#I can feel the anxiety melting away and it’s great I’m able to actually relax a bit

[an1malcannibal]

Guys I don’t think my anxiety ever went away I think that it just moved itself and got worse.

[isthataneren]

hugs ~ hcs

a/n: deep down, once you get past the overwhelming anxiety involving affection, all I really want to do is hug people 

∫ summary: you love hugging. a lot. how would the bakusquad react?

∫ pairings: bakusquad(individual) x crush!reader

∫ warnings: none, fluffy fluff

Bakugou Katsuki:

Sitting in the common room with the others Bakugou was grumpy

All he wanted to do was go to his room and not talk to anybody for the rest of the day; well, the only exception being you

But he couldn’t just single you out from the rest of the losers he hangs out with

That would make it too obvious that he feels a little different towards you than he does them

It’s definitely not a crush though

Yeah sure whatever you say

So he just is forced to sit through another insufferable game that the others are playing because he’s hoping to at least see you before he high tails it to his room for the rest of the day

They forced him to play a round of Mario Kart but after he almost breaks the tv they decide it’s best to let him just spectate

Except he’s on his phone so he’s not paying attention

Which is precisely why he didn’t see you enter the room until he heard Mina squeal as you plopped down on her lap

“Hey! you know I love your hugs but I’m on my last lap. Go sit on Bakugou! He won’t mind”

“Like hell I won’t!”

He wouldn’t

But he had to keep up the facade

That didn’t last for long though

You shuffled your way over to him, standing and pouting slightly waiting for him to consent

Good god that cute face is going to be the death of him

Sighing, he just uncrossed his arms and opened them slightly

You brightened up at the invitation, not actually have expected for him to do it

Without waiting for him to take the offer back you climbed into his lap, wrapping your legs and arms around him

Stiffly put his arms around you

After a minute he relaxes a little, running his hand down your back once before securing it around your waist

You sigh into his neck

“Thank you”

He just grunts in return

Doesn’t want to admit it but he likes it more than he thought he would

Won’t want you to do it in public again though

He never heard the end of the squad’s teasing

Kirishima Eijiro:

Loves it

Though it does catch him off guard

Especially when you do it in public

So he was out with you and his friends

And they were currently getting food and left you two alone together

Definitely on purpose on Mina’s part

You were playing on your phone next to him while he was just admiring you with a big smile on his face

How were you so cute??

He felt so lucky to be able to know you, even if you weren’t dating yet

Totally didn’t notice that you noticed that he was staring at you

You took the opportunity to put your phone aside and turn to him

Blushes when he realized he was caught

“Can I hug you?”

The questions takes him off guard for a moment

“Hug me?”

You nod enthusiastically

His heart melts at your smile

Once he shakes out of his stupor, he grins brightly

“Of course!”

Within a second you were hugging

It was a little awkward with you both sitting but you made it work

His arms loosely wrapped around your waist as your arms did the same

His head rested on top of yours

It was a sweet hug

Not too tight or too loose

You were both so caught up in your own little blissful worlds that you didn’t even realize when the others showed back up

“AWWW! Man, they’re so cute!”

You both sprang apart, cheeks hot with embarrassment 

“Kaminari! You scared them!” 

“Sorry dude”

Kiri sighs before smiling softly at you

Maybe next time he can hold you for a little longer

Kaminari Denki:

You were worried about a test that was due to take place the following day

Mina assured you that you would do fine but you were still worried

Kaminari jumped in to support, telling you that as long as you did better than him, you would be fine

This caused you to uno reverse and start saying supportive things back to him

It became a competition on who could be more enthusiastic about the test

You both did a review together that night, seeing as you convinced him to do a last minute study session in preparation

Later on the next day you were waiting for the results from the test that you took, head swimming with anticipation

When you finally got your grade back your eyes widened and you looked at Kaminari, who was already looking at you with the same expression

“We passed!!!”

Next thing he knew, a weight slammed into him

kaminari.exe has stopped functioning

Did his crush, whom he is always trying to get attention from, just hug him???

Is this real??

All thoughts of the test flew out of his mind as he blanked 

It took him almost a solid minute to realize that his arms had wrapped around you subconsciously and that you were rambling about how well he did

He snapped out of his stupor and squeezed you tightly

“You did really well too! Don’t give me all the credit.”

