cetera. This time, it doesn’t seem like he has no heart for it. Good. She’s happy for him, even though the jokes are disgusting.

When there’s a pause, she horns in. “By the way, why did you want to meet with me here?”

“You really don’t know?” Date gives her a look. “Kid, your first drink should be under adult supervision.”

“So… you told me to come to Marble just before midnight, just because you want to have a drink with me.” Mizuki wrinkles her nose. “That’s so on brand, dude.”

"And yet you're still here," he points out. "C'mon, don't say you're going to bail on me."

"Can't have Mama dealing with your crap by herself." She sighs. In a more joking tone, she adds, "At least say you've got me a nice gift, old man."

"Hey, I'm not even forty, that's not old," Date bites back, but as soon as the words leave his mouth his expression sours. Right. Were he in the original body, he'd be around fifty, right? Mizuki brushes her fingertips over his wrist; he looks away, grimacing. Mama gazes at them, thick brows furrowing, before flapping her hand, clearly unwilling to know more than she needs to.

"Mizuki, honey, in this case let me know what sort of drink you want to take your alcohol virginity," she drawls out, salacious. 

"How vulgar," Date says to himself. Mama rolls her eyes.

"She's almost twenty! She can handle such talk!"

"Still. Gross. That's my daughter you're talking about." Shaking his head, he leans back in his chair. "There's still six minutes left till she's officially an adult, so for now give us two waters, Mama."

"Still a stickler for rules," Mama says wistfully but does as asked. When she hands Mizuki her glass, she says conspiratorially, her voice a theatrical whisper, "Don't worry about him, sweetie, I gave you some vodka."

"Liar," Date murmurs as Mizuki sniffs the clear liquid. "I may not be a cop anymore, but you're still not going to risk losing your license."

He's right. It is just water. Mizuki giggles into her hand, and Date throws her the told-you-so glance. She elbows him, and he smirks before passing her an earpiece.  The door opens to let in another client, Mama instantly moving to tend to him. The earbud in, Mizuki rests her cheek on her hand to muffle her voice, Date mirroring her. 

"Good evening, Mizuki," Aiba says. "I would wish you a happy birthday but we still have a few minutes to go."

"Hi, Aiba," Mizuki murmurs, unable to hide her grin. "How are you doing? Date not pissing you off too bad?"

"I'm still here, y'know," Date mutters with a pout. Mizuki throws him her brattiest eye roll. 

"I'm talking to Aiba, dummy. Don't interrupt."

"Hey, she's in my skull, how do you expect me to tune you two out?"

Despite no longer being an ABIS agent, he got to keep Aiba after a lot of whining on all sides. After she refused to work with another cop and Pewter got very offended at the idea of reprogramming her to remedy that, Aiba was officially classified as a disability aid so Date could have her. Mizuki is pretty sure there was some bribery involved, but does not ask. With how much money So left him, Date has replaced his audio system and sofa (what a dork) before donating a good chunk to charity. So must be rolling in his grave. 

Well. In Iris's grave. The body they buried in pouring November rain was inhabited by Boss, if only for a few minutes. In her body was Saito. In Daddy's, Iris. And Mom was dead for a year without anyone knowing. Mizuki did not suspect a thing, with Mom acting just as usual, cold and distant, complaining about her daughter's appearance and behavior dripping down her tongue like blood. She never smiled. She also never hit her the few times she and Mizuki saw each other. Granted, Mizuki would have told Date and he'd make good on his threats to report her for child abuse, and that'd ruin Saito's plan. But maybe if he lost control… Maybe if he played his role too well, no one else would have to die. Mizuki would gladly trade a few slaps and pushes and punches for not having to attend a multitude of funerals, not having to find her guardian half dead in their own bathroom, not having to pretend, for years and years, wishing for a different future, cursing herself for being a stupid child, stupid, blind kid who didn't know anything, isn't worth anything-

"Mizuki," Aiba says softly. "Are you alright?"

"You've been staring at nothing for a while now," Date adds, placing his hand on her back. Mizuki meets his eyes and smiles grimly.

"Got lost in thoughts," she says. "It's okay, though."

