#med school is so hard and i’m barely keeping myself together as it is

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

I don’t know if This is the place where people make requests but I was thinking Katsuki and y/n have been friends since childhood but as they grow up Katsuki takes the hero path and y/n chooses the villain path it’s like the 2nd year of UA Katsuki knows y/n is a villain and keeps it a secret she’s also in the class. I don’t know how much I’m aloud to ask but hiiii and if this gets picked thank you

ouuuu this is such an interesting request ! i luv me some angst once in a while ! this is also probably the angstiest fic ive written rn lmfaoo ! i tried to honour your request as best i could and i hope you like it ! (also yall keep enabling my katsuki friends to lovers addiction its not me its yall sooo🤥..) also here, reader’s family is part of a crime syndicate sorta like the chie hassaikai !

fem reader, blood n injuries, kinda angsty but i cant bring myself to fully write angst so take the bittersweetness <33 katsuki claims he hates reader but he doesn’t, reader has a sorta traumatic backstory but if u squint HARD, reader feels guilty, slight miscommunication trope, lemme know if i missed something !

"how long are you gonna keep doing this ?"

you're rolling up your bloody sleeves when you hear the question you'd been expecting fall from your best friends lips.

"what do you mean ?" you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

he narrows his eyes at you, you ignore him "don't give me that shit." he all but growls at you "how many more times are you gonna come to me all fucked up like this ?" you'd expected him to be louder, but you blame that on the fact it’s so late. angrier isn't the term you're looking for, you've known him long enough to know he's trying to hold back his anger. for you. you feel your stomach twisting at the thought.

"as long as you'll have me" you jest, smiling at him. you never took anything seriously. from the time you were kids until now, katsuki hates that about you. "you'll keep taking care of me, won't you suki ?"

you're spoiled, you think everything is a fuckin' joke. katsuki hates that about you.

he huffs, grabbing your outstrechted bruised and bloodied arm "i won't if you keep wakin' me up so late. we've got school tomorrow, you dumbass." his actions are softer than his words, like they always are. he cleans at your injuries with the med kit he has stashed away in his room for emergencies, emergencies being you. you snort and katsuki can barely cover the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

"you're such a goody two shoes." you sigh playfully, but your tone is more loving than playful like you'd hoped.

you'd been hiding your lifestyle from kastuki until you no longer could. coming to him one night heavily injured because you thought he was the only one you could come to, a decision you regret to this day, even as you sit here in his bedroom again.

you'd never meant to get him involved in your mess. katsuki, who's future was so promising. katsuki, who since the ripe age of 5 with starry eyes and bandaged cheeks proclaimed he would be the best. katsuki, who had wanted you to be together when that moment came.

but you had to ruin it. and you're sure that even as he sits there with you and cleans up your wounds, a part of him hates you for it. you don't blame him, how could you ?

you ruined everything. you always do—

you feel a finger flick against your forehead and when you focus again katsuki's eyes bore into yours.

"don't go zoning out on me, idiot. don't go falling asleep on me either. 'f i can't sleep, neither can you." you huff out a laugh at his petulant demand. you hum as he bandages your arm up carefully. " i think i can do that." you sigh.

"i wasn't asking." he retorts, looking up at you seriously "don't go knocking out on me."

you're left speechless at his words. because despite what he says, you know what he means. you've known katsuki for too long not to.

it’s stupid that such a simple sentence has you blinking rapidly, sniffling away the tears forming in your lash line. katsuki sighs. even when you tried acting tough, you’ve always been such a crybaby.

neither of you say a word as he finishes bandaging up your wounds. he insists on rewrapping up your hand and your heart squeezes because you know he’s stalling and it would be time for you to go soon.

it’s for the better, you think. despite your heart tying itself in knots, you won’t allow katsuki to get caught up in them.

he finishes and no words are exchanged. he stares at you, pleading for something you’re not quite sure about, or at least that’s what you tell yourself (you’ve known him way too long not to know what he wants). you avoid his gaze, your eyes growing misty again when you hear him sigh in defeat before he gets up from his bed and leaves the room.

while you’re throwing your jacket on and tugging your dirty boots back on (katsuki was a stickler about keeping his room clean) you can’t help but look around his room. it makes you giggle how he hadn’t really changed that much at all.

he’s thrown out most of his action figures but it seems he just couldn’t separate himself from the all might one’s. he’s still got the all might poster, his pride and joy that he never stopped showing off when you were kids. and then you see something on the shelf where he keeps all his manga.

katsuki walks back into the room and his shoulders visibly sag when he sees you ready to go. you don’t see it though, you’re focused on something on his shelf, he raises a brow.

before he can ask you anything though, you turn to him with a sly little grin, the grin he knows you have when you’re about to say some dumb shit. he hates that about you.

you’ve got a small rubber band looking thing pinched around your finger and katsuki feels his stomach drop.

"you still have this ? " you twirl the braided friendship bracelet you’d made for him when you were kids around your thumb and index finger, giggling when you see katsuki’s expression morph from curiosity to embarrassment. faster than you could blink, he’s already stomping over to you. he wobbles around a little on his bed to reach over your shoulder to snatch the bracelet back.

“don’t go snooping through my stuff !” his fingers are inches away from the bracelet when you switch it over to your other hand. a struggle breaks out where you push and shove at each other. you end up underneath him with him trying to open up your hand tightly clutching onto your bracelet.

“s’not snooping—if it’s just sitting out in the open !” you giggle. he finally manages to snatch his bracelet out of your death grip with a huff and a pinch at your thigh. you don’t miss the way he inspects it carefully before deciding it was unharmed and placing it right back where you’d found it. your heart squeezes despite yourself.

“either way, don’t go puttin’ yer dirty paws on my stuff. you’ll get your germs on them.” he snickers childishly. you’re just as if not more childish because you blow a raspberry at him. katsuki squishes your cheeks out with his hand in response.

you realize you feel a little too comfy, then realize you’re laying in katsuki’s bed and suddenly spring up to try and leave but a hand pushes at your chest, stopping you from doing so. “where the hell do you think you’re goin’, huh ?”

“home ?”

“don’t think so.” he utters simply, pushing you down onto his bed harshly “you’re not going anywhere.”

“katsu—“

“shut up. none of that bullshit you spout all the time” he leans down until your noses almost brush against each other, you inhaling sharply and katsuki grips the sheets next to your head “ if you get yourself in trouble again, i’m the one you’re gonna come bother and i’m trynna sleep. you’re staying.”

the asshole knows exactly what to say to make you feel bad, even if he doesn’t mean to. so you swallow the lump in your throat and concede “okay, fine” you nod “but i gotta leave super early, so don’t be surprised to see me gone when you wake up.”

“s’less trouble for me if you are.” he quips. he’s mean, he’s always been mean. yet his eyes tell a different story. there he goes again with those pleading eyes. the ones that make you want to spill your entire heart and more, to give your life and soul to him. you turn your face away from him.

“stop that.” he whispers, nosing at your neck, your heartbeat picks up and his does too.

“stop what ?” you're playing dumb, you know it. and unfortunately, katsuki knows it too.

“stop trying to act all hard. you know i won’t fall for that shit. those other extra’s might, but i won’t.” he’s awfully quiet. it almost gives you whiplash how he’d went from wrestling you to doing..whatever this was. you don’t mind, despite yourself. “known you too fuckin’ long, unfortunately.”

“yeah” you choke out “yeah, unfortunately.” you feel tears burning in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, that’d be unfair. you’re not allowed to be upset over something you’d caused.

“for fucks sake’s, yn” katsuki goes from gripping his sheets to gripping your wrists, you close your eyes. “ just—fuckin’—“

“i’m sorry.” you whimper, he pauses.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have come tonight, or any other night” you sniffle “i should’ve—you should’ve forgotten about me.”

you’re babbling, you always do when you get in your own head. when you refuse to tell him what’s bothering you, determined to do everything yourself, katsuki hates that about you. though it’s something he can’t really get too angry at you for, cus he does it too.

you’re babbling and you’re crying like you always do because you’re a crybaby despite acting like you’re not, and katsuki hates that about you. that’s why he sighs and flips you both over so you’re laying on top of him. immediately despite your better judgment, despite claiming he should’ve forgotten you, you cling to him like he’ll disappear if you don’t.

you’re clingy. you’ve always clung to him. you’re annoying, spoiled and bratty. you make dumb jokes and you never take anything seriously and you cry easily and katsuki tells himself he hates all of that about you.

because it’s easier to say than admit he’s hopelessly in love with you.

he doesn’t care about waking up late to treat your wounds, he’d stay up all night even if it meant fucking up his sleep schedule just to take care of you. he’d give everything he has just to hear you giggle at your own stupid jokes and he’d offer up every limited edition all might figure he has just to stay here and bicker with you over nothing. he’d always comfort you cus you cry easily and he wants to breathe the same air you do constantly, he’d swallow you whole and keep you safe right next to his heart if he could.

you’re clingy, annoying, spoiled and bratty and all of the above but katsuki would do absolutely anything for you.

so he comforts you as you lay crying into his chest. apologizing about something he has no idea about. he’ll ask and he knows you won’t answer him, but he doesn’t care. as long as you’re here.

you fall asleep soon after and you’re still clutching onto him. he reciprocates by holding onto you just as tightly, hoping it keeps you safe as you dream. it’s a stupid thought, he thinks. but it seems you’ve gone and wiped your germs onto his heart.

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” he whispers into the air. you’re still wrapped up snuggly in his embrace and his black sheets. in his room where you’d spent the majority of your childhood together. until you came to him with a snotty nose and big wet eyes and told him you weren’t allowed to come play at his house anymore.

fate must think it’s so fucking funny, because despite you not coming over anymore you’d ended up going to the same school every year afterwards, even now ending up in the same class. and with you sneaking into his room almost every night to have him clean up your injuries.

he knows you’ll be gone in the morning, somehow untangling yourself from his snake like grip. with tired eyes and some treat from that coffee shop you know he likes, your stupid way of apologizing to him. katsuki wants to tell you you don’t have to do that because he’d forgive any crime you commit. he’ll turn a blind eye to whatever you do even though he’s studying to do the exact opposite because it’s you and he loves you. but you’ll get in your own head and start assuming stuff. so he accepts your chocolate covered croissants and splits both with you.

you must’ve hit your head extra hard during your late night excursion to think katsuki would ever forget about you. you’re stupid that’s for sure, and katsuki wants to say he hates that about you. but that’d make him stupid too.

#eeeee i hope you liked this ! #i did but again i didnt rlly know how to finish this LEEELL #but i kinda like the abrupt ending #take the angst and leave me alone #no all jokes this was super fun to write despite my geart caving into itself <4 #i hope you like this op !! #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

I’ve typed and deleted and posted and deleted a lot over the last few days.

I am upset with my level of ability to handle everything that is going on. I look at others who work full time, go to school full time, are full time parents and they are (seemingly) doing this all relatively fine.

I watched my friend struggle through full time work and full time grad school and I know it was so hard for her but she pushed through and graduated. She was very real with her journey.

And I don’t know if this experience is usually like the former or the latter, and I guess ultimately it doesn’t matter because I not any of these people.

I keep searching for reasons why my mental health is declining so rapidly over this and I feel ashamed that it is.

I know I am capable of seeing this through and I know I will sacrifice my mental health and everything else because the fear and shame of failure are screaming at me to keep going.

But what if I don’t want to? I want my degree (I think) but I can’t handle the panic attacks and the tears and the loneliness. Every part of my life is suffering right now and I am only in ONE class. Work is only starting to pick up speed. Next semester is two classes together, October is when work starts getting slammed. The holidays are coming and I feel like I’m not going to get to be present at any of them.

I didn’t do any school work yesterday because I had to work 10 hours because my 7-3 schedule isn’t working out. There’s too many meetings and too many referrals and intakes and too much paperwork. I was too tired to do school work. Today I’m too sad.

I struggled really hard with my mental health in undergrad. I was worried about this happening in grad school, but felt I’d be better because I am older, I have more coping skills, I’m on anxiety meds, I thought I had more support this round. But I really only have M, who’s family is going through it with his grandmom. I have friends that are states away who seem too busy for me lately (which is fine, we all have our lives). So I’m just here by myself most days. Struggling on my own.

I’m trying to reach out about my mental health but the “duh, grad school is hard” attitude isn’t helping me. Grad school IS hard but is it crying in the shower, collapsing on the stairs from a panic attack, chest burning can’t breathe hard?

Why do I feel like this? Why can’t I just suck it up and push forward? What is wrong with me that it feels so hard????

I feel ridiculous and childish. Is this really not that hard? Do I just make things harder on myself ? I clock in at 7am and I do homework until 11pm. Sometimes I play on my phone a bit after 11 which I’m sure doesn’t help me sleep, but when am I supposed to do anything to make me feel the least bit connected to others or to make myself feel happy?

I understand my job, I am good at my job but I am not good at the paperwork that is building and building and taking over my apartment. I am good at grad school, I get 100s and know what I need to say, I am not good at finding the resources or writing quickly. Everything takes so much time and energy and I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired.

And because I didn’t do any work Wednesday or Thursday, yet again I cannot go see my mom for her Birthday.

I go away for 7 days next week and I am dreading it. It’s for my BAchlorette party and I just feel so angry about it. I don’t have the time to go away. I don’t know why I thought I could do that while in grad school. It’s Been planned since march tho. I thought I would be capable of it. But I am not. There is too much to do. And I tried my hardest to get ahead but it wasn’t possible. By Sunday’s I am barely hanging on, struggling to get my work in on time as things are due Sunday’s. M doesn’t even wanna be around me on Sunday’s because I am so panicked. I don’t think my friends want to talk to me anymore either hence being too busy.

I don’t want to keep doing this for another 15 months.

#journey to msw #grad school #MSW #masters of social work

[shadowsandstarlight]

.

#god I’m just. I’m so tired you guys #i am singlehandedly holding all of my irl friends’ mental states together #i am pretty close to the only thing preventing two of them from complete mental collapse #one of them attempted suicide last year during online school and I can’t help but blame myself for not staying in contact #because maybe if I had they wouldn’t have gotten so bad #they have medication they’re supposed to be taking for their depression but they absolutely refuse #they barely eat they barely sleep I’m just trying to keep them going #he’s my best friend and has been since second grade so I can’t let up on caring #he drinks and has come to school mildly hungover #i’m trying so hard to keep it together and not fucking cry whenever he tells me about his latest form of self-neglect #and the other one is so sweet and she’s also been a friend since second grade #but her family can’t afford to get them therapy or meds #they missed school the other day because they broke down #i keep these people running #and yet here I am barely keeping it together myself #i just want to collapse into the sweet one and just be hugged but they’re super anxious and I don’t want them to feel like a burden #i want to vent to them but I can’t #so the therapist friend I remain #while stumbling along through life #i just care so much and I can’t stop #this is why I fucking prefer apathy

[laineystein]

“This is new.”

The Boy™️ and I went out for his birthday on Thursday night. His favorite restaurant happens to be close to where we both grew up so we drove through the same neighborhoods that raised us - streets we walked to get to school or back and forth from the houses we grew up in. Of course, we ran into three separate people we knew. This seems to be a trend lately. It’s like our past, every little detail we’ve been so good at keeping hidden, keeps rearing its head, demanding to be dealt with. One of the people we ran into was a teacher we both had in yeshiva and they commented “oh, this is new!” And we both smiled and laughed and wished them a good shabbat. We didn’t talk about it then but we spent Shabbos together – alone – and we spent most of the night unpacking all of it.  

 This wasn’t the first time we’d heard it. It’s all anyone seems to say lately. When I had a ride to the airport at 4am and my mother strong-armed me into admitting who it was she said “oh, that’s new”. When his Modox parents were a bit passive-agressive toward me earlier in the summer because suddenly I was *everywhere*, I finally got his mother to admit that she worried about our relationship simply because it “came out of nowhere”…because “it’s new” and a lot of our “decisions seem impulsive.”

  No. This isn’t new. We’re not new. Our relationship is 15 years old. This has been a thing - many things, actually - for a decade and a half. I have been in love with this man for half of my life but to the world, even the people we love the most, yes - this is new. And I can’t argue with them. We don’t. We have no idea how to handle this. 

  We were fifteen and sixteen. Simply put - being a teenager means being young and dumb and somehow being terrified and craving happiness in equal amounts. He was (is) my best friend’s brother and they’re extremely close. On top of that, he’s Modox and I wasn’t and am not. His family never treated me differently, even when other families did - especially early on at yeshiva when it was very clear that I was raised differently than most of my classmates. But I loved them and they loved me. They loved me as their daughter’s best friend. It didn’t make sense to explain that I was more than that with their son - especially because we didn’t know what that was. 

We were teenagers! We were intense and fearless and manic and we were absolutely terrified of letting anyone down. We’re both the first born in our immigrant Jewish families. There has always been so much pressure on each of us to be the best - the smartest, the most hardworking. For him - the most devout. We both had to marry well and have big Jewish families. We were the product of generations of trauma - children and grandchildren of families that had consistently escaped persecution and now we were seemingly well adjusted teenagers in America, finally free to live the lives everyone who came before us fought so hard for. It was a lot of pressure, all the time. But together? No pressure. The things I struggled to tell his sister - how much I hated my yeshiva uniform, how marriage and children weren’t in the forefront of my mind yet…everything I couldn’t tell anyone else in the world, I told The Boy™️.