"Really?"

"Yup. Don't worry, old man." This time, she can muster up a better smile. "It is what it is."

"Hm," Aiba says, clearly not convinced, but doesn't push the matter. "In any case, I hope you are doing well, Mizuki."

She cringes. "Yeah, more or less? Today my roommate woke me up at five in the morning because she started blasting some eighties pop to, uh, get pumped up for the day. I almost had a heart attack."

"At least she has good taste," says Date, and Mizuki makes a face at him, remembering all those days she'd come home from school and find him lying facedown on the floor, listening to disco - which he'd call his "me time". Mizuki thinks he's full of shit. 

"If only I wasn't subjected to it before a coffee," she grumbles. "I had, like, three today."

"That's quite a lot," Aiba says. "Please ensure you consume enough magnesium to make up for what the caffeine has washed out of your system." 

"Sure, Mom." 

"Hey, she's worried," Date says with a pointed look. "Who the hell knows what kind of shit you're gonna pull when unsupervised?"

"Takes one to know one!"

"Like father, like daughter," Aiba adds cheerfully, and Date looks like he's considering violence. Mizuki giggles at him. 

"I like to think I'm smarter than him," she says, to Aiba's hum of approval.

"Very much so." With less levity, she says, "Truth of the matter is, both of us quite miss you, Mizuki, although Date will never admit to that."

"Because that's not true?" He doesn't sound convincing in the slightest, and Aiba sighs. 

"Aw, I know you love me, old man," Mizuki chirps out. 

"Whatever."

"So tsundere." It's easy to imagine Aiba shaking her head. "In any case, there's less than two minutes before midnight."

"Time to say goodbye to teenagehood," Mizuki says, morose. "At least I can drink now."

"Speaking of." Date waves at Mama, beckoning her back to the bar from where she's been flirting with the other customer. She groans but comes back, flashing them a coyish look.

"What can I get you two now?" 

"A beer for me," Date orders with confidence, "and something the kid’s gonna like.”

"Hm." Mama peers at Mizuki, calculating. "A cocktail would suit such an inexperienced palate… Perhaps a mojito?"

"Sounds good," Mizuki says with a shrug. "It's kinda like lemonade, right?” 

Belying her shape, Mama moves quick and with certainty, mixing the drink with steady hands and a bit of flourish in her pours. A bottle of rum, another of syrup, a mint leaf and a thin slice of lime, cut with one sharp flick of the knife. Mizuki watches with amazement; by the time the two glasses are placed in front of them, Aiba says,

“It’s midnight. Happy birthday, Mizuki.”

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” Date adds, raising his glass with a grin. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

Mizuki shakes her head with exasperation, but as she clinks her glass against his, she can’t help but smile back. “Thanks, old man.” She takes an experimental sip, and her brows jump up in shock. “Whoa.”

“You like it?”

“Mhm! It is kinda like lemonade.” Nice and sour, with a hint of freshness from the mint, something deeper in the background, probably the alcohol. It’s nice. She can understand why Date wanted her to have some. This is kind of - pleasant, drinking with her father, everything making sense now.

Granted, she thought that’d happen with her biological dad, but she’s made peace with that. Well. Mostly. Yeah, his death is a scar on the back of her thoughts, yet it’s come far from being the gaping wound. When she imagines Iris, Ota, maybe even Miss Hitomi celebrating this day alongside Date, the flood of possibilities that scenario opens up is one she can control. Not getting swept up, drowned, unable to breathe. A crying kid, grieving, hurting so much she thought it’d kill her. And - she’s going to visit their resting places later, like on every birthday, every special moment. Just because they’re all dead doesn’t mean they’re no longer a vital part of her life. More than a bittersweet memory, less than a ghost, something in the gray zone. An illness she can learn to carry for the rest of her life.

“You okay?” Date snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Spacing out again.”

“Yeah,” Mizuki says, and her voice is strong and sure and warm like a hug or a cup of tea. “I’m alright.”

Pausing, Date gazes at her, then nods. His tone, albeit jokey, is just as kind when he says, “Want to try my beer?”

“Hell yeah!” She swipes it from his grip and, without thinking, takes a long gulp - one she barely manages not to spit out. “Ough.”

“Thought so.” He smirks. “You’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“Hey, at least you don’t have to worry I’ll steal your gross beer,” Mizuki says, scraping her tongue over her teeth to get rid of the taste. Bleh, so bitter and powerful. Is this what adults like? No, wait, she’s an adult as well now. Shit. “I’ve got taste, unlike someone else.”

“That’s why you love me so much,” Date boasts, and she punches him in the arm. Lovingly, duh. “Hey, what was that for?”

“For being a stupid fu-”

“Now, you two,” Mama interjects. “Take your ribbing somewhere else, you're scaring away my customers."

“Sorry Mama,” they say in unison. She gives them an amiable look.

“Like father, like daughter, hm? Oh, don’t stare at me like that, you know I’m correct!”

“Strange minds think alike,” Mizuki says under her nose.

“I take offense to that,” says Aiba. 

“No, you don’t.”

“I will electrocute you, Date.”

“No, you won’t,” says Mizuki, and Aiba groans in defeat. 

They don’t leave Marble until closing time. When Mizuki’s Uber arrives, the driver honks the horn at her because she finds it hard to break the hug with Date, his palm against the back of her head and her eyes hidden in his shoulder. If she tears up, he doesn’t mention it. If she notices a shine in his good eye, she doesn’t say a word. It’s alright. They’re alright. This is the ending they’ve come to accept. 

She’s twenty years old, and the future opens wide, endless, beautifully neutral.

#ai the somnium files #aitsf #mizuki okiura #kaname date #mizuki date #rblgs > likes 💙 #sil.pdf #aitsf spoilers cw #sylwek.txt

[owlinthelarksnest]

Maybe this is TMI, but I’m honestly to scared to bring this up to a friend or my therapist, and for some reason I feel better committing this knowledge to the void that is the Internet more than brining this up to other people.

Idk, talking about sexual trauma is just hard, especially when there’s a nagging part of you that says you deserved it or it was your fault that you were in that situation.

Idk, when I told my mom that I was assaulted by a drunk guy I was acquaintances with in college, she said it was my fault for letting him into my dorm, and I think about that a lot. It was the first real time I had opened up about an experience like that to anyone, and I think it may have colored the way I see all of my past experiences. Because of this, I couldn’t even tell her in person or over the phone that I was raped two years later. It took me two weeks to come to term with the fact I was raped at all, and I wasn’t anywhere near home at the time, so I told her over text because it was bothering me in the middle of a class. Because of this, she still doesn’t believe that’s something that happened to me, but that’s a whole other can of worms.

The reason I got to thinking about this is that there’s this girl I like, and I think she likes me back, and part of me *wants* to be intimate with her even if it’s not sex, but I don’t know if I could even if I wanted to. It’s hard for me to imagine getting any enjoyment out of any sexual situation because nearly every sexual experience I’ve had has been a negative one.

So like, I’ve been trying to figure out why I am the way I am, and it hasn’t been pretty. Every time I turn over another stone, I find something ugly underneath. I ask myself why I can’t watch normal porn, and I remember that every time I was exposed to it was not of my own volition. I ask why I find shared bathing erotic, and I remember that I was regularly molested in the bath/shower by my dad’s girlfriend’s daughter who was effectively a babysitter. I can’t be in control of my own sexuality because it’s always felt like someone used against me or pushed on me in a moment of vulnerability. The only sexual situations I’ve had that have been 100% comfortable to me are ones where I’m all alone with no one to stare at me like a piece of meat, and even then I can’t even reach orgasm on my own because it’s like it’s too emotionally painful to work myself up to that point, or I feel dirty for indulging that part of myself. This doesn’t even begin to cover the fact that I wasn’t comfortable with the fact that I’m attracted to women until college when I was finally away from my mom, who treated me like a completely different person until I forced myself into a relationship with a guy for a month or two.