That’s where the name comes from - and those of you who used to follow my studyblr know I talked about him often. I never talked about him by name. His sister always thought I had someone in Israel that I had this big crush on. And I did. When he was in Israel with me I had a huge crush on him. But I loved him in Brooklyn too. I loved him when we traveled to France and Amsterdam and Italy. I spent four out of my five IDF civilians (time off from the military) with him and no one knew. We have lived so many lives together. We’ve experienced so many things, side by side, and no one had any clue. And we watched each other love other people and try to make it work with people that weren’t us. But ultimately he was the one who helped me through breakups and med school. He was the person that literally saved my life in 2020 when my shifts at the hospital during COVID had me so mentally and physically exhausted that I could barely get out of bed…literally. Then when things calmed down I realized, it didn’t matter what was going on in the world, he’s always been my biggest supporter and I cannot and will not live without him and the fact that we weren’t sharing this thing that made us both so undeniably happy just felt ridiculous and unfair.

But we didn’t know how to even explain everything so we kind of…didn’t? It was never “this is my best friend and we’re in love” it was “I’m going to Israel and he’s coming too”. We alternated Shabbos between his parents’ house and mine. All the while everyone is hesitant, almost nervous - this is new, this is new, this is new. It’s not new. But this is the first time we’re admitting how we feel and what we are to the people we love. He’s not just my friend’s brother. He’s not even just my best friend or my boyfriend. He’s the man I want to marry and have a family with. I get why our families are so confused. They have no idea all we’ve done and how so many of the things they celebrate in us - our jobs, our successes, our faith - is because of the other.

  So we have to start being honest. They’ll never truly get it if they can’t see how deep it is, if they can’t acknowledge the history. But how do we explain it? We are who we are because once upon a time we were both really struggling with our faith. We thought we were terrible Jews because we didn’t want the things our parents wanted. I didn’t believe in tzniut. Some days he didn’t either. We were doing things we were told kids in yeshiva don’t do! We were having sex and smoking weed and going to bars in the city because we could. But it wasn’t about being a part of the goy world. We didn’t want that. We just wanted to be who we were in the Jewish world and we had no idea how to do that. For so long it felt like it was us against the world - Jewish and gentle. We didn’t fit in with either but we could be who we wanted to be, together, in this weird in-between. He’s safety. He always has been. When I have a thought and I know no one in the world will understand it, I know he’s the exception. We always felt like we were judged, even inadvertently by people who swore they were being open minded and supportive, but together that was never a worry. So how do we explain that? 

We don’t. We won’t. We need to be honest about some things: about how far our friendship goes back, about the depth of it - then and now. Everyone else is free to make their own assumptions. They can draw their own conclusions or they can just learn to accept us as we are now. The weird part is that everyone has been much more accepting than we imagined - especially his sister. She loves our relationship so much, to the point that we feel bad for keeping it from her for so long. But we don’t know if we’d be who we are now if we hadn’t lived this other life together. We weren’t wrong. Having this one thing in life that is untouched by the world was magical. We still have days where we miss it, especially now as questions of marriage and children flood in. But we’ve agreed that we’ll be honest with our children. All of it. 

I guess a lot of this for us wasn’t just about *us* but about who each of us are as people. We’ve always worn so many labels. We’re completely opposites but we have fundamental similarities. We both love being Jewish. We’re loud and proud, unapologetic Jews. But we weren’t always! And the secret nature of our relationship aside, that’s what’s the most difficult for us to acknowledge publicly - myself in particular. I get a lot of that - often from many of you. I am so so honored that where I am with my faith today, at 31, is something so many of you admire. I can’t even begin to explain to you how much that means to me. But I guess it’s important to note that this was a journey. I was a mess. I always loved being a Jew but for several years I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know that I had the power to write my own narrative and live my life as a Jew on my own terms. The strength and confidence you see now is because all of the bullshit I went through before. Even now I am constantly learning. Every day I become more and more secure in my role as a Jewish woman, now that I can define what that means for me. 

And that’s all I want for any of you! Live your Jewish truth! We are all products of so much hardship. We really do deserve to be the best version of ourselves. We deserve happiness and security in our relationships, in our careers, in every aspect of life possible. And if you’re not there yet - if you wake up wondering where you fit into the Tribe, that’s okay! You will get there! Being a Jew is a super power!!! You just need to figure out how to be a Jew in a way that makes the most sense to you. There truly is no one way to be a Jew - no wrong way to be a Jew. Being a Jew, in any capacity, makes you an awesome Jew. I wish I had someone to tell me that but I didn’t. It took me many years to be where I am now. So for anyone who needs to hear it: you’re an awesome Jew and I’m so proud of you! 

#blog-ish things #Jew things #the boy™️ #personal #about me #this was kind of all over the place so if you read it...apologies but also thanks? #I tried to make sense but it's a mess because at one point in my life I was a mess and some days I'm still a mess AND THAT'S OKAY! #anyway. you're all wonderful. I hope you're enjoying your weekends!

[calpalirwin]

Nicest Asshole You’ll Ever Meet

Request: May I request a Lip Gallagher X Fem!Reader fanfic? Maybe set during season 1 or 2? Y/N is Kevin’s little sister and gets jumped on the south side. She gets badly beat up and barely makes it back home to her brothers house. No ones home so she goes to the Gallagher’s and Lip answers. He patches her up and it’s cute and fluffy. Maybe she falls asleep in his bed and they end up cuddling and then sharing a blunt? (You don’t have to add the blunt if you’re uncomfortable) Thank you love :)

Word Count: 1.3k

And away, and away we go!

__

You cursed as you stumbled your way down the street. Kevin was gonna have a field day when he saw you. It wasn’t your fault you had broken the single rule he’d given you. You hadn’t started the fight. Why the fuck would you with odds like that? 5 to 1 was hardly fair. And while they had landed their fair share of kicks and punches on you, you held your own. Kevin had said that you couldn’t start any fights, but he never said anything about finishing them.

“Jesus? Get hit by the L? You know you’re supposed to stand behind the yellow line right?” a voice quipped, and you turned to find the eldest Gallagher boy sitting on his front steps, a cigarette dangling between his lips.

“Reckon I’m still better lookin’ than you, Lip.”

The boy scoffed, before dropping the cigarette and snuffing it out with his boot. “C’mon,” he said, rising to his feet and jerking his head toward the house. “I’ll help ya get cleaned up.”

You waved him off, “It’s fine. I’ll ask V for help.”

“She’s not home. Neither is Kev. Alibi.”

“Shit.”

He shrugged. “So, you comin’ or not?”

“Fiona or Ian home?”

“Nah. Work.”

“Debbie? Carl? Liam? Fuck, Frank?”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ nanny? No. I’m the only one here. Why? You afraid of me or something?”

“Pffft, no…”

Lip smirked. “Oh, I get it. Alright. Did Kev tell you to stay away from me? That’s rich… What did he say? Like the reasons?”

“He said you’re too smart for your own good, and that you’ll use those smarts to get into every girl’s pants.”

The boy laughed. “Yeah, he’s probably right. But he’s gonna be mad either way. You might as well be cleaned up when he flips his shit.”

You blew out your next breath in a huff before crossing into the yard, officially in Gallagher territory, and following Lip into the house.

“Just have a seat,” he said, nodding at the couch before jogging up the stairs.

You complied, whatever adrenaline you had finally fading your body, pain taking its place. You wondered briefly if you looked like how Lip had said you did; like you had been hit by a train. You definitely felt like you had.

You turned to the sound of Lip’s boots thundering back down the stairs, a first aid kit in his hands. His crystal blue eyes studied you carefully as he shook soft brown locks of hair out of his way. “You’re bruised pretty badly, but I don’t think any of your cuts need stitches so that’s good. And nothing looks broken. So, what happened?”

“Stupid girls,” you hissed through your teeth as he started dabbing at your face with an alcoholic wipe.

“Hold still. Sooner I’m done, the better.” One of his hands came up to cup your chin to keep you from flinching away, his hold surprisingly gentle. “Stupid girls did this? Like from school?”

“Yes, like from school.”

“Did you get them back?”

“Sort of. 5 to 1 makes it a little hard to do much besides get your ass kicked. But I finished it, if that’s what you’re asking. And they jumped me. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to walk into odds like that.”

“5 to 1? Shit… so this was Leah, and her stupid fuckin’ friends?”

“That would be them.”

“Which means it’s Tyler’s fault. And Kev warned you about me? Damn…”

“Tyler’s a piece of shit who’d flirt with a rock if it’d flirt back.”

“Pretty sure he has.”

You laughed, then winced, clutching your side. “Don’t make me laugh, asshole.”

“Let me see,” he said, his hands falling away from your face.

“What? No! Are you insane?”

“Oh, relax. I’m not even gonna see your bra, much less your tits. Now lift up your shirt or I’ll do it for you.”

“Fine, fine,” you grumbled, pulling up on your shirt, both of you sucking air through your teeth at the sight of a giant splotch of purplish blue.

“Don’t bite my head off, alright?” he asked, his fingers hovering over your exposed skin.

You squinched your eyes shut, breathing harshly. “Do it.”

His fingers grazed across your ribs, again with a gentleness that took you by surprise. “Probably just badly bruised. That, or you have a really high pain tolerance. Or you’re a really good liar.”

“All of the above,” you grinned sarcastically, dropping your shirt.

“Well, not a whole lot for you to do besides rest.”

At the mention of rest, you became aware of just how tired you were. “Yeah. Rest. Sounds good. Thanks, Dr. Lip.”

“Anytime. C’mon, I’ll help you upstairs.”

“Excuse me?”

“What? You need to rest. And I’ve slept on this couch. It’s not exactly comfortable. You can use my bed upstairs.”

“Or I could go next door. To my bed.”

“Where Kev will find you all bloody and bruised? Nah. Plus, it’s too far.”

“Stubborn fuckin’ Gallaghers…”

“Hey, this stubborn fuckin’ Gallagher just played doctor, and offered you his bed.”

“Where he can play more doctor? Pffft, yeah right. I’m fine here.”

Lip’s eyes rolled. “I promise to not sleep with you. There. Now, are you gonna move on your own? Or do I gotta carry you up there myself?”

“Fuckin, Christ…” With his help, you made your way up the stairs and into a room with a single bed pressed against one wall, a bunk bed perpendicular with it against another wall. “It’s not the top bunk, is it?”

“No, it’s that one,” he said, nodding at the singular bed.

“Well, thanks I guess. For everything.”

“You’d be surprised how often I do this,” he tried to joke as you got settled on the bed and he fiddled with something at the desk.

“Play doctor to all the banged up kids in the neighborhood, huh? Wow, way to make a girl feel special.”

He gave a short laugh. “Have Carl as a sibling, and nobody would ever need med school.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a lighter. He brought whatever it was he’d been fiddling with- a blunt you now realized- to his lips, lighting it and taking a deep hit. “Here,” he breathed, passing it your way.

You took a hit, welcoming the hazy cloud the enveloped you, feeling the bed dip as Lip crawled in beside you. “I thought you weren’t gonna sleep with me,” you pointed out as you handed him back his blunt.

“Do you see me stripping?”

“No…”

“Exactly. I may have offered you my bed, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna sleep on my fuckin’ floor. I’m nice, not a gentleman.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘asshole’ actually.”

“Nicest asshole you’ll ever meet.”

You took turns passing the blunt back and forth, your back pressed against his chest as you crammed together on the small bed. “Fuckin’ bitch,” you cursed Leah and her friends when you took a hit that left you sputtering, the coughs causing your sides to ache.

“I can fuck Tyler up if you want,” Lip offered. “And I can talk to Mandy about helping you with Leah. Like I personally won’t fight girls, so she’s my go to for that shit. Needed her help back when Debbie was getting bullied.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, cuz that’s what I need. More problems.”

“Well at least start walking with us then.”

“Aw, is Lip Gallagher offering to protect sweet little me?” you cooed.

“We look after our own,” he said as easily as if he was telling you the sky was blue. The bed creaked as he reached over you to turn off the lamp on the desk, before he settled behind you again.

You lay there wondering just what your brother had been thinking in telling you to avoid the boy. Sure, he had more charm and smarts than he knew what to do with. And he was a certifiable asshole. But he was a nice- and admittedly very cute- asshole. And you felt safe with Lip’s arm thrown gingerly across your waist, and his slow even breaths lulling you sleep.

__

Tag List

@thanossexual​ @markofdean79​ @philthepegacorn​ @youngblood199456​ @tarltongrl96​ @ineedmorefanfics​ @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​

#nicest asshole youll ever meet #lip gallagher #lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher x female reader #calpal irwin

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Christmas Specials: Fishcake

CW: Some hint of dehumanization and references to Bahram’s depression/past breakdown at the end, some brief emeto references, but really this is just fluff. Oh, also brief unintentional ableism that Miah calls out.

Introduction | Siren Song | Cries | Here | Not Sure | Draw Blood | Fish | Signs | Stop | Something New | Help | Please Don’t Let Me Drown  | Fish Food | Squeaky Toy | Fading | Fishcake

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES

December 24th, 20XX 11:15 pm Mer in Residence: 71 Days

Miah showed up tonight with a Christmas present for me, and now I feel like a giant dick for not having anything to give her. 

Christmas just isn’t a thing in my family. I mean, I have cousins who go overboard with it, kind of a fitting in thing, but my family never did. Baba does some kind of fast, but for Maman it’s just another day and for me it’s always meant mostly a day where I played video games all day because I didn’t have to be at school or work. 

Oh, I need to call Baba and Maman tomorrow, note to self. She always gets worried about me right around the end of the year, what with how they figured out I was quitting school and everything.

I guess getting a phone call from a hospital leaves a bloody impression.

Anyway, Miah comes in with this big shopping bag in her hand, waving at me all bright and sunny and cheerful. She set the bag down long enough to berate me for - she assumed - having not taken my medicine on time. 

For the record, she was right, but I didn’t tell her that.

Nearly drowning in saltwater made my lungs apparently terribly angry with me, so for the next eight days I’m on a run of antibiotics to handle a lovely case of bacterial pneumonia. Would’ve been far handier to get pneumonia right away, but instead I ended up in Urgent Care yesterday, paying 200 dollars and waiting two hours to see a doctor for less than ten minutes. 

Dr. L says she’ll reimburse me the cost, but still. 

Miah asked me how I was feeling, I said I felt fine, really, and then of course I had an awful coughing fit just to prove myself a wonderful liar. The coughing’s the worst part - every time I really get going, it’s like being underwater all over again. I can feel my lungs fighting to inflate, to take the air in, and I can hear how hard I’m working to get enough air to stop coughing at all. Miah can’t hear it, but she can see it all right, and she looked worried.

I signed, “I’m fine, it’ll stop, the doctor says it will,” and she frowned at me, but let it go, I guess. While she had her face turned away to greet the mer, I opened the pill bottle and dry-swallowed the meds really fast. Sometimes there are benefits to Miah not being able to hear things.

The mer - Kima, I can call him by his name in these notes, the ones only I see - was already at the side of the tank, watching us. He’s perked up a bit lately, since I started giving him live fish on the days Dr. L isn’t around and Miah brought him all these enrichment things. We’re doing what we can, but I know it’s still not enough.

Enough would be figuring out where his bloody family is and getting him back to them, but I just… I can’t even begin to explain, even to myself, the logistical nightmare of hauling a six-foot-long mer back to the ocean and finding someone who would take him back up north where his family likely is in the middle of bloody fucking December.

It’s the right thing to do, yeah.

But it’d just be too hard to pull off, not without losing… my whole taped-together life, yeah? Plus I’m still dealing with trying to figure out who exactly is my real employer at this point - who’s paying Dr. L - and what they want from the mer’s… thing he can do.

Miah glanced over at him and signed, “Don’t worry, I have something for you, too,” and Kima just looked back at her, head cocked to the side. She looked over at me and signed, “It’s a fish-cake.”

I have to admit, it took me a second to even begin to respond. My hands just… hung in mid-air, before finally I asked, “A what?”

“A fishcake. It’s like a fruitcake, but so much worse.” She leaned down to dig around in the big bag and pulled out a box, pausing to add, “I had to wrap it and box it or the car would have smelled horrible for days,” before she picked up and laid the box on my desk, opened it, took out something wrapped in layers of plastic, and unwrapped that, painstakingly slowly.

I glanced over at the mer, who watched with total fascination. Maybe he’d caught the sign for fish, he’s incredibly food-motivated. Which makes sense, of course, probably with his pod he’d spend a lot of his day eating and hunting for more, but

Bahram. Focus.

She was right - as soon as the plastic came off, I could smell it. 

“How can you handle that? Isn’t your sense of smell… really good?” Ah, yes, I am always so proud of myself when I forget a sign for a word I want to say and have to sort of cobble together the spirit of it with other signs.

She looked at me with this sort of dry are you kidding me expression, then signed, “I’m deaf, B, not a superhero,” in a way that made me feel about ten inches tall.

“Sorry. That’s an awful smell, though.”

And it was. I like fish as much as the next man, but this was foul. She grinned at me and picked up the tupperware the fishcake was in using towels to protect her hands from picking the smell up too, I guess, and went over to the ladder up to the platform. Her back was already to me, so I couldn’t ask her the question I had, or tell her not to do that one-handed. Instead, I just sort of… got up and hovered uselessly while she climbed up without looking back, and then followed her up there.

The platform makes me… nervous, now. I stay closer to the ladder, farther from the water. I hope the mer, that Kima doesn’t think I don’t want to be close to him or something.

Miah took the lid off the tupperware and waited. Soon enough the mer popped up near us, interested in what we were doing on the platform. 

I watched those nasal slits open wide when he smelled the fish. And I watched how his eyes went big and shiny with excitement. Whatever Miah had put in the foul thing, he wanted it.

She dumped it into the water - I didn’t see much, other than a sort of loaf-shape and a sense of texture I never want to think about again - and Kima tore into it. It was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen, and I have actually watched Kima eat raw fish that was living seconds before. I had to look away - and so did Miah, but she was laughing. She can’t hear herself, only feel the vibration in her own throat. Her laughs kind of sound almost honking, choked-off, just totally un-self-conscious noises she’s barely aware of.

I should tell her that I like the way she laughs.

Oh, I absolutely should not do that.

Maybe I should, though.

She grinned at me, still laughing, and signed, “This is disgusting!”

“It is,” I signed back, “And it’s your fault, don’t forget that!”

She was still laughing when Kima looked back up at us, fish bits smeared around his mouth, and she signed, “Merry Christmas, K-I-M-A,” to him. He stared back, signed yes, and then dove back under the water, present utterly devoured, leaving only gross little particles I will probably have to hose off the sides of the tank on cleaning day when the filters can’t quite pick them up.

Miah looked at me, and I just thought, you know, she’s really pretty even under the sun lamps, and nobody is pretty in that light. Then she signed, after this moment of stillness, “I bought you a present, too.”

“Me?” I pointed back at myself, blinking, surprised. “I don’t do Christmas, M, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I know. But I still bought a present. Can I show you?”

“Um, sure.” I get nauseous when I’m nervous. For a second, climbing back down the ladder, I thought I’d just get sick all over myself. I was badly designed, my defense mechanism is just to vomit on myself to scare predators away, clearly my body thinks pretty women are dangerous and I have to embarrass myself until they stop looking at me.

Finally, though, we were back at my desk. The smell… lingered. I’ve since burned the candle Miah got me, and the sulfur from the matches and the scent of the candle itself have largely done away with it, but when we got back, it was still powerful. 

She didn’t pull anything out of the bag, instead she just took a small card out of her back pocket and handed it to me. 

I looked down at it. “Alborz?” I realized I’d spoken out loud, looking down, and looked back up quickly so I could repeat it in sign, so she could see. “A-L-B-O-R-Z? A gift card to a restaurant?”

She nodded, quickly, signing so fast I was having trouble keeping up. I guess… was she nervous, too? “It’s food like you grew up with, yes?”

“Yeah, more or less. I mean nothing is better than my mother’s food. But why-”

She reached out and grabbed my arm with one hand to stop me, leaned in so close that the smell of this super subtle perfume she wears was stronger, for a second, than the smell of fish. “B,” She signed, with heavy, slow emphasis, “Think about why I bought you this.”

I just looked at her. I didn’t get it at all, and told her so.

I’m so bloody dense.

She sighed, throwing her hands up in the air with an eye-roll and a smile, and then signed, “When are you taking me there?”

She had to repeat the signs three times before I realized she was asking me on a date.

So anyway, I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink tonight, and also I think I celebrate Christmas now.

Date-mas.

That was an awful joke. I’m leaving it there just to properly shame myself if I ever reread this.

---

@astrobly  @burtlederp   @finder-of-rings   @slaintetowhump   @moose-teeth   @misspelledwitch   @whumpfigure   @whumptywhumpdump   @boxboysandotherwhump   @whumpywhumpwhump   @yet-another-heathen   @fanmanga1357-blog @justabitofwhump  

#mer whump #christmas specials #signs of the sea #depression tw #breakdown mention tw #emeto references #mer whumpee #fluff #angst and fluff #all comfort no hurt #referenced drowning #bahram anvari #miah kirsse

[emilx311]

Life Update

Hey all, so I pretty much vanished off the internet for the past few months (whoops sorry about that) but things have been crazy irl! Here’s a bit of a summary for those who were wondering what happened to me:

So, for context sake a few fun facts about me. I work as a night auditor at a hotel and have done so since August 2019, I graduated Uni with a degree in Justice Studies in 2018, and I have several minor but chronic health issues that lead to me being very low energy-ie having less spoons than a normal person and needing more sleep.

Aside from the issues already inherent with 2020′s....everything we had several more personal issues at my (I say my because I work there) motel. Mainly around staffing, and especially around night audit staffing.

Since I was hired we’ve gone through 5 or 6 other night auditors (I think? maybe more). And they often.....quit with barely any notice. So, being our only consistent night auditor I’ve been called in last minute several times over the past year leading to 6 or even 7 day weeks. (Not Fun!)

Even when we have had another trained night auditor with us they often also do day shifts since we only need them for 2 nights a week. Turn over for day-shift people has been barely lower than turn over for night shift, which has led to them having to be called in last minute to cover day shifts when people left which means I also had to be called in last minute to cover the night shifts they were no longer able to do, leading to us all working 6 or even 7 day weeks (Super Not Fun!)

In summary: I’ve worked more overtime days than I have had vacation days in this last year. Heck, the last time I tried to go on vacation for like 5 days I got called in every other day and my boss (our regional manager) paid me double for the shifts I worked and refused to touch my vacation pay because even he acknowledged that was in no way a real vacation at that point (this was at the beginning of September btw...)

This was all compounded when our general manager (gm) left in late July. Her reason for leaving was super fair since she got a better job offer, similar pay to what she was making, less work since she would no longer have to do all the duties our boss should have been doing but was instead pushing off unto her. Super sad to see her go but wished her the best (still miss her) :(

This left our under manager (gsm) and me as the main people in the hotel (ie those who have been there the longest, only the gsm and housekeepers had been there longer than I had at that point-and I had not even reached my 1 year yet). Which, not super great, but the other people we had were okay so we would manage. So the gsm and I held things together and started basically running the hotel (shout out to the gsm here because I love her and she is actually like 5 years younger than me but has accomplished so much more, I am in constant awe of her tbh). Our boss (who is....kind of dumb sometimes) realized this. We became his golden girls (he plays favorites hard).

It is at that point that someone above our boss’s level in the company (he’s in charge locally, but we do belong to a large corporation, ah capitalism) hired disaster #1 as our first new gm. Disaster #1 was creepily cheerful and utterly dismayed to find out his job actually involved him doing work! Like working at the front desk during his shifts and doing manager stuff instead of it just being him sitting in the back looking important and giving us encouragement occasionally. He payed no attention to his training. He did very little of his basic work let alone the manager stuff. He took credit and praised “the team” whenever something went right and pushed blame off him unto everyone else as hard as he could when something went wrong (I once pointed out he forgot to do something and he legit said to me “can you prove it was me?” I said “yes” very firmly.)

Now, as the auditor my job is to spot, point out, and fix errors. He hated coming in to to work after me because I spotted and pointed out everything he missed or did incorrectly. At first just because I happened to notice them. Then it became personal, he cornered me one morning at shift change and told me that he dreaded coming in to work after me because I was always so critical, and he had so much to do during his shifts other than just front desk stuff (he did not, most of the “manager” stuff he was even trained in doing at this point he shoved off unto the gsm) he then disparaged the gsm. I was done, I was pissed (you do not say mean things about my gsm, nope, not okay, I will cut and slab you*) and kind of hurt (why are you taking my corrections as personal attacks? Why are you saying I’m mean for doing my job?) So, if he wanted to make it personal I decided to make it personal and made it my mission to find and point out everything he did wrong, no more overlooking small things as I had been. The pressure of actually having to work made him quit (shocking, not!).

It was also around this time that I signed up for an LSAT prep course. Because I hate myself and now that I’ve been working for a couple years and have some money saved up I want to follow through on my plan to get either a Law Degree or a Masters Degree and so am working on taking the LSAT and applying to law schools. No, studying has not been going well, time and energy have also been preventing that.

Fast forward a couple months and 2 of our best employees went on holiday (one they had scheduled months before). It’s the start of January, they will be gone for two months. In that time our boss had hired our next gm, idiot #2. Just as these two leave the other front desk person we’d been training quits with no notice. We are short staffed....again (yay more 6 and 7 day weeks, ack). To fill in this gap our boss brings in idiot #3 from one of the other 2 hotels in the area our company owns.

Idiot #2 is semi okay, he is not manager material, even months after he was hired to be gm he does not have the training and is basically just a front desk agent. He is bad about doing things himself unless you specifically direct him to with very clear instructions, but he can do the minimum (although he failed the coffee test. After idiot #1 I wrote out very, VERY specific instructions for how to clean our coffee station....he is not able to follow them. The gsm and I joked about the coffee test after I first wrote the instructions, that someone actually failed it....we despair). So, he does not think ahead, do any extra, or solve many problems but at least he rarely creates problems.

This brings us to idiot #3. I do not know what goes on in his head (very little likely) but man oh man. Some examples: the time he-after being asked like 4 times-actually sign off on the checklist after cleaning the laundry room (as everyone is supposed to once a shift) but did so in sharpie instead of one of the many dry-erase markers left around the front desk for no other reason than the clearly laminated sign off sheet. Or the time he decided on his own to give someone a satisfaction refund, far larger than it should have been (which only managers and those with special permission can do in any of the hotels, so he should know better but somehow....)

We have a book for front desk to write messages on about issues for the next people. Usually we have a note or two on any given day. Pretty much every day he worked it was full and even going onto the next page. Idk how, it’s like he touched something and issues sprung up. and Guess who got to be the one to fix all of them (woooo).

For the past few weeks I have had 2 days a week where the only people who worked were me and idiots #2 and #3. It’s been horrible. In addition, my days off were changed for these months so I haven’t been able to meet my one bubble inclusive friend to vent like we usually do once a week, because that time no longer fit in my schedule. I have been living in exhaustive hell for the past couple months, and even before that as I tried to lighten the gsm’s load as much as I could as she took on a lot of the gm stuff. My house is a mess, tbh my life is a mess because work has left me so tired and stressed that I basically get home, shower, collapse onto bed, read a bit, sleep, wake-up, find some sort of food, get ready for work, go to work, and repeat. Even on my days off I’m sleeping 75% of the time and resting to try and shore up my spoons (of which I already have fewer than most people) to get through the work week.

tl;dr Due to ridiculousness I ended up unofficially co-running a hotel and it’s sucked up so much of my energy that all my free time is pretty much spent sleeping just to ensure I’m able to get through my work weeks semi-functionally. Everything about my life has been a mess, to the point where I’m legit not sure how I’ve been keeping myself fed, clean, on meds and just generally....alive.

#personal #emi says #life update #about my 2020 and early 2021 #it's been hell #and not for the usual reasons #no #I'm not okay #but that's fine #that's pretty normal at this point tbh

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XXXII. The End of the Road

A/N: This is it folks! The end of the road... I want to thank you all for every message and for that, especially my love anon (now not anon anymore) because seriously you’ve been the wind blowing on my sail. 

Also like I’ve said, I’m all in for blurbs into Harry’s and Indie’s life together so I might surprise you with some when you least expect them ;) Thank you thank you thank you 

BLUE’S POV

My hands are sticky and trembling as I wait on the line. The dim lights really give the café such a cosy sense to it and the dark brown of the furniture and the bricks also make it look like you were inside an auburn tree. It also smells delicious, like cookies and cinnamon and berries deliciously mixed with the strong scent of coffee.

My heart stops beating as I stand before her with just the desk and the vintage looking cashier between us. She hasn’t yet looked at me when she asks.

“What would you like to have, dea-?”

Her tone dies down when her hazel eyes finally set on me and mine investigate hers as I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Indie.” She whispers.

I give her a timid smile. Dylan’s mum calls someone named Molly and asks her to take care of the cashier as she comes out from behind the desk. She’s wearing an apples-pattern apron tied around her waist and her hair, shorter now than ever, is barely coming out of a low ponytail on the back of her neck. She lets out what could be described as a nervous chuckle when she stands closer to me. I can tell she doesn’t know how to greet me so I give her a hug. Her arms wrap around me and I feel her sighing against my chest.

“Let me get us a cup of coffee and a muffin.”

I stand there watching her work and hold the cute lilac plate with the huge muffin when she tells me and she takes both our coffee cups with tiny plates underneath to a table near one of the windows. It’s raining outside but it’s nice to watch and hear the rain from inside the café. The fire is lit so it’s nice and warm inside too.

“The place looks lovely, Amalia.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. “You look stunning.”

I smile at her before I add some sugar to my coffee and stir it with my teaspoon. She does the same.

“It’s very nice to see you. This muffin right here is called Indie Blue.” She grins. “It’s got vanilla and blueberries.”

I nod and smile at her but I’m sure she can tell my eyes get teary. I don’t deserve this. The fact that after three years, Dylan’s mother still makes a muffin and names it after me, when all I’ve done is… Move on just breaks my heart.

“How are you, love?” She sets her hand over mine. “Tell me about Med school.”

“I’m good.” I lie. “Med school is fine. It’s getting harder every year but I like it more every year too so that’s good. I feel like we’re all growing up so fast though. I mean Olivia’s leaving, Jason too…”

It almost surprises me how I can still talk to her as if we were family. I guess in a way we are. We went through the loss of Dylan together. She helped me and I think I helped her too, so I think we will always be somehow connected.

“Where are they leaving?”

She grabs a fork and eats some of the muffin after she took the paper of it and I eye the fork she set in front of me. Her kind eyes don’t leave mine and she looks so much like Dylan, even though the colour of their eyes is different, the way they look is the same so I can’t look into her eyes for too long. They look at you as if you were the most interesting person in the room, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying, you can talk about garden dwarfs and still be interesting to them.

“Olivia’s going to Paris. She’s very excited. She wants to be a gynaecologist and she got an internship on the maternal unit so she’s very happy. And Jason’s going to the States. He’s only going to be gone for three months, thank God.” I chuckle.

“Not long.” She grins.

“What about you? How are you and Robert?”

“We’re good, yeah. Robert’s back on the road. He went back last year and I’ve been good, pretty busy with the café and the organisation.”

My eyes drop to the muffin between us when she mentions that and I take a forkful and bring it to my mouth.

“I’m also babysitting now. D’you remember the Holts next door?” I nod. “Well, they had a baby and I stay with her sometimes.”

“Nice. I bet she’s cute.”

“She is so cute, so chubby too.” She giggles.

I giggle and fear the moment when our conversation will die enough so that she would ask me why I came. I don’t need a reason to come see her and I could always say I just wanted to catch up with her, but this woman knows me like my Mum does and I know she knows there’s something I want to tell her.

She asks me about my Mum too but I know they still talk and she tells me about Caroline, Jess and Sean. She keeps in touch with them too and it’s nice to hear life’s good for them. Sometimes I’m sad I lost contact with them after Dylan’s loss but it was just too hard to see them. It was like I couldn’t stop thinking about who was missing. 

“How are you, really, Blue?” She asks.

I know what she means. I take a deep breath. There goes nothing. 

“I met someone.”

My voice croaks and I didn’t know the tears were so close to falling until they roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away and try my best not to sob and even though her eyes are teary too, her hand rests on mine again and her thumb caresses the back of my hand.

“I’m very happy for you.”

My eyebrows meet and I shake my head. I knew she would be. 

“I just wish I could talk to him. I want to tell him I haven’t forgotten about him. I never will…” I let the tears roll down my cheeks. “I love him but… I’ve just been… So lonely and it’s been so hard and I wasn’t looking for him, he just… Showed up and… I don’t know, I guess you’re the closest thing I have to Dylan now… And I needed to take this off my chest, to explain myself to you, I… I wish he hadn’t died, I wish that every day, but he did and I have to stay here and live without him and I thought I had to that alone but… Maybe I don’t?”

“Indie, Robert and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. We love you. And so did Dylan, I know he did, but like you said, you have to live, darling.” She smiles. “He’d be happy.”

I can’t hold it in anymore so I hide my face behind my hands and full on cry. She brings a chair next to mine and wraps her arm around my shoulders and just let me cry like she has done so many times before.

“I miss him.” I confess. “There are so many things I want to tell him every day, you know. I want him to see that Coco’s in love, that I got an A in Paediatrics, that Rio is working at the bank.”

“He is seeing that.” Her arm squeezes me closer to her. “He’s taking care of us. I know you miss him, honey. So do I, but he would want us to go on.”

“Yes, I know.”

“He would be very proud of you. I hope you know that.”