Beyond that, not only was I raped by a close friend who said he could “fix me”, but I fucking forgave him when he said he wanted to see me again. We got drunk at a strip club, he took me back to his place, had me give him a lap dance and molested me while trying to get me to come by talking about the girls at the bar. I’ve never told anyone about this or the thing about the babysitter because I’m too ashamed.

So many people have come into my life just because they want to fuck, and I don’t know why. I’ve always seen myself as disgusting, and among other reasons, maybe this has something to do with it. I feel ruined, unclean, like I can’t love anyone. I can never be a bride or a groom because I don’t feel like a human being worthy of that kind of happiness— I’m tainted. I’m unclean. I hate everything about myself and my body, so how could I ever love someone else? I’m just scared and don’t know what to do with myself.

#alice talks #tmi #negative / #/ abuse #/ trauma #/

[randolphbellmd]

i should write this all down somewhere but i want to tell people and i can’t yet tell anyone so i’m telling the 4 people in my screen who will click this post. hi friends.

in may i was talking to my (bad) therapist and kind of off-hand said "y’know, the only thing that’s been motivating me to finish my PhD is the promise of a gender neutral title. nothing else. it’s just the ‘Dr.’.” i joked about that 7 years ago, when i first started wondering about being nonbinary. i thought about it for another few weeks, and started googling HRT and top surgery and ftm/ftn stuff and after a while it wasn’t just “oh, lemme look this up and see what’s what about top surgery” it became actual research. i checked insurance coverage. recovery time. procedures. local surgeons. timelines. i put money into a savings account. i weighed pros (many) and cons (one: i’m scared of surgery). the next day said “sam, i think we really want to pursue this,” and reached out to the hospital. a month later had an appointment for a top surgery consult.

now, dear reader, it is in april of next year. like a full 8 months away. that was somewhat intentional. because if i can keep up my momentum with work, that means that i’ll be finishing my degree sometime between august and december of next year. surgery would likely be sometime around october or november, six months from the consult. right around my 30th birthday.

since i got the appointment consult, it feels like i’m actually truly living for me. not just going through the motions, but moving forward. towards something. i should keep the pace with work... because if i don’t then i risk influencing the surgery. i should work out... so that i can recover from surgery and feel good about my body during all of this process. even silly little things like making sure i’m going to the bank, eating oatmeal for breakfast, trying to fix my complexion, and telling my therapist that i don’t want to go on T because i want to like me and my body right now before i try to change more of it. which?? was such an out-of-body experience that she was like sam, did you hear what you just said and i was like oh... so antidepressants and transitioning do work magic, huh. even for me.

granted this hasn’t been for that long, maybe a month, but i have literally been stuck in a severe rut of mental unwellness for over three years. tried SSRI’s, two therapists, and had a neuropsychologist ask “have you tried keeping a planner?” three days before my 2nd pandemic xmas. the thought of having to live every single day of my life with just me to keep me going... awful. and it was impossible to think about a years long research project. started meds on new years and have been fueled by spite and bupropion ever since. but i finally have a light at the end of my PhD tunnel again, and it’s not just “make real money with a real job”. it’s this surgery. i have something to motivate me to work out that isn’t just “i don’t like the way i look”. it’s that i want to love my body when it finally looks the way i’ve always wanted it to look. everything will not magically be cured by a surgery but what i need is to feel like i can and should and will do things for me.

the sad part of all of this is that i can't really share this yet. there’s one (1) friend in real life that knows this is coming. i’m scared to tell my parents. i don’t talk to my other friends that much so this probably wouldn’t come up until next summer. i can’t tell anyone that the reason i am feeling good is that i am actually working towards becoming the most me i have ever been. it’s kind of lonely in that way but hey what the fuck else is new. i’m always lonely.

this got long. i’ll delete it later. but anyway. all those stories about how transitioning changes lives... i didn’t think it’d be me considering how slow and fluid my “transition” has been and how i have never really let go of former sam i’ve just grown into current sam... but... it is changing my life and the surgery hasn’t even happened yet. if you told me a year ago or two or even three that i’d be looking forward to a future, i wouldn’t believe you. and yet. here we are.

#happy 5 pm on a saturday from tumblr user jelly-tyson