“I just want him to know I love him, I always will, even if I love someone else. It doesn’t change who he is to me.”

“I know.”

She gives me some tissues and I cry over her son’s absence as she rests her cheek on my head and caress my arm. She’s always been a lot stronger than I am and she’s always been a rock to rest upon when I felt I couldn’t go on anymore. When I calm down enough, she sits back in front of me and gives me a small smile.

“Will you tell me about him?”

I can see him in her and somehow by telling her, I feel like I’m confessing it to him too.

“There’s not much to tell now” I raise my eyebrows “it didn’t work out.”

“What? Why?”

I shake my head and shrug as if I didn’t know why when I perfectly know what happened. I tell her a little about him though and she asks mum-like questions and even laughs at some of the stories I tell her.

After about an hour of chatting, we both call it a day and I go home to my dad and siblings. I didn’t tell them the real reason why Harry didn’t come. I told them he eventually got caught up with work and if they didn’t believe it they pretended they did.

The Golden Girls have been checking on me daily but even though I’m heartbroken, I’m somehow calmed. I talked to Amalia and I told Harry what I needed to tell him so I guess I just have this feeling of having been honest with everyone and I don’t feel guilty anymore.

I’m brushing my hair on my pyjamas after the shower when Ollie calls.

“Hi, babe” she chirps. “How is everything at Capitol? How’s your dad?”

“Good.” I tell her. “Yeah, he’s doing great. You wouldn’t tell he had an aortic dissection.”

We both chuckle.

“I knew it. Your dad’s strong like a bull.” She giggles.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I got a call from Paris. Do you remember I did the interview on Skype?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, they just called me.” She sighs. “I got it.”

So she’s officially leaving. Oh, man, I’m going to miss her so much.

“Indie?”

“Yes.” I get my shit together. “Well, that’s great, Ollie! I’m so happy for you! I won’t lie to you, I’m going to miss you like crazy but I’m happy for you.”

“Maybe you don’t have to miss me…” She says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I rejected it.”

“WHAT? Where does this change of heart comes from?”

“I don’t know… I’ve just been thinking… Paris is so far away…”

Oh, no. She’s as head over heels in love as I am… It must be the time for us Golden Girls…

“You did it for Mario, didn’t you?”

There’s a certain silence on her end but I can hear her breathing.

“Maybe.”

I smile.

“So you guys are like together for real?”

“Yes… Aren’t we?”

I chuckle.

“Oh, no, don’t ask me! Did you two talk about this? Does he know you took the internship down for him?”

“Of course not! I didn’t do it for him! Olivia Bassot doesn’t reject internships for anyone! I did it for myself.”

“Because you want to be with him.”

“That’s right but still it was for me, not for him.”

“Okay, yeah, great.” I laugh. “May I know what made you change your mind?”

She sighs.

“Actually, I don’t quite know. It’s just when they told me I got it, I wasn’t happy, you know? So I thought wait, I don’t have to go, I don’t have to prove anything to anybody.”

“That’s right.” I smile. “I won’t lie, Ollie, I’m fucking happy.”

She laughs.

“Me too, babe. Now I gotta go, I’m telling Mario tonight. Wish me luck.”

“What do you mean wish me luck? He’s gonna be thrilled!”

“He better.” She laughs. “Anyway, gotta go. Love you!”

“Love you.”

Well, at least there are some good news. Wrapped up on my thick woollen stay at home cardigan, I make my way downstairs where I guess my family awaits. Rio’s reading a book near the fireplace and Coco’s walking towards the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” She asks me.

I shake my head and stare at the door from the bottom of the stairs. My dad shows up at the kitchen door and tells me he made pumpkin and sweet potato cream and I’m about to thank him when my sister opens the door.

“Blue, look who’s here!”

My mouth and my eyes open wide. My heart beats hard and fast against my ribs and my breathing stops until I feel tingling all over my skin.

It’s Harry.

“Hello, Blue.”

I deflate like a balloon when I hear his voice and my breathing resumes. I almost have to hold on to the railing of the stairs so as not to fall. There he is, calm and unfaced, standing right next to my sister and looking stunning on blue jeans and a dark brown sweater underneath his opened grey coat. His hair is a messy mane of curls on top of his head but his warm signature dimply smile is nowhere to be found. That’s the only reason that I don’t run towards him and kiss him.

Hello, Blue. No hello, baby or hello, love. Hello, Blue. Anyone here in Capitol could have said that… But he’s here. He’s cold, but he’s here. That’s already something and I don’t know why I’m complaining.

“Oh, Harry!” My dad walks towards him and offers him his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Blue said you got caught up with work.”

His green eyes search for mine before he looks back at my dad. I don’t know what he’s thinking.

“I was indeed caught up with work but… I got off the hook last minute.”

“That’s great! Isn’t that great, Blue? But get in here!” My dad urges me. “Greet him, honey.”

I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair as I walk closer to him. Harry doesn’t take his eyes off me but he’s seemingly unaffected by my presence. I’m afraid of his greeting. If he flinches I might cry. I don’t know whether he read my note or not but if he did, I don’t know why he’s acting so cold and if he didn’t, I don’t know why he’s here.

Coco’s closed the door after him and I see a small trolley behind him. My heart warms up at the thought that he came to stay. When I get to him, the habit takes the best of me and my lips search for his but he discreetly pulls his face away and instead gives me a hug. I don’t know if he did it out of respect for my dad or because he didn’t really want to kiss me. Something tells me it’s the second.

His hug is short and superficial and when he pulls away I feel like crying. His green eyes avoid staring into my own and I wonder if he came all the way here just to torture me with his coldness and distance. As I turn around, I see Rio standing a few feet behind me.

“This is my brother, Rio. Rio, this is Harry.”

“Hi, mate.” Rio shakes his hand and Harry gives him a lips closed smile.

When my brother pulls apart, Coco slips her thin, woollen covered body and gives Harry a hug. He gives her a dimply smile and I feel jealousy burning on my belly. What is he doing? That smile was for me!

“I’ll put another plate on the table.” Dad smiles.

My siblings follow him inside the dining room and Harry and I both hear the drawers opening and closing and plates and glasses being placed on the table.

“How did you know where my dad lives?” I whisper to him.

“I asked Olivia.”

With that he walks inside the dining room and I hear him asking Coco how he can help. Wait, so Olivia knew he was coming and she didn’t tell me anything? I literally just talked to her!

At least during dinner I get to sit next to him even though I doubt it was his choosing but rather where he was supposed to sit. I feel clumsy with my cutlery as I try to cut the steak. My Dad’s been asking Harry and me questions all dinner and Harry’s answered those about himself but has let me answer the ones about our relationship so he doesn’t have to tell everyone we’re nothing now, I guess.

My dad brings homemade yoghurt to the table and even after the sweetening effect of my dad’s dessert, Harry’s still distant and cold but he only punishes me. He’s all smiles and cavalry to my family and even Rio seems to like him.

“And Harry” Rio asks “do you know my sister Coco’s boyfriend?”

Coco rolls her eyes and blushes and Harry chuckles.

“Yes, I do.” He nods. “His brother works with me. They’re nice guys, good people.”

“Cool.” Rio nods. “Podrías traerlo tú también a casa, Coco.” (You could bring him home too, Coco.)

“Sí, claro. Harry es mayor que tú. No es lo mismo. El está a salvo porque no podrías con él, pero Guido tiene 21, como Blue. Te lo comerías con papas.” (Yeah, right. Harry is older than you. It’s not the same. He’s safe because you couldn’t take him but Guido is 21, likewise Blue. He’d have nothing to do.)

I don’t think Harry’s understand most of it, but I’m sure he got the part of Harry’s older than you and Guido’s 21 and he’s smart enough to figure out the rest.

Harry’s phone screen illuminates as he gets a text and my heart gets warm when I realize he at least hasn’t change his lock screen photo. I can’t help the grin.

“You didn’t send me that picture of the wedding.” I half whisper to him.

“Did you see them?”

“So there’s more than the one…”

He lets out a little giggle that warms my insides and makes me feel like a teenager.

“You meant my lock screen, right?”

I nod.

“Who took it?”

“The photographer. I think he had a thing for you.” He smirks. “He took lots.”

I look down at my empty yoghurt bowl and smirk. I think that was progress. Baby steps, but it’s better than the cold stare and the minimum hug he gave me when he got here.

After dinner, Dad moves the party to the living room and we all take seats on the couches and the armchairs by the fireplace. Harry doesn’t pay attention to me but my family doesn’t find it weird, mostly because they haven’t really seen us together before, but also because Dad and Rio seem so invested into learning about him. They find him as interesting as I do and I think Harry is at ease too, despite all the questioning. I can tell by his body language that he’s grateful for the way my family welcome him. His eyes avoid mine, but I can tell there’s gratitude on them too and I wonder if he’d ever look at me like he used to.

Dad gets up from his armchair and walks towards the record player and Rio and him start a conversation about which album to play. I take it as my chance to have Harry to myself so I jump from my spot on the coach and sit down next to him. His eyes warn me not to sit too close and most importantly not to touch him, so I keep my hands to myself despite my yearning. 

“Are you okay?” I whisper. 

“Yes, I am. How are you?”

His interest both surprises and softens me and my heart flutters with hope.

“I’m happy you came.” I confess.

“I’m happy you invited me.”

His words are conciliatory but his tone is still dry and I can’t read his expression. His body is tensed though.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

I snort. He’s impossible. We both fall into silence after that and I wait for him to explain himself but he never does so I speak again.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“I am talking to you now.”

“Harry, please.” My bottom lips come out of its own accord. “Can you stop torturing me?”

His jaw clenches and he looks ahead, away from me. I swallow my willing to yell at him and look down at my feet. I feel belittled and abandoned and I hate that he’s so close and so far away.

“I… Did you read my note?”

Only then he tilts his neck so he’s facing me. His green eyes look at me and for the first time since he arrived, I can see the battle inside him. I can see the part of him who wants to forgive me, maybe there’s even a part that already has; but he’s still holding back. I can work with that, I can respect that.

“I am sorry. I already wrote that to you but I can say it out loud in front of my family if you want. I’ll do anything, please. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t want you to do that or to keep apologizing, even.”

“Then what do you want?”

I watch him blink. I can tell he’s flabbergasted. He probably wasn’t expecting this behaviour from me and quite frankly neither was I but after talking to Amalia and after getting the peace I needed, I need him to know I would really do anything to take back all the pain I’ve caused him.

“I want you to be fully honest with me and to be yourself for real.”

“Pardon?”

“No more lies, no more hiding things.” He whispers. “You tell me the truth and you tell me what worries you and you tell me when you’re scared and you tell me why. I’ll do the same. I think it’s a fair deal.”

I swallow. I can do that. I meant it when I said I’d do anything. If that’s what he wants, then that’s what he’ll get. I just hope he won’t run away when he hears it all.

“When are you planning on saying it to my face?”

I almost laugh. Is he serious? He came all the way here just to hear me say that? I didn’t think he would want to hear me say it with such fervour. Isn’t it obvious? Is it not enough to show it? Is it not best to show it? I would rather have someone never telling me they love me but showing me every day that the other way around.

But okay, I can do that too. If he wants me to say it that bad, then I’ll say it… But in my own way. From the corner of my eye, I can see my dad’s still busy with the records and Rio’s back on his book and Coco’s on the phone. No one’s paying attention to us. So I get closer to him and I act brave despite the fear of his rejection. He frowns but he gets visibly nervous and he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t pull away so I keep getting closer, like a kitten, and his eyes drop to my mouth. My lips look for his and Harry relaxes his face and for a moment it seems his guard is down and his lips part. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are set on my lips.

“Blue! I got an A on my essay!” Coco celebrates.

Fuck you, Coco! I mean- good for you but fuck your timing! Harry pulls away from me and I straighten my back despite the way my chest deflates. I give my sister a smile.

“Enhorabuena, hermana.” (Congratulations, sister.)

Dad and Rio congratulate her and ask her on her essay, as if they would understand anything of her engineering, and I try to gain back my reconciliation with Harry but he pulls back this time.

“Wait, Blue.” He whispers. “I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t touch you until you figure your shit out.”

Great. That could take years, genius.

It shouldn’t make me so frustrated. I remind myself of a dog in heat or one of those men that get mad when women reject them at bars. I frown and straighten my back so I sit farther away from him, but after a second I can’t take it anymore.

I stand up and without saying a word I make my way upstairs. Harry’s been all talkative to my family and ignoring me all night, they can show him to his room now or give him conversation. I don’t care anymore.

When I climb the stairs, I open the door to the balcony and make my way outside. It’s freezing out here before the mountains, so I turn on the heater and wrap one of the blankets on the basket between the couches around my body. Looking to the side, I can see my part of the balcony, the one that belongs to my room, and I remember last time I was here, when I sat there with Jason and we talked and talked about Harry and about Dylan and about the same fucking story once and again.

It was all for nothing. After all, it was all for nothing. I tortured myself with the thought that I was leaving Dylan behind, I looked at myself in the mirror and felt guilty and couldn’t recognize myself and all for what? All to be now sitting down all alone because the man who turned everything into a fucking mess doesn’t even want to touch me.

I hear the balcony door opening and my sister’s soft voice almost whispering she’s here and the next thing I hear are footsteps coming my way. The door closes and Harry stands beside me.

“It’s bloody freezing in here.”

I nod but don’t dare to look at him.

“Baby”

His tone sounds tired but the nickname makes my heart flutter. My eyes search his, desperately, and I think he’s done with giving me the hard look and the cold façade. I don’t like that Harry, that’s not him. Harry is kind and understanding and a good listener. He’s not harsh and hard and cold. That’s me.

“I think I’m acting like such a spoiled brat.” I confess. “You’re just giving me a taste of my own medicine and I don’t fucking like it. I didn’t really need you to show me how insufferable I am though. I already knew that.”

He sighs.

“Can we go somewhere alone and not freezing?” He asks. “We need to talk.”

I look into his eyes. He’s standing tall right next to the heater and I’m sitting down with my knees to my chest and the blanket around me. My heart is pounding on the back of my throat and I can feel my pulse on my brain.

“I love you.”

The words come out clean and clear, despite my nervousness, and my eyes don’t leave his until the weight of them fall upon us. That’s the first time I have ever said that to a man different than Dylan, that’s the first time I’ve meant those words in a romantic way after him. I can’t yet read him. He’s just looking at me and I don’t know whether on the inside he’s grinning or whether he’s about to cry.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” I am whispering now and I guess all my strength and my bravery have gone with those three words that got no answer.

“Is that why you said it?” He raises his eyebrows.

“No” I look down at my knees and think I’m about to cry “I said it because it’s true. I already wrote it down for you.”

He offers me his hand. I don’t understand his silence or why he is barely moving but I take his hand and he gives me a timid smile.

“Will you show us to your room?”

I leave the blanket a mess on the basket and walk with him towards my room. My dad played Miles Davis downstairs but I can still hear the fire and the keyboard of somebody’s laptop.

Once in my room, I take a deep breath and try not to think of what happened here before I met Harry. I try not to see Dylan on my bed, I try not to listen to his voice making fun of me for my decorations. Harry has a look around but he stands right there and he doesn’t move until I tell him he can.

“After your boyfriend passed away” he starts.

I feel my shoulders tensing and my breathing catching on my throat. No, no, no, no. I can feel his green eyes on me, studying me carefully, but I can’t look back at him.

“Did you go to therapy?”

I swallow. I don’t know why it is so hard to talk about this yet I manage to nod.

“How long for?”

“Two years.”

I see him nodding his head before he sighs. I guess he’s figuring out I’m actually really broken. I suppose if I hadn’t been to therapy, then he could hold onto that and he could say well she’s crazy now but she’ll get better but I bet after knowing I am actually the product of two years of therapy, he might give up.

“You said I wasn’t your second boyfriend. How long did you stay with him for?” I don’t answer. “How long ago was this?” He gives me some time to answer but I am still silent. “Why did you two break up?”

I am embarrassed to tell him and I don’t know why that’s even important. Javier is not something that bothers me. He’s in the past and I don’t think he has left any trauma in me and even if he did, Harry doesn’t have to worry about that. He is nothing like him and not even for a second have I doubted that.

“You’re not gonna speak?”

I want to fix things with him and I want to give him what he wants from me but I am embarrassed.

“Say something.”

“I don’t want to sleep here.”

The second I step out of the room, everything seems easier. I hear him taking a deep breath and sighing deeply before he follows me and when we enter the guest room in a second he’s behind me. His proximity covers my skin with goosebumps because I can feel his breathing against my ear shell and I can smell his scent and I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my mouth.

“When you found out about my shit you shut me out and I chased you day and night so you would let me explain. You were mad and, despite the way you treated me, I didn’t stop until I got you to listen to me because you’re important to me and I care. Now, you’re the one who’s hid something from me and instead of getting mad, I’m here, trying to get you to talk to me and you can’t even look me in the eyes.”

His proximity disappears as fast as it arrived and all he lets me se is his back as he sits down on the edge of the bed. I swallow and don’t know what to do. I look at him before my eyes set on our reflection on the glass of the window. He is looking down so he can’t see it but I can see us two and all of a sudden it’s like I know what to do.

Harry doesn’t deserve my silence. I owe him. I owe him a lot, even if he doesn’t know that, because in the last five months, I have laughed a lot more often and a lot harder and I have respected myself and I have actually wanted things. He gave that back to me and he deserves to see me, he deserves to know me and if after that he wants to leave, then I will take that but he will know who I really am.

I take a sit on the bed and cross my legs so my ankles hid underneath my thighs. I have never done this before outside of therapy and I don’t even know where to start. I take a deep breath.

“I met Dylan in this house when I was fifteen years old. Until then I had just been a posh spoiled girl like you thought I was when we met and, to be fair, I think if it hadn’t been for him, you would have been right on every stupid assumption you made about me that day in your kitchen.” I swallow.

“We started dating a year later but really I think I fell for him the very same night we met. I’ve had a… happy life. I mean before the accident. My childhood was good, my family never struggled and I was loved and wanted. I think I’ve always had everything I’ve wanted and still before I met Dylan I always felt like I was never in the right place. It was an uneasy feeling but I just never felt like I belonged anywhere. And then… He gave me that.

He didn’t think of me as a spoiled rich girl, he saw me and to him I was just… Indie. And he made me feel like the most interesting person in the world. I told him once when I was little my friends’ mothers wouldn’t let me play with Rio and the rest of the boys so I never learnt to climb a tree and he took me to his grandparents’ house and had me climbing to this huge tree on their backyard before he got the ladder down from his tree house.” I giggle nervously and hear Harry snorting a chuckle too.

He has turned around and is now staring at me and he’s silent but his body language has completely changed. I have his undivided attention.

“He was my first everything. My first love, my first boyfriend, my first best friend, my first time… And also my first fight, my first heartbreak and my first reconciliation and I guess… There was a part of me who wanted him to be the last too.”

I bit my bottom lip so it stops trembling and Harry patiently waits in silence until I get my voice back.

“When I left for Uni, he stayed in Capitol. His dad had cancer and his mum had to work so he decided to postpone Uni for a year or two until things got better. I admired him for that but then…” My eyes look away but now that I’ve started it’s like I can’t stop. “He changed. He became short-tempered and harsh and we started fighting a lot. I think he felt as if his life was stuck among cancer and poorly paid jobs while mine was moving forward and getting better and I was having fun when he was… I think he felt as if I have abandoned him and in a way, I…”

My face contorts and my throat closes on me to the point where my voice and my breath get stuck inside. I feel pain and guilt and embarrassment choking me and my eyes shut as hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks.

“I did.” I confess. “I was tired of being sad. Whenever I saw him, we ended up fighting and I saw my friends and everyone around me living their best lives and going to parties and I was just the girl with the sad boyfriend and I…” I shake my head. “I wasn’t there for him when he needed me.”

I take a deep breath.

“One day he came to see me and we had a fight and he left for hours. When he came back…” I lick my lips dry after all the talking. “He was high. That was the first time I saw him like that but then it all started to make sense: his mood-swings, his depression, his irritability… I tried helping him.” I wipe my tears and sob before I clear my throat. “I talked to his mum, to my parents, to his friends, to him… I asked for all the help I could get but… He wanted me to go with him to one of his new friends’ party. I didn’t like those people and I was trying to get him away from them because they all smoked and he wasn’t acting himself when he was around them…”

I swallow again but the lump in my throat is getting bigger and bigger and harder to swallow.

“So he went alone. I was in Grad. It was me who called him. I felt bad that I hadn’t gone with him to the party, even if they were the wrong crowd, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to be there for him… And… He was driving.”

I dare to look at Harry then. His green eyes meet mine but I can’t take it. It’s hard enough to tell the story, doing it under such intense stare would be impossible.

“I lost it.” Even if I had wanted to look into his eyes, everything gets blurry before me now as a new army of tears rolls down my cheeks again. “I begged him to stop the car, I yelled at him, I… I even said if he didn’t then I’d break up with him.” I sob. “And he was mad and he yelled back and then… I heard the crash.”

I stop and my eyes set on the wall. Harry’s hand gently rests on my knee and it surprises me that my body doesn’t react to it. My mind wasn’t expecting that and yet my body seems to be so used to his touch, it didn’t flinch or even jump.

“The doctors said he died on the spot so the last thing he heard before dying was a threat.”

I look at him expecting to find the judgement on his eyes. Maybe he’s disgusted by me. Maybe he thinks I’m a terrible person and he doesn’t want to see me again. But all I find is pain and sorrow and love. I frown.

“I was depressed for six full months after that and when I started talking again, I started going to therapy. I wish I were dead too.” I admit.

I can see the pain flashing through his green eyes but he lets me talk. He doesn’t shush me or tells me don’t say that and I love him for that. He lets me say and he lets me feel and I know he didn’t want me dead but he gives me this moment, he gives me this silence, these words. He lets me owe them.

“And somehow I was; some part of me was. I thought I was never going to feel even remotely close to how I felt when he was with me. For years I felt like I didn’t want anything. I just did things, but I had no desires. I wasn’t hoping for anything or even trying anything… I was just waiting… And it might sound ungrateful or selfish but I honestly was just waiting for the day I die. I felt like some part of me was already dead. 

When I met Javier I wasn’t much better than that. It had been almost two years since Dylan’s accident and I guess I just wanted to feel something. We met at a club and fucked the same night and after that he was sweet at the beginning, I thought he was protective but really he was just jealous, possessive and controlling. He was… Bad. He was an abuser and he came across someone dead inside so he could do anything because I didn’t care and he did. He made me feel disgusting and fat and lazy and powerless but I guess in a way it was what I wanted. I have tortured myself for what happened to Dylan for years now. I feel guilty for not having been there for him enough… I guess part of me thought I deserved Javier to some extend… Until one day he tied me up to the headboard of the bed and left me there for three hours.”

Harry’s eyes horrified at that. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches but he still doesn’t say anything. I swallow and go on.

“I was done with men when I met you but you…” My voice croaks but I want to tell him. I think this is the most important part. “You said I could have blue cheese” I chuckle nervously and so does he “and I… I wanted to see you.” I don’t know why I’m crying now but I feel salty tears on my mouth and my voice croaks all the time. “I hoped you would be in your coffee break when I went to the cafeteria. I mean at the beginning it was just… Orgasms.” He laughs. “But even then, I felt… Alive. I felt my heart beating and the air on my lungs and I felt my blood rushing through my veins and then it was all the time. You look at me and my pulse accelerates and when you’re close my breath gets stuck on my throat and I don’t know what to say and my skin gets covered in goosebumps and my stomach does somersaults…”

I have barely taken a breath while telling him all that but now he’s blushing and his lips can’t help the small smile and his dimple is out and for a moment I thought I would never make him smile like this ever again.

“So… I got scared.” I shrug. “I got scared that I was forgetting about Dylan. I didn’t want to leave him behind. You know, I’ve… I’ve never been able to go to his grave. I don’t think I can see his gravestone.” My voice breaks and Harry’s hand moves from my knee to my shoulder. “I don’t… I can’t remember his voice.” I sob. “I could hear him on tape but I think it would make me depressed again.” I let the lump in my throat win for a second before I fight it again. “I just want to be able to remember him without feeling my heart break into a million pieces. I mean how long does grieving take? It’s been three years and I can’t talk about him.”

“Come here.”

I let Harry pull me to him and in crying to him about Dylan I find a comfort I never thought possible. His hand carefully and lovingly rub my back and his lips press soft kisses against my hairline. I don’t know how long for he lets me cry but he only pulls away when I’m sniffing and my breathing has gone back to normal.

His green eyes investigate mine for long seconds before he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“I don’t know how to say what I want to tell you without sounding harsh.”

I purse my lips. I don’t know either but I get ready to hear it. I know this is too much. He already said I had to figure my shit out before I was in a relationship and he didn’t even know all this shit so now he’s gonna leave for good. I understand. I wouldn’t wanna be with me either.  

“When you were depressed, I suppose Coco was there for you, right?”

I nod but frown. I do not know where he’s going with this.

“Did that make you feel better?”

“Of course.”

“Did that heal you?”

I frown. I guess… Not. My doctor healed me, I healed me. Coco just loved me.

“You can’t love someone out of depression, Blue.” He states. “What happened to Dylan was a terrible accident and it’s normal that with accidents we always feel as if they could have been somehow prevented but that doesn’t help anyone.” He sighs. “Death is terrible but it’s also a part of life. We all have to die. Dylan was taken too soon and I can’t imagine what that felt like, baby… Really, I am amazed that you went through that and that you… survived that and came out this… Incredible.” His eyebrows raise on his forehead as his head shakes, as if he really was amazed. “And I am sorry for what I said to you. I wish I had known this sooner but I also wish I could take back the moment where I blamed you for your… Things. This is fucking hard and I wish I could tell you how long grieving takes but I don’t know, love. Yet you don’t have to do this alone.”

My heart restarts and my eyes search for the trap.

“You’re not going to leave?”

“Where?”

“I…” I shrug. “I thought this was going to scare you away.” I frown. “That you’d realize I have deep severe issues and you would just walk away.”

Harry frowns and it’s the first time a gesture of contradiction wakes butterflies up in my belly.

“Sometimes I don’t know who you take me for--.” He shakes his head. “I love you, Blue. And I want to see you happy. I love seeing you smile and laugh and I feel… Important when I make you laugh. You’re intelligent and kind and funny and mesmerising and beyond gorgeous and… So young, love. Why would I ever want to walk away from that?”

My eyes move frantically between his and I choose not to ask him whether he really thinks that. I decide I’ll try to believe him. He shakes his head. I think he can read my mind.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He smirks. “Could you please tell me what would be of your friends without you? Do you think Mario and Olivia would be together if it wasn’t because of you? Do you think Marie would have dared to go out with Adam? And what would be of Jason? You helped him get out of an abusive relationship. Do you know how hard that is?”

I guess he’s right. I do contribute on The Golden Girls.

“And what about me?” He chuckles. “You make me not hate myself.”

His green eyes bore into mine after he said that and I know the nodding of his head is just a way to try and swallow the lump on his throat. I can see the tears he’s holding back now.

“Before I met you, I was just waiting too and now I want to live and I want to love you and you’re gonna let me.” He persuades me so I giggle.

“Promise me you’re gonna let me.” He whispers.

“I promise.” I smile.

He nods, satisfied with my answer, and we both stare at each other smiling despite all the emotions we just shared.

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for you to be able to remember Dylan without feeling your heart breaking... But what I do want you to know is that I don’t think you need to stop loving him to love me or anyone else.” He shrugs. “I mean... When I think about widows remarrying, I never think of it as a bad thing, I don’t think it means forgetting... It just means... Your heart is big enough to love twice.” He smirks. 

I let the tears roll down my cheeks and meet my lips. 

“I don’t know why I thought you’d... Like... Not understand.” I shake my head. “I thought you might even get jealous.” 

He frowns, like I was speaking some foreign language and it’s his little understanding that makes me smirk despite my tears. 

“Getting jealous of that is like... I’m afraid it’s literally sick.”

I even chuckle. 

“You’re strong and wonderful” he says “and I have no doubt you’ll get there. I hope it’s me the one you tell about Dylan without having your heart breaking too.” He smiles. 

My lips are curled into a timid smile but my head is shaking because there’s a part of me that’s beyond happy, there’s another part of me that’s heartbroken, there’s another part that can’t believe someone this kind can exist; and in the midst of all these feelings, my mind doesn’t have control over my body anymore. 

“I love you.” 

I let my lips hug every syllable and my heart own every word. Harry’s lips curl until he’s grinning and I think I’ll tell him I love him every morning if he’s going to look at me like that. 

I am not scared anymore. 

I feel liberated and I love this man in a way that makes my heart skip every second beat. For the first time in three years, I feel like there’s not a single part of me that’s not full of life and love and plans and hope and calm.

“I love you too. And now get ready because I’m going to kiss you.”

The air leaves my lungs through a desperate smile as his hands rest on the mattress next to my thighs and he gets closer to me.

“I’m ready.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles and reader #harry styles love #harry styles #harry styles new

[volahre]

babe for the weekend - chapter 4

read on ao3 | 1805 words | rated Teen and up audiences for later chapters | Fox Mulder/Dana Scully | Weddings | set in late season 6 | UST | eventual resolved romantic tension

When an old friend from high school invites her to her wedding and she brings Mulder along as her plus one, Scully reflects on her life, her place in the world, how much she has changed and what she really wants.

I originally started this to explore the topic of growing up, aging and feeling like you are missing out within the character of Dana Scully, but it has become so much more than that - but read for yourself!

chapter four

Between the vineyards lay a small cottage with a large meadow which Dorothy and Robert had chosen to be the location for their celebration. The ceremony had gone smoothly, a teenage girl who turned out to be not only Robert’s niece but also a piano virtuoso contributed to the celebratory atmosphere with pieces by Handel and Bach.

“Champagne, juice, or mixed?”, one of the waitresses asked Scully once she had gotten up from her chair and straightened her dress. Smiling, she thanked the waitress and took one of the champagne glasses while waiting for Mulder to follow her. “To the newlyweds?” she asked once they stood facing each other. “And to love”, Mulder answered, looking straight into her eyes with an expression she could not quite read. It was new, something she had only seen appearing on his face recently.

“And how do you know Dorothy and Robert?”, an old familiar voice appeared behind Scully as she was waiting for the buffet. She turned around and saw Marcus speaking to Mulder. Great. She took a deep breath. “He’s with me”, she said and put on a smile, looking at the face of the man she once, though much younger, more inexperienced, and certainly more naïve had called the love of her life.

“Oh, Dana!” Marcus laughed. “It’s good to see you”.

She kept on the smile. “It’s good to see you too.” This really was strange, to say the least. What was she even supposed to say? Gesturing behind Marcus, she cleared her throat. “Have you…come here with anybody?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied, a particular glow appeared on his face. “Wife and two kids, they’re waiting at our table. I can introduce you later if you want”.

She nodded. “I’m sure we’ll find each other again.”

“But tell me about your company, Dana”, Marcus said before looking at Mulder. “Marcus Watson”

Mulder took Marcus’ extended hand. “Fox Mulder. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Fox”, Marcus said. “I see you guys are not married yet?”

“No!”, Scully said, way too abruptly. Trying to conceal it with a laugh, she continued, ignoring the look Mulder gave her. “No, we’re not married.”

“I see”, Marcus smiled. “Where did you guys meet, if I may ask?”

“Oh, we met- “, Mulder started, but Scully interrupted him. “We work together at the FBI”.

“The FBI?”, Marcus appeared a little startled. “Last time I checked, I heard you went off to med school.”

Scully let out a small sigh. “I did, but I ended up in forensic science. But he,” she gestured at Mulder, “has a degree in psychology. Didn’t you do that too, Marcus? How’s it going with that?”

“Well, it’s going amazing, if you ask me! Got myself a practice set up and together with a few colleagues we’re focusing on dysfunctional families. But you, FBI, huh?”, Marcus looked at Mulder, who shrugged with one hand in his pocket.

“Well, I just hope I can help people find closure. And some minds are hard to get into, frankly. And sometimes it’s not even the minds as much as something greater than what could be limited to just one person.”

Scully looked at Mulder, surprised he had not brought up the specifics of what they did. “Mulder and I, we work together on a division called the X-Files.”, she said. “Cases that have been deemed unsolvable.”

“And you solve them?”, Marcus asked.

“Well, I’d like to think so”, Scully said, looking at the floor.

“Often times it’s about perspective,” Mulder said. “Some might appear unsolvable if you look at them from a traditional standpoint, but I like to think that if you go a little outside the box and look at them with an open mind you might actually find out the truth.”

“Ah, I get you, buddy”, Marcus said. “I have to deal with some real monsters as well, if you know what I mean!”, he laughed.

Scully frowned as Mulder laughed, though appearing highly uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose that’s different…”

“Come on, Mulder.”, she said, pulling him by his arm. “Buffet’s ready.”

They were seated across from each other at the end of a table full of people she didn’t know, which didn’t bother her much as she hoped it would spare her of more awkward conversations.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would be like this”, Scully said later as they were eating their dessert.

“Hey it’s fine, Scully”, he said, grinning. “Sometimes your adolescent crushes grow up to become real monsters”.

She chuckled at his attempt to imitate Marcus. “Shut up, Mulder.”

“No”, he said, causing her to throw a confusing grin at him.

“You’ve got pudding on your face, wait”, he grabbed his napkin, and before she could say anything, he leaned over the table and carefully cleaned up the edge of her mouth. Remembering that she had to breathe, she took in a sharp inhale and felt a blush appearing on her face again. In the spot where his fingers had almost touched her, so close to her mouth, she felt a slight tingle.

“Thank you”, she said, hoping he would not question her blushing after him touching her. He had been invading her personal space for years and she had gotten away with barely blushing at most. So why was this happening now?

“I need to get some air”, she said quietly after finishing her dessert and got up, grabbing her purse.

“You okay?”, Mulder had gotten up almost as fast, his eyes filled with concern as they found hers.

“Yeah, I just need to get away from all the people for a bit”, she said, quickly looking away.

Her heels clicked on the asphalt as she walked down the little street that had led them to the location. After about two minutes, she found a bench with a view overlooking the hills. If she stayed for a few hours, she might be able to watch the sun go down from here, judging by the way it stood now.

Taking a deep breath, she took off her shoes and relaxed her back against the wood. The whole idea seemed like a mistake. Coming here after years of barely keeping in contact and therefore not knowing how to talk to anybody, bringing Mulder and putting him in an even more awkward situation than hers, it was like she had wanted to please people but had ended up just being selfish. Selfish, Dana. Her entire life, her entire career she had tried not to be selfish, always acted in the favour of others. But now her feelings, her fear had gotten in the way. Selfish.

She worried about Mulder. What was she even going to tell him? Sorry I’m behaving so weirdly; I just saw a guy I had a crush on almost 20 years ago and it made me realize that – but what had it made her realize? She had not come to any conclusion as to why the situation had felt so incredibly awkward, not just because of Marcus, but because of the combination of Marcus and Mulder. Apart from….no, definitely not. And this was certainly the worst place to consider the matters of her own heart. This was a celebration of love, but not hers.

Love. She recalled that moment in the hospital a few months earlier, when they were working in interior terrorism and Mulder had gone on a reckless spree diving right into the Atlantic Ocean, ending up drugged and exhausted. He had told her he loved her then, and she had brushed it off as a side effect of the drugs. But later, on her way home, she had recalled the moment with a particular sting in her stomach.

“Here you are”.

She looked up and saw the man in question standing there, his eyes – what colour were they now? – glistening in the light of the warm Californian sun.

“Oh hey”, she said quietly.

“The seat next to you taken?”, he said in his usual sarcastic tone but she couldn’t help noticing that there was also an obvious softness to his voice.

She chuckled. “Sit down if you want to,” she said, taking her purse so he had the space to sit.

“You wanna talk?”, he asked once he had sat down, putting his arm across the backrest behind her.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “It’s just all so much…so much more than I expected. All the old feelings that never really went anywhere, so much left unresolved, washed out by years of growing apart.”

He nodded, that unreadable expression on his face again. “I’m sorry if this is too personal, but do you still like him?”

“No!”, she said just as quickly as she had earlier, almost as if she was speaking out of reflex. She despised herself. “No”, she said again, with a slight smile. “I think we really have grown into two completely different people with completely different lives. Plus, he seems happily married and has kids”, she sighed, realizing that this was another aspect in which she could never be quite like those people.

“Hey, shhh, it’s alright,” Mulder said, his hand gently rubbing her shoulder in small motions. As if her brain didn’t already feel like it had melted all sense of rational thought away, the electric signals he was sending through her body with his touch was doing the rest. Slowly, she leaned into his embrace and looked up at him. “I’m so sorry, Mulder.”

“For what?”, he said quietly. His arm had followed her and was now gently stroking her upper arm.

“For making you go through this crap”, she laughed. “You don’t know anybody, which arguably puts you in an even more awkward situation than me, and now I’m running away, and it just feels like I am making this whole thing about myself.”

“Now I’m gonna have to stop you right there, Scully,” he said, “you are not making this about yourself. In fact, I don’t think that many people even noticed you leaving. And even if they did, they probably think you just got a phone call or something. And hey,” he continued after a little pause, “I really don’t mind being here with you. Trust me. I’d rather do this with you than have you go through this on your own.”

“Mulder” she said and shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I hope I can take this as a compliment?”, he said, and she could feel him smile against her hair.

“Anyways, what I wanted to say…” he continued, “Weddings don’t have to be perfect, Scully, and it’s okay if you need some air sometimes. But as I was leaving, they were setting up the dancefloor, so I thought I’d let you know.”

She sat up and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

#babe for the weekend #my fics #my prose #my writing #mulder and scully #msr #msr fanfic #the x files #the x files fanfic #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillian anderson #david duchovny

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve

•part one•

An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.

It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.

Or,

Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.

Contains: natasha x reader moment (but platonic!)

A/N: thank you guys for the great reviews on the prologue! I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! Tags are still open! x

Ps. I’m sorry it took so long for me to update, I’ve been really busy for finals and now that everything’s been put on hold, I can finally focus on this story!

Stay safe you guys! ❤️

•••

“Thanks again for the help, Nat. I’d probably be in the streets by now if you weren’t around.” You thanked before bringing your mug of hot tea to your salty lips. Why, it was because of your crying.

“No need to thank me, (Y/N). You know I’m always one call away.” Natasha replied with a wink, her fit physique sprawled out on her queen-sized bed. You both spent the previous hour gathering your things and bringing it over to your best friend’s house with a little help from her parents. You were like family to them, so when Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff found out that you’ve been kicked out of your apartment they were rushing to your aid in a heartbeat.

“You know, I could work a few extra hours and do some chores around here and help your mom.” You announced and shrugged. “Just a little way of saying thank you to them.”

Nat scoffed. “(Y/N), you could barely even last a week in a job because of your busy schedule in school. Plus, mom wouldn’t let you do that. She’d probably kill me if I let you do house chores.”

“But Nat, this is too much!” You sighed, putting down your mug on the bedside table and joining your best friend on the bed with a little flop, your body bouncing a little as you did so.

Nat sat up and looked you dead in the eyes, her hand hovering above yours. “You’re never too much for mom and dad. They know how hard med school is and they’ve known you since seventh grade! You’re like a second daughter to them!”

You could feel tears prick the corners of your eyes but refused to let them fall. You were tired of crying and you wanted to show your best friend that you’re strong.

“Thank you, Nat. For the millionth time. I could never say it enough because you’ve done so much for me these past few years.” Your voice broke. “You’ve been saving my life ever since.”

As much as you refused, the tears fell. But you weren’t the only one this time. As Natasha pulled you in for a hug, tears welled up in her eyes as well. It hurt her seeing you struggle and try to hide it from her. She knew that you’re strong; you have been ever since. But to see you break down in front of her didn’t fail to ache her own heart, too.

And you both stayed like that for several minutes. You both enjoyed the comforting silence, your best friend’s arms wrapped around you while you calmed yourself as your eyelids began to feel heavy. Just as you were about to doze off Nat jolted upwards and you flinched.

“Holy shit, I have the stupidest but brilliant idea.” She gasped out, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. The emotional, melodramatic feel in the air was gone and was soon replaced by Nat’s excitement.

“Stupid and brilliant? Nat what—“

“You should sign up for an online dating site.” She grinned as she pointed at you, your brows drawn together in confusion as you processed the words that left her mouth.

“Natasha, no. Dating is already heavy work. I don’t need to worry for another human being when I’m struggling to take care of myself and my studies. So no, thank you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to worry too much in this kind of relationship, (Y/N).”

Your confusion grew.

“Because he’s gonna take care of you.”

You watched as she took out her laptop and opened it enthusiastically, her fingers running smoothly across the keyboard with each letter she typed until she turned it around so the screen was facing you.

“Sweet as Sugar Online Dating Site.” You read. “Where you’ll find just the right amount of sweetness you look for in a sugar baby/sugar daddy/sugar mommy. Over 1,000,000+ users. Sign up now!”

“Sign up now!” Natasha repeated, an overanimated grin across her lips as she watched your shocked face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Oh, come on! I know what you’re thinking,” she giggled as she turned the laptop to her again and began typing. “Whenever you think of a sugar daddy, what comes to mind is an old, fat man with a boatload of cash. But! With this site, you can fill up a form asking what you want in a sugar daddy.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now.

“Come, I’ll show you!” She exclaimed as she patted the space next to her. You shook your head in disbelief as you made your way next to your best friend, watching her fill up your biodata in the pink and purple themed website.

“Nat you can’t be serious.” You tried to laugh, but it came out more of a whine. Natasha ignored you and continued to fill out the form, confident that she knew just what to fill in about yourself.

“Okay, display photo. I think I have a couple of good ones of you saved on my laptop.”

She then proceeded to scroll through her library, pictures of the both of you coming to view from past moments—birthdays, Christmas, school events, and just about everything you’ve shared with your best friend.

She finally decided on a portrait of you, a picture she took just last year when you both went on a vacation in Malibu. You were wearing a white off-shoulder dress, looking away from the camera as you laughed shyly, one hand holding on to your beach hat and the other holding down the hem of your dress to keep the wind from lifting the skirt up.

“Oooh, I like this one! It’s a subtle look, yet it shows your side-profile. Daddies would love to see more of you just from this picture!” She exclaimed, pressing on the photo and it only took several seconds before your portrait was uploaded on the site.

“Nat, this is ridiculous.” You groaned out, leaning back against the headboard as you imagined yourself dating someone ten years older than you, or someone twice your age. It’s not that you were against people in relationships that have big age gaps; you just couldn’t imagine yourself being in one, considering the fact that you were awkward and shy and downright busy.

“Not until you fill up this form.” She returned, putting the laptop on your lap and in front of you was a form asking you what you liked in a person, your preferred age, what type of relationship, the like.

“Dude, you could literally just put 5-years older as your preferred age and it would give you a shitload of results!” Natasha added. “Come on, please? If you can’t find someone you think is suitable for you, then it’s fine. We could delete your account and just drop it off. I just thought we’d give it a go, because you kinda need someone to fill your empty heart as well.”

The teasing grin on her lips made you roll your eyes. “One, my heart isn’t empty. I have you and your family in here. Two, your idea is weird and crazy. And three,”

You looked down on the screen and bit your lip, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m gonna sign up. For you.”

What do you look for in a sugar mommy/daddy?

Someone who can provide for me financially while I study in medical school.

How old is your preferred age?

5 years older than me. No more than that.

What are your hobbies?

Eating, cooking, reading books, watching movies, sleeping

What are your likes and dislikes?

I really love pizza. I like staying up at night, and I really really love stargazing. I also love books and coffee shops. They’re my favorite.

I don’t have many dislikes though, I just hate surprise tests and cramming for exams. I also don’t like being bothered with when I’m studying.

Please choose below what you would likely prefer in a relationship. You can tick off as many as you like.

⚪️ BDSM

🔘 Balanced relationship

🔘 Cohabitation/Domestic Partnership (living in the same household as your partner; no marriage required)

⚪️ Friends with Benefits

🔘 Long Distance Relationship

⚪️ Marriage

🔘 Monogamous (exclusive relationship; only dedicated to one partner)

⚪️ Nonmonogamous (open to more than one partner)

🔘 Platonic

⚪️ Polyamory

⚪️ Sexual Partner

🔘 Temporary Partnership/Relationship

Thank you! Your account will be set up in a few minutes. Please wait.

“Holy shit I’m really doing this Nat.” You gasped as you watched a buffering circle indicating that your account was currently being created.

Natasha cackled next to you. “So you’d like a live-in partner, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “It could be helpful considering my situation right now.”

A ‘ping!’ sounded from the laptop and it notified that your account has been officially made. You were then directed to a new page. It was your very own profile page, showing your display photo and name at the top, and everything that you answered a while ago followed just below your name. Next to your display photo showed the number of followers and people you’re following, and the topmost right of the page was a white envelope, serving as your inbox.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “That was fast.”

“Okay!” Nat exclaimed enthusiastically. “Now all we have to do is wait!”

You groaned out as Nat took the laptop from your lap and you stretched your legs out, slightly tense from being curled in your recent position. You were starting to feel sleepy, so you decided to push yourself even lower on the bed until your head hit the soft pillow perfectly.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll check on that tomorrow. I’m getting tired.” You announced as you yawned and stretched your arms out, one hand hitting your best friend on the cheek.

“Yeah, okay. We can check this out tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway.” Natasha agreed as she closed her laptop and put it on her bedside table, turning the lamp off in the process.

“Good night, Nat.”

“Good night sugar baby.”

...

Bucky arrived at his condominium, ignoring calls from his best friend. After he suddenly left lunch leaving Steve confused, the man wouldn’t stop calling him and sending him messages. He plopped down his velvet couch, grabbing his laptop that lay untouched on the coffee table, turning it on and became eager to open a website. He learned about this new website when he overheard a co-worker of his talking to another co-worker about some site for sugar babies. He instantly became curious, wanting to see how legit it was and before he knew it he found himself creating an account for his own.

He wants to help his best friend so bad. Steve has been too unyielding and bloody-minded. He doesn’t even try to put an effort when he’s been set up with dates, leaving women sad and disappointed. All Steve needed was the right woman to get him back in the game.

And this website just might help.

He began creating another account, filling in Steve’s biodata without hesitation. He chose a display picture that would surely catch girls’ attention. It was the one where he was invited to a grand opening of a new company owned by a few famous people and paparazzi were there, taking all Steve’s good angles and Bucky had saved one where he loved the most. He wore a suit and his hair was slicked back, his striking blue eyes gleaming in the light and a hint of pink lips protruding from his thick beard.

Once the account has been finally created and ready for matchmaking, Bucky began his search for eligible women that would be just right for his best friend.

...two hours later...

Hopeless. Bucky was beginning to feel so hopeless. Sure, he’s already come across countless of beautiful women but when he read their whole profile he began to hesitate. He wanted a girl that even he would certainly say yes to for his best friend, knowing that Steve Rogers was one picky man.

Just when he was in the verge of tears and about to give up, one girl caught his eye.

She was in the beach, laughing shyly and looking away from the camera, a hand holding on to her off-shoulder dress and the other keeping her beach hat from flying away.

She’s perfect.

She seemed shy and innocent and downright adorable; she’d be perfect for Steve’s dominant and stern facade.

Bucky was quick to send her a message.

Hi :) would you like to meet up sometime? I’m not much of a chatting-type of guy and I’d rather get to know you better in person. How about over a cup of coffee? x

That sounded a bit rushed. But Bucky just cannot wait any longer. He’s just going to hope that this girl knows the ever famous Steve Rogers and would instantly say yes.

............... ............... ............... ............... ............... ...............

Tags: @heyiamthatbitch @little-dark-empress @verdonafrost @fallenoutofrose @janell-r @ctrl-alt-jeon @radi0active-thoughts @veronawrites @art-estrange @polarcrystall @emilypkuzu @arizonalovesher @connerkentx @kovuthebean @sweetlittlegingy @daahlias @astridsagevans @tazzi-baby @laneygthememequeen @spideys-wife @the-thighs-of-betrayal @wxstedhexrt @domolovee @selluequestrian @rootcrop @rororo06 @ashleybang @evansmess @clueless-333 @sp2900 @x-black-haired-emo-x @ashxmarvel @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @songbirdmia @pepitasab @brokenrogerz @holographic84 @imahoeforbucky @starstruckpersonearthquake @illbethethundertoyourlightning

I’m sorry for those who can’t be tagged, I couldn’t find your account :( hmu if there’s been a mistake! x

#captain america #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #chris evans imagine #Care For Me by hiddlestonsbabygirl #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #scarlet johansson #steve x reader

[kamandzak]

Into the Great Night

Context: Andrew is coming to terms with his current relationship, reflecting on the past, and fearing for the future while in the presence of his mother, a woman he hasn’t seen for nearly a decade.

Mom could tell that something was the matter before I set foot in the house.

    “Talk to me,” she stated, skipping the pleasantries

I didn’t want to. It was the same kind of denial that had consumed me when Jake first tried to pull information out of my unwilling mouth: Maybe if I didn’t acknowledge, it simply wouldn’t exist. If I wasn’t afraid of Jake dying first, perhaps he simply wouldn’t.

    “I’m fine,” I lied and she shook her head.

    “No. You’re absolutely not fine.”

    “I am,” I insisted weakly. “I’m taking my meds, I promise. I’m just tired.”

    “I’m not talking about your health,” she stated. “And I’m not talking about your sisters. I too woke up thinking we’d talk about what happened when you were growing up. I thought we would talk about the full conversations I had via text with the girls last night. It’s clear that those will have to wait. Something is eating you alive, Andrew. What is it?”

    “I’m scared,” I cracked out and Mom’s face seemed to fall.

    “For Jake.”

    “Mom, I can’t lose another person.”

    “Have you talked about it with him?”

    “He doesn’t like to. He goes through, like, phases? Sometimes he gets incredibly low on himself and on his situation but most of the time we don’t talk or think about it. No use in thinking about something when thinking won’t do anything to change the outcome.”

    “You really think he doesn’t worry about the future most of the time? He probably does, but he wants to keep you out of it. You’re like, the one thing he’s got. A distraction”

    “But that isn’t the case anymore,” I protested. “Because-.”

    “Because you care about him more than before. He isn’t just another gamer you can talk to. You have feelings for him.”        

    “Right.”

    “He feels things for you too. I can tell. He watches you in a way that tells me he doesn’t just see a broken boy who needs piecing together. It’s like all the bits of you have been glued back into one unit but he’s the glue, and you’re his.”

    “I don’t think he wants me to be, though. It’s confusing!” I shouted as the cat ran away from her perch. “He kisses me like I’m a drug that he can’t get enough of.” Talking about Jake and our confusing relationship with my mother was the farthest thing from what I ever imaged my reality to be. “But then we talk about minimizing the impact of ourselves so when we die there’s less sadness. How can we have both?”

    “I don’t think you can. You can’t have the death of someone you care for not impact you in a way that drives a stake through your heart, and I think you and Jake are so far in that there’s no going back. Maybe he doesn’t want to accept that, but I think it’s true. Nothing you can do can take away the feeling you get when you watch him or the feeling he gets when you show him what it’s like to be loved.”

    “Do I love him?”

    “You know the answer.”

    “I feel guilty but not all the time. I don’t understand,” I said pathetically. “I don’t get what’s happening. How am I supposed to feel about all of this?”

    “About what, exactly?” Mom asked and I knew she already knew what I was going to say but was making me say it for the sake of myself. “What are you thinking about?”

    “I don’t know where to start,” I said helplessly. “Where do I start?”

    “I know,” she began, “that you spent years in this house wanting to talk about things but feeling like you couldn’t because you would get in trouble. You won’t get in trouble here anymore, Andrew. No one here is going to tell you you’re weak for not holding in your feelings with irrational strength. You can be you here, with your mother.”

    “How can I move on so fast?” I cried out. “I spent so long with Greg and we did so many things. We saw great things and terrible things and I loved him!” I shouted. “So if I loved him why have I found someone else?”

    “Do you feel for Jake the same way you do for Greg?” I didn’t have an answer. “You never will. That’s okay. Do you really think you’re moving on? Or just moving forward?” She was spouting off the same nonsense I read in a self-help book. Don’t move on, move forward. What was the difference?

    “What’s the difference?”

    “Think of your brain as a big filing cabinet,” she began, starting off in left field, far form my question. “Your life is in that cabinet. Your schooling, your gaming, your family, your friends, your secrets, your loves. Greg has a big folder in that cabinet that refers to files in other folders. It’s been what, six months? But finally, his folder isn’t in the forefront of your cabinet. You don’t have to wade through everything he meant to you and the feelings you had for him in order to pull on information from other folders. You can sit and audit through your folder where your dad and I live. You can read through Greg’s folder without letting it consume you. You can…. You can create new folders and gather new experiences. Just because he’s no longer in the front of your cabinet doesn’t mean he isn’t still there. It doesn’t mean you can’t miss him when you do think about him.”

    “Jake asked me if Greg would be mad if he knew that I have… feelings.” It was my first open acknowledgement that what Jake and I were doing wasn’t just me taking him on as a charity case. I wasn’t forcing myself to do something for the sake of good karma. There was something about him of which I could not let go.

    “And?”

    “And my anxieties say yes, of course he would be, because it’s like cheating on someone. But am I cheating? Or am I letting myself live? I would never have done something like this when Greg was alive but-.”

    “But what?”

    “But he’s not,” I sighed. “He’s not alive and I know exactly what he’d tell me if he and I were able to talk right now.”

    “So knowing that, why is this still so hard? Are you afraid that you’ll let yourself relax and then something will happen? That you’ll get sicker and leave Jake to deal with the aftermath?” Jake’s sickly face rippled through my mind. “Or,” Mom continued so softly I could barely hear her, “are you afraid of the other way around?”

    “Mom, six months ago I watched someone die in front of me. I watched death steal someone who had barely begin to understand what life was even about. I stared the scariest thing in the face and I don’t want to do it again. I don’t know what I’ll be like on the other side if I have to watch someone die again.”

    “Why are you so afraid?” she asked and for a moment, hot rage bubbled up inside of me. “I don’t mean that in a tongue-in-cheek way. I’m not accusing you of thinking something is scary when I don’t think you have a reason to be. I just want to know what was so frightening about when Greg died. Maybe if you can narrow it down, we can talk about it.”

    “It wasn’t him dying that scared me. It wasn’t that he would finally be free from all the terrible stuff going on in the real world. In that sense I was excited for his freedom. I wanted him happy and healthy and I knew he couldn’t have that if he stayed with me. But…,” the image of the final exhale burned in my line of sight. “But not getting to grow old with him hurt even though we knew the chance was rare that we would get to do that. Why does that happen? Why do things still hurt even when we know they’re going to happen?”

    “Because we can’t do anything to fix them.” Unlike Dad, I wasn’t sure if Mom had experienced the death of someone she held close. She certainly seemed to speak from experience. “Because we’re sitting back, watching and waiting and unable to figure out and fix the bullshit. It’s unfair that Greg died and it’s unfair that you and Jake are sick and as a mother I can’t believe that I can’t reach in and take your pain away from you. Knowing that I will probably outlive you doesn’t mean that when you die, I’ll be able to continue living my life as if nothing has happened. You’re allowed to love, Andrew,” she said with a hand on my leg, her fingers trembling. “Just because the last person you loved died doesn’t mean you are damning Jake to a fate of early death. Life without love is boring and lovely and if you don’t think Greg would understand why you found comfort in the arms of another person, I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”

Jake was a fifteen-minute drive away, lounging in bed with the television remote and enough pillows to create a fort. I wished he was with me.

#writer #writing #novelist #novel #authors #kamandzak #into the great night #work in progress #fiction #editing

[igirisuhito]

Title: Your love is a fraction, and it’s not adding up Relationship: Kamukura Izuru/Matsuda Yasuke Rating: Mature Summary: Mundane tasks bore Kamukura Izuru. Incompetent children who don't know how to take care of themselves piss Matsuda Yasuke off, apparently.  Trigger Warnings: Eating Disorders

[Ao3 Link]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"How many days has it been this time?!"

The door slammed against the wall with a bang, and there stood a slightly out of breath Matsuda with a deep scowl on his face. His eyebrows were so furrowed that you could barely see that icy blue glare beneath them. If Kamukura's guess was correct (and it always was) he had just come out of his weekly check in with the steering committee.

"Please specify what it is you're asking." Kamukura spoke, his soft tone contrasting heavily against the booming voice that left the other boy.

Removing his hand from the door, Matsuda crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up to the ceiling, flicking his hair back out of his eyes in the process as he looked down at Kamukura. "Don't act stupid, you know exactly what I'm asking about you fucking greasy troglodyte."

"I don't think the person keeping me here has the right to call me a troglodyte." Kamukura's eyes flickered down to the manga in his hands. "However, if you're inquiring how many days it has been since I refreshed myself, the answer is five, rounded down."

"Five days?” Matsuda snorted, “You’re shitting me, no wonder Kobayashi was so bitter. You know it's me who has to touch your disgusting self, right?"

Kamukura brought his hand to his mouth and quickly licked his thumb before turning the page with a loud flick. "I'm aware."

“You dick.” Unfolding his arms, Matsuda took a few long strides that made his sandals snap against the vinyl floor before snatching the manga from Kamukura’s hands. “Stop licking my manga, you’re disgusting. And stop being such a spoiled brat, it’s an unbecoming trait in troglodytes.”

“Again, I believe it’s--”

The manga was slapped hard against the top of Kamukura’s head, how unfortunate that he was reading an extended edition of Ponpon, because that one actually hurt a little. “I don’t give a shit about what you believe . Go wash up before I take away one of your five senses.”

Kamukura sniffed the air, staring at Matsuda’s crumpled Hope’s Peak shirt. There was a toothpaste stain just below his sternum.

A loud scoff left the older boy. “What? Are you pretending to cry? I already know you’re incapable of that you emotion deficient sack of--”

“How long has it been since you bathed?”

Twack. The book hit Kamukura’s cranium once again. “This isn’t about me, Kobayashi was complaining about you.”

Ah, Kamukura had hit his mark, perfect. “Perhaps I should start complaining to the Steering Committee that my doctor is unprofessional and fetid. Surely they would be willing to give me another who has higher standards for personal hygiene and knows how to wash his shirts.”

“I know how to wash my fucking shirts. I’m so sorry that I don’t have a personal maid waiting on hand and foot to do my laundry every single day.” Matsuda hissed, glancing down at himself and tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“You’ve been wearing the same toothpaste-stained shirt for three days now.” A slow blink passed as Kamukura looked up to meet Matsuda’s eyes. “I’m willing to speculate that you haven’t bathed for longer than that.”

“Yeah? And so fucking what, Sherlock?”

“You know I don’t understand your references to Western media…” Kamukura mumbled. “But my point is that your accusations hold no weight, for I will not bathe for a hypocrite who cannot uphold his own standards of cleanliness.”

A hand reached out, securing a fistful of ebony hair and tugging harshly in a way that forced Kamukura's head to jolt forward. “Actually, yes you will, because I am your supervisor and you will listen to what I tell you to do.”

For a second, Kamukura said nothing, turning over the possibilities in his mind. With an impatient sigh, Matsuda allowed him a second to process and gather his thoughts. Matsuda Yasuke may be an asshole, but he was sympathetic to the poor kid who he gave capabilities much too big for his brain to handle.

Only a little, though.

Once finding his words, Kamukura gave Matsuda another slow blink, seemingly unbothered by the hand in his hair. “I do not have to obey your demands, however, I am willing to yield if you admit to the fact you are a hypocrite.”

“That’s not happening. Come on.” With a sharp tug, Kamukura was yanked up to his feet, no pain showing on his face but it definitely hurt more than he would have liked. “The safest place to take you would probably be the communal baths in the old building, because you are not setting foot in my dorm.”

Kamukura followed obediently as Matsuda began to drag him along. “This is likely due to the fact it is as dirty as you are, am I correct?”

"Shut your filthy mouth."

-

At some point during their walk to the old building, Matsuda had politely let go of Kamukura's hair, probably out of laziness and a fear of being questioned by any passer-bys. It was dark outside, judging by the angle of the shadows and the height of the moon, Kamukura was able to determine the sun had only set an hour ago. There were few students wandering the campus, those who did notice Matsuda didn't seem to acknowledge Kamukura. As they shouldn't, after all, he was very good at hiding his presence.

Matsuda's face had an unhealthily pale glow in the moonlight. It reminded Kamukura a little of his own sun-deficient complexion. Those cheeks seemed to have thinned out significantly since they had first met, something that caused an unfamiliar sensation to swirl in Kamukura's chest, a sensation that weighed heavy on his jaw and heart.

"Did you eat dinner? It's not healthy to skip meals."

A soft "Huh?" left Matsuda's lips as he turned to the boy to his left, glancing down at him. "That's a stupid question for a troglodyte to ask. Shouldn’t a troglodyte such as yourself be able to at least ask me something interesting?"

Kamukura pursed his lips together, before separating them with a soft pop. "Being a troglodyte is unrelated to the question."

"So you admit that you're a troglodyte then?"

"I admit that you need a better insult."

Matsuda tipped his head back as a loud snort of laughter escaped him. Kamukura merely clenched his teeth more tightly. "You avoided the question."

Huffing, Matsuda pushed open the door to the old building, stepping inside and propping it open with his foot whilst he waited for Kamukura to follow. “Like I said, it’s a stupid question, why would I bother answering it?”.

“When placed in situations that are stressful, some people resort to binge eating, whilst others tend to eat less frequently.” Stepping into the building, Kamukura glanced around at the familiar sight of the lightly coloured halls. “This is because one who is stressed may desire to distract themselves, or be so troubled by their worries they no longer notice the signals their body is sending to the brain.”

“I went to fucking med school, I know this. Who’s dodging the question now huh?” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Matsuda stepped around the small seating area and turned right down the hall, heading in the direction of the old dorms and cafeteria.

“I’m expressing that you may be one of those people, Matsuda. You have lost a significant amount of weight in the last month.”

Matsuda rounded a corner, his pace quickened slightly. “I’m on a diet. I could afford to lose some weight.”

“But you are within the healthy weight range for your age? Even if you are leaning slightly towards the ‘overweight’ category, there’s no need for dieting.”

“See, you just admitted it, I could stand to lose a few kilograms.”

A soft inhale could be heard from Kamukura. “Is this why you haven’t been eating the snacks I give you?”

Finally, Matsuda stopped and glanced back at the other boy. There still was no emotion painted on Kamukura’s ever stoic face. Beautiful and apathetic, like a porcelain doll to be perched upon one’s collection. The thought made Matsuda’s throat tighten in an unpleasant way he refused to acknowledge.

“Yes. I haven’t been eating your snacks because I’m trying to lose weight.” He thread a hand into his hair with a sigh.

“I see. So why have you still been eating your own?”

Shck! Matsuda could hear the sound of Kamukura’s keen argument cutting through his flesh. Those burning scarlet eyes were digging into his soul, slender fingers reaching towards the truth of his lie. It was a nauseating sensation, one that could have been completely avoided by just telling the truth to begin with.

But Matsuda was in too deep, as was the case with most of the lies and secrets he had picked up since beginning his studies at Hope’s Peak Academy. It was a realisation that shook him to his core.

A slow blink, “Matsuda?”

He snapped back to reality. “Let’s just get you cleaned up you gross weirdo. I don’t think I can stand being in the presence of someone so smelly for much longer.

Kamukura opened his mouth to argue, but his hair suddenly being pulled in the direction of the bathrooms distracted him. He knew better than to question Matsuda’s motives, no amount of interrogation seemed to get anything out of him. Besides, he was sure whatever deep rooted issues Matsuda was hiding would bore him anyway.

With Matsuda’s arm parting the curtain, the two of them stepped into the change rooms. Within moments, Matsuda was already pulling off his tie and tossing it into one of the lockers.

“It seems like a worthless choice to leave this building still functioning.” As he shrugged off his jacket, Kamukura watched the other’s movements closely.

“Not really, I’m pretty sure there’s a few people still staying here and using the facilities for convenience sake." Those precise fingers undid a few buttons on his shirt. "Not students, though, teachers, personnel.”

“I see.” In a swift movement, Kamukura pulled off his tie and placed it into the locker beside Matsua’s along with his blazer. “You do realise we won’t have clean clothes to change into after this?”

“There’s a few spare uniforms in one of the lower lockers. I had someone bring some here after our last incident.” The inflection on the last word would have made most people feel somewhat guilty, but Kamukura didn’t care in the slightest.

Matsuda pulled his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to the open air. Kamukura’s eyes immediately darted to the small pouch of baby fat sitting on his stomach, he wasn’t as chubby as Kamukura recalled.

A flick against his forehead brought him back before he could get too deep in his thoughts. “Stop fucking ogling me and get undressed, creep. Or are you such a useless weirdo that you need me to help?”

Before Kamukura had a chance to answer the question, Matsuda had begun undoing the buttons of his shirt, starting from the collar. He went to reject the help, as he was perfectly capable of doing it himself, but something about the other boy being so close in his vicinity just made him close his mouth again.

Once all the buttons had been undone and Kamukura’s mouth was thoroughly dry for a reason he didn’t understand, he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and placed it with his other clothes. He realised he wasn’t getting any further assistance when Matsuda took a step back and kicked off his sandals, reminding Kamukura to slip off his own socks and shoes as well.

The click of unclasping metal seemed incredibly loud amongst the silence of the room, along with the following shuffle of Matsuda sliding his pants off his legs. As Kamukura began to unbuckle his own belt, he couldn’t help but glance at Matsuda’s underwear. Something deep within him was so curious about what Matsuda’s underwear looked like, and he didn’t quite understand what that was.

The answer was unsurprising. They were rather faded and thin, with an incredibly distracting striped pattern. Kamukura could see the globes of his ass through the fabric, which also meant they were much too thin.

He reverted his attention back to the task at hand, undoing the button and fly of his slacks before pulling them down and stepping out of them. He then hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers before tugging them down at well.

It didn’t feel too strange to be so exposed next to Matsuda, after all, he was frequently stripping down to his underwear for examinations. He would go naked had Matsuda not insisted on him not doing that. Kamukura could recall how he very clearly stated that he does not want to ‘see another man’s junk.’

Unfortunately it is inevitable that such an event will occur, especially if you’re often dragged into one of the science labs and forced to bathe under the cold water of the chemical rinse shower. Such a punishment would have taught most people a lesson about refusing to bathe, but not Kamukura.

“Oi, hurry up, I’m cold.” A harsh voice cut through Kamukura’s moment of recollection.

He turned to Matsuda just as he was closing the locker he shoved his underwear into. Matsuda had a pair of white towels in his hands, one extended towards Kamukura. Taking it with a steady hand, he then watched as Matsuda turned and headed into the men’s bathroom.

He's rather attractive from behind.

But like many other of his worthless observations, Kamukura shoved the thought into the deep recesses of his mind as he followed the boy closely behind.

The bath was rather humid, a thick layer of steam coating the room and leaving everything slightly damp and sheeny. The air was warm, implying that this place was used more recently than he had originally expected. “It appears you were correct.”

Matsuda tossed his towel onto one of the wooden seats near the corner of the room as he entered. Following suit, Kamukura dropped his towel there next to Matsuda's.

“Of course I’m fucking correct, I always am.” As Matsuda hissed, he pointed towards the row of showers and stools along the wall. “Sit down and I’ll wash your hair, it’s going to take too long to do yourself.”

“You understand that--” Before Kamukura could finish his sentence, a pair of hands slapped hard against his shoulders.

Matsuda spun him around and pushed him towards the showers, Kamukura walking along obediently. He didn’t speak a word as Matsuda forced him to sit down. “I understand that it’s difficult, Kamukura. You have a lot of fucking hair.”

He didn’t give Kamukura a chance to ask any more questions, as cold water was suddenly being blasted into his face from the shower head in Matsuda’s hand. He must have flinched, because Matsuda snorted and started cackling. “Oh the look on your face! So betrayed!”

Kamukura was certain his expression didn’t change, but Matsuda was acting strange. Like he was forcing a mood, deflecting, distracting Kamukura from his multitude of questions about the upkeep of his personal health.

Ah, he understood now.

He decided to play along. “To splash me with such cold water, how very cruel of you Matsuda Yasuke.”

Running the water onto his hand for a while, Matsuda allowed it to heat up and adjusted the temperature before bringing the stream of water back to his scalp. The warm water made Kamukura’s muscles feel as if they were turning to jello as a pleasant tingle creeped down his spine.

Lithe fingers threaded into the dark strands, spreading them in a way that allowed the water to completely rinse through. “Too hot?”

“Not at all, I prefer it hot.” Relaxing into the soothing touch, Kamukura allowed a soft sigh to pass his lips.

“Good, at least you’re not a complete freak. Still a little bit of human left in that big brain.” Matsuda tugged at a bit of hair, a small smile barely visible reflected in the mirror in front of him. It was a rare sight, he must be enjoying himself.

Kamukura considered returning the smile, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it, it felt wrong, foreign.

“You’re praising me for preferring hot water, yet I recite hundreds of digits of PI and you are not impressed.” He tilted his head slightly, allowing the warm water to trickle down his neck and onto his chest. “I do not understand, what is it about my intelligence that bothers you?”

“See, you’re asking stupid questions again.” The water was suddenly taken away, the tap switched off as Matsuda stepped forward to hang it back up. “Nothing about your intelligence ‘bothers me’ it’s just easier to fucking- to relate to you when you’re not whipping out a talent.”

He reached for a bottle of shampoo that had been left in a small tray on the floor, jumping when Kamukura spoke up again. “You would prefer if I was normal.”

Matsuda angrily snatched the bottle and uncapped the lid before tipping it upside down over the other boy’s head and squeezing hard.

“If that was the case, I never would have given you those stupid talents, would I?” His words were contradictory to his tone. And within them held a bitter truth Matsuda seemed to not want to be confronted with.

“You don’t understand your actions and resent yourself for it.”

“And you need to stop trying to psychoanalyse people. Nobody wants to talk to a weirdo who makes them uncomfortable.”

Once Matsuda has squeezed out the entirety of the bottle’s contents, he tossed it aside and began to lather up his hair, bringing the ends up and wrapping it in a soapy mess on top of his head. He was rather rough in his technique, but Kamukura didn’t mind.

Deciding to keep his mouth shut, he hummed softly in contentment. Trying to get anything out of Matsuda always proved difficult; he was stubborn. For a guy with such a deep interest in neurology you would think he’d be able to acknowledge his own psychological issues. It was just another one of Matsuda’s many self-destructive personality traits.

A strong tug on his hair perked Kamukura’s attention. “Oi, stop watching me like that. You’re going to get it in your eyes.”

He made a soft noise in response, allowing his eyelids to settle over his eyes. With one less sense active, Kamukura found himself melting into the sensation of blunt nails scraping along his scalp and massaging gently, almost as if they were seeking out something.

Slender fingers rubbed soothingly over the bumpy scars lining Kamukura's scalp, coaxing a soft huff of satisfaction from the boy beneath him. Matsuda made a noise like he was about to comment, but merely sighed instead. “Put your head down so I can get the hair at the back.”

Carefully, Kamukura craned his neck forward, uncovering his nape even further. It was an incredibly vulnerable position; completely naked with his eyes closed and neck exposed, yet he couldn’t find himself feeling worried. If Matsuda did have any intentions of killing him, he probably wouldn't mind dying by his hand anyway.

Matsuda's fingers threaded into the sensitive hair resting at the back of his neck, eliciting a shudder from Kamukura. He worked the shampoo into the knotted hair, grumbling softly as his fingers got caught multiple times.

“You really should try to brush this mess more often you know. If you just took better care I wouldn’t have to deal with it when it gets this bad.” A soft hiss could be heard as he yanked at some more strands, however, the sound hadn’t come from Kamukura. “It’s like you enjoy making my life a living hell.”

“That is not the case. Brushing my hair is a mundane task with little reward, I do not enjoy it.” Kamukura explained.

“Yeah, and neither do I.” A loud groan left Matsuda as he contemplated the best way to clarify things. “Most things involving general upkeep are mundane, but you still have to do them you spoiled brat.”

Those comforting hands left Kamukura’s hair and he found himself instantly missing the sensation. Leaning over his shoulder, Matsuda reached for the shower head once again and turned on the tap.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

A torrent of warm water hit Kamukura’s face, rinsing the shampoo from his bangs. He pursed his lips together and squeezed his eyes closed a little tighter to keep the soap out. Matsuda stroked through the wet strands to ensure they had been thoroughly rinsed, an uncharacteristically soft sigh escaping from him into the tense air.

When Matsuda moved to working on the back of his hair. Kamukura spoke up. “Something is on your mind.”

“Get out of my head freak.” That scathing tone quickly returned. “You just look weird like this, like a drowned rat.”

“Ah, I see. This amuses you?”

Another sharp tug on his hair. “No, brat. It annoys me how much of a child you are, completely incompetent. You know I don’t enjoy cleaning up your fucking mess.”

Grumbling something that sounded an awful lot like, “Dumbass.” Matsuda stood up again and turned the water off. “You can finish washing yourself, learn to be more responsible.”

Kamukura nodded. “Thank you, Matsuda.”

With a final sigh, Matsuda sat down in the stool to his right and reached for another bottle. Kamukura turned back to the dish in front of him, picking up the bottle of liquid soap before uncapping the lid and pouring some into his hand. He lathered it up between his hands to bring it to a light foam before beginning to scrub at his skin, starting with his arms.

Beside him, Matsuda was working shampoo into his roots. It was rather odd to see him with his bangs slicked back, exposing his forehead and thick eyebrows. He couldn’t help but admire how nice of a look it was on Matsuda, to have his face exposed to the light for once instead of hidden beneath dark bangs and poor basement lighting.

He really was as pretty as the reserve course girls rumoured him to be.

Turning back to what he was doing, Kamukura focused on the sensation of soap rubbing away the thin layer of grime that was clinging to his skin. As much as he refused to bathe, he truly did understand why people did it. It’s refreshing, makes one healthier, relieves feelings of fatigue. What he didn’t understand was why it seemed so difficult to motivate himself to engage in a task that rewarded him greatly.

It was strange. If someone desires to do something, they should do it, correct? Yet he had no desires.

They had been surgically removed by Matsuda’s precise hand.

Was his lack of proper hygiene habits only skin deep? Was there truly any point in analysing and fussing over it?

But, there was always that small chance, the chance that it was something more. Perhaps was there even something wrong with his brai--?

“Are you done? Or you can’t even do this?” Leaning his hands onto his knees, Matsuda pushed himself up from the stool and turned to Kamukura.

Ah, he had spaced out yet again.

With a nod, Kamukura reached for the shower head and began to rinse the soap from his body, avoiding Matsuda’s steely gaze all the while.

Once clean, he hung the shower head back up and looked to the other boy, eyes instantly wandering downwards in a moment of distraction. Huh.

“It’s smaller than average.”

Matsuda blinked hard a few times, processing the words. His face twisted into a scowl and his cheeks quickly flushed with a bright red colour as he followed Kamukura’s gaze, “What?!”

“Ah." He pulled his eyes back up. "Nevermind. It’s unimportant.”

With a huff, Matsuda turned on his heel and made his way over to the large bath. The other boy followed at a short distance, careful not to slip on the tiled floor that had been coated with a thin layer of condensation.

Once he reached the bath, Matsuda leaned down and sat on the wooden edge that rimmed it. He dangled his legs into the warm water, a rather gentle smile perking on those thin lips at the sensation.

“Oi, weirdo, get in.” He waved a hand, beckoning the other to join him.

Obeying, Kamukura sat himself down next to Matsuda. He then pressed his palms into the polished wood and shifted his weight, slowly lowering himself into the hot water. The water was a perfect temperature, and he couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh of pleasure as his torso became submerged in a blissful heat.

“It’s good, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped Matsuda, “Why would you ever deprive yourself of this?”

“Hmmmmm, I don’t know.” Closing his eyes, Kamukura sunk further into the water until it rose up past his lips and sat just beneath his nose, nearly impeding his breathing.

Matsuda slipped himself into the water beside Kamukura with a smirk. “Oh? So Mayor Dumbass of 'I Was Wrong To Not Listen To Matsuda' -ville admits he's at fault? You mean to tell me he isn’t a perfect being? Shocking."

Shaking his head, Kamukura pushed himself up out of the water a little. “No, I am a perfect being.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Matsuda raised his arms over his head. He groaned audibly as he stretched the muscles and tried to work the tension from his shoulders.

Keeping the other in sight, Kamukura sunk back into the heated water, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by such pleasant warmth. It made his skin tingle and his limbs feel like they were floating, much like his hair beside his face.

Moving through the water, he eventually came up the wall of the bath and leaned his back against it, allowing his eyelids to flutter close before taking a deep and relaxed breath.

With the environment being so calm, it felt as if his brain was finally beginning to slow down. Concerns about Matsuda’s wellbeing, anxieties of the past, confusions of the present; they all melted away into the muggy atmosphere, leaving his head filled with nothing but a pleasant foggy sensation. It reminded him too much of the drug induced haze that was settled over his mind for the first few days after his birth.

“Matsudaaaa.” His weak attempt to whine came out more like a monotone groan. “I think I might fall asleep here.”

“Don't be a moron.” Matsuda splashed a bit of water in Kamukura’s direction, smirking when it hit his cheeks. “I’m not going to save you if you drown in the bath. You're on your own this time."

“Mm…” With a soft nod, Kamukura submerged the lower part of his face again, indicating he was tired of talking. The pleasant warmth kissed at his lips, a sensual feeling that made every bone in his body soften beneath its touch.

He felt as if he were floating endlessly through space.

Logically, he wasn’t, it was merely the buoyancy of the water giving that illusion of sensory deprivation. But that didn’t matter, all that mattered was the enticing pitch black void beginning to swallow him whole.

Kamukura let go.

.

.

.

“Oi, troglodyte…”

“Kamukura?”

“Izuru-! What did I say?!”

#Danganronpa 0 #Danganronpa #Matsuda Yasuke #Kamukura Izuru #Matsukamu #Ficgiri

[literaphobe]

Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so 

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao) 

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years) 

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

#ask

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Gary Smith x reader (There are no secrets at Bullworth)

REQUESTED? [Kylie Septic requested this]

Fandom: Bully Scholarship Edition

Pov: Reader's

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My movements were slow as I grabbed my textbook for my next class. I liked Gary Smith, the known sociopath of the school. I didn’t know why, but there was something about him that made me want to be near him. The only problem was–

“(Y/n)!” Gary screamed.

I jumped as I heard a hand slam into the locker next to mine. –He bullied me.

“Come on, Gary. Leave them alone,” Jimmy cut into the conversation.

I slowly turned around once I closed my locker shut to face Gary and Jimmy. Jimmy would always try to get Gary to back off, but I knew there wasn’t much he could do. My eyes were drawn to the floor tiles, my heart was leaping in my chest. What did he want from me? The scars I got at home were difficult enough to deal with…And now this?

“I know you’re little secret,” Gary said. 

My eyes flashed up to his face. Gary…He was smirking. My hands began to shake as he leaned closer to one of my ears. 

“I won’t tell anyone about the scars on your back if you do something for me,” He whispered, smirking as he knew he won the fight. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat, My breathing was shaky.

“I-I’ll do whatever you want me to, just please take a step back…You’re making me nervous,” I whimpered. 

His smirk only widened once I agreed to his ‘deal’.

“Good, pet. Follow me,” Gary ordered. 

I let out another shaky breath and brushed past Jimmy, giving him a small glance before I followed Gary back into his dorm room. Gary lounged on his bed, the smirk slowly fell from his face as his watch beeped twice. 

“Dammit,” He mumbled to himself. 

I watched in fear and confusion as he pulled out a few pill bottles and swallowed 3 pills. He took a few deep breaths before he started talking, “Okay, now that thing you’re going to do for me…I need to ask you a few questions. You can relax you know, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

I scoffed and turned my body away from him.

“I find that hard to believe,” I said to Gary, pissed about the situation. 

“Okay, you know how I always say how I’m so smart because I’m off of my meds now? Well, I lied. I started taking my meds because of that incident last year and I don’t want to get in trouble, so I’m keeping up my insane facade,” Gary explained.  

Gary was always one step ahead of everyone, but could he really be telling the truth?

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, confused.

Gary smiled and brushed his hair back with one of his hands, a playful smirk tugged at his lips.

“My reputation…Is shit. And I need your help to fix it. I won’t tell anybody about the scars if you do this.” Why would I do anything for Gary? Sure, I liked him, but he had bullied me since the first day I got here. “Hey,” I turned to Gary, slowly unfolding my arms to hold my hands together in front of me. “I’ll give you a kiss if you do it. I know you like me…I honestly don’t know why since I’ve treated you like shit since you got here, but-” My eyes fell to the floor in embarrassment as I heard him rise from his bed to approach me. I wouldn’t have noticed if the floorboards weren’t so creaky. Gary slowly pushed me back into the wall, his body towered over me intimidatingly. “So what do you say? A two for one deal. I won’t tell anybody about your shitty home life and scars AND you get a kiss by yours truly if you help me raise my rep. How about it?” I wanted to say no, but I wanted to believe that he was trying to change for the best.

“Why?” My voice was more timid than normal.

“Why do I need to get my reputation up? Well, I-” I shook my head which grabbed his attention and halted his sentence in one single moment.

“No, Well, I mean, I’d like to know, but that isn’t what I mean…Why did you treat me like garbage for so long?” I slowly glanced into Gary’s eyes to see him staring into mine as well.

“Well, you’re cute, and you’re a person and I don’t know how to act around cute people without antagonizing them,” Gary said.  

Gary’s hands quickly reached my face to cup it before he pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and sweet like candy. But, just as soon as the kiss came, he separated our lips. 

“Huh…” He mumbled to himself.

Gary let his thumb brush over my lips, analyzing my actions. My eyes were wide, shocked by the kiss. 

“That was…A lot better than I expected,” Gary said, mostly to himself. 

Before I could move away from his arms, Gary captured my lips with his once more, his hands traveled down to my hands. I felt my eyes glazing over as Gary pushed his body firmly against mine. Gary laughed lightly before he pulled away, separating one of his hands from mine to brush his hair back. 

“Wow…I should’ve tried that sooner. Damn…Okay, let’s go,” Gary said, flustered. 

Gary tightened his hold on one of my hands and led me to the greaser’s hangout. I guess he knew that I hung out with them. What exactly did he want me to do? 

“Okay, go on,” Gary urged me. 

I gave him a confused look before I stared at the hangout a little too long.

“What exactly do you want me to say?” I asked him.

Gary opened his mouth to respond, a small smirk on his lips, when Johnny and Peanut ran out, pushing me behind them. I knew how protective they were of me.

“Gary, what are you doing here? And with (y/n)?” One of the Greasers asked.

Maybe I should say something before a fight broke out.

“I’m helping Gary with his reputation. He’s trying to change,” I said. 

The two taller boys slowly backed away from Gary and turned to face me.

“You sure you’re okay with helping him? He’s not blackmailing you or anything?” 

I laughed, though this was true, I wouldn’t say that it was.

“No, I’m fine. Could you two do me a favor and spread it around school that Gary isn’t a sociopath anymore?” I gently asked so my job would be easier.

The two greasers nodded before returning to their usual hangout place. Gary let out a sigh of relief, not realizing that he was holding his breath just seconds before.

“Thanks, (y/n). Geez, they might not be the smartest, but they sure as hell are the strongest,” Gary breathed out. 

Gary quickly grabbed one of my hands before I could say anything and led me a bit away from the greaser’s hangout place. What the hell was he doing?

“Where are we-” I started to speak until Gary cut me off.

Gary stopped walking as we reached the back of the dormitories, it was so quiet back here. What was he planning…?

“Look, I need to say something before I hate myself for not saying shit.” I simply looked at him, waiting for the continuation of his sentence. “I admire how strong you are for baring your home life…And it sucks that you’re here at this shitty place because you deserve to be somewhere much better…And I’m sorry for making your life so much harder than it needed to be…Don’t tell anyone I was all mushy like this, got it?” 

I wanted to say something, anything…But Instead, I grabbed Gary’s face and quickly pressed my lips to his, it felt like the right thing to do.

#Gary Smith x reader #Bully scholarship edition x reader #Gary Smith imagine #Bully Scholarship imagine #Gary Smith fanfiction #Bully Scholarship fanfiction #Gary smith #bully scholarship edition #fanfiction #fanfic #self insert #x reader