Tries to act nonchalant but fails miserably

His face is red but he's smiling goofily

When you pull away he already is counting down the minutes until you hug him again

Mina Ashido: 

Yes yes yes

She loves affection, so when you are even slightly affectionate she wants to combust

You both were in her room doing your homework together so you could watch a movie after you were finished

She was already itching to wrap you in a hug but she wanted to at least finish some of her homework beforehand

Since you told her that she couldn’t hug you until she did

Pouting but trying her best

Once she got five questions right without a mistake you pulled her into a quick hug

Now she was really craving a cuddle

It felt like she had a mountain of work left but she pushed on as best as she could, thoughts of cuddling for the rest of the night kept her energized

Finally, finally she finished her work and was practically dragging you to her bed for snuggles

You barely got the movie turned on before she wrapped every possible limb around you, head buried in your chest

Can’t believe that she was able to make it that long without affection tbh

So dramatic

Granted, you were also surprised you could suppress it too

Considering Mina is great at hugs

They’re quite addicting

Alas, I digress

Seeing as you couldn’t move very well, you couldn’t return the love that you were receiving

“Uhh Mina?”

She hummed happily against your chest

“I want to cuddle you too”

“Huh?”

She realized the position that you were in

“Oh! Whoops”

Releasing her hold on you slightly, she moved a little to the side to make it more comfortable for you to wrap your arms around her, burying your face in her hair

She couldn’t be any more happy than this

Well, she would be if she could give you kisses too

But she’ll have to save that for later ;)

Sero Hanta: 

Happy baby

But also a little shy (just a little tho)

It was break time between classes and he was standing in the hallway next to the vending machine, talking to his friends

There was only a couple minutes left before he had to get back to class but he was making the most of it

It had been a pretty chill week for everyone, all things considering

No villains, no tests

Just normal school stuff plus hero training

Everyone was quite relieved about that

The only thing is Sero hasn’t seen you in a while

Usually you hang out with Mina so, in extension, the rest of the squad as well

But you’ve been gone the last week on a trip with your relatives 

You got back two days before but he only saw you in class since you had to do extra stuff to make up work

It seems that you finally got a break, though

He felt arms wind around his waist, a body pressing close to his side

Startled, he looks at the person only to recognize them immediately 

You tucked yourself against him, face pressed into his neck

He could physically feel the tension leaving your body as you relaxed against him

Smiling, he wound an arm around your waist, pulling you a little in front of him before wrapping his other arm around you

“How was your week?”

You groaned

“Don’t get me started”

He chuckled lightly before going back to the conversation he was having, rubbing your back softly

Kirishima didn’t say anything, just smiled and continued talking to Sero

Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows at his friend, who, if you squinted close enough, had a faint blush on his cheeks

So maybe he was a little flustered at the sudden PDA

But he cherished every moment with you

So he didn’t mind 

He only hoped he could work up the courage to properly ask you out sometime in the future

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Part Two

____

Part Three

I did my best to take Scott's words to heart. It was eye-opening and, while it didn't change my concerns about how Grayson would be affected, it helped me soften my guard a little bit when it came to Chris.

We were both in over our heads, stuck with feelings that we didn't know what to do with and insecurities that left us unable to fight for what we wanted. I had doubts and I had questions, but if what Scott had divulged was true then I did have some sympathy for Chris because I knew exactly how he'd been feeling for the last few years.

So, I decided to talk to him. To hash it out, lay it all on the table and see what he had to say. I wasn't entirely sure I would change my mind about the situation, but I wanted to give him a chance to explain his thoughts and feelings unlike how I'd shut the conversation down after Christmas.

But I didn't count on how chaotic it was to be trapped in a house, all day every day, with a child who was almost three. Even with three adults, there were days when it felt like we were the ones who were outnumbered as we took turns trying to keep him constantly entertained and stimulated. To our credit, it was working and we were managing to keep Grayson from being bored, anxious to go out to a park or noticing that things were all that different, but it meant that I had no time or energy to deal with heavy conversations. Things were fine between Chris and I, we were getting along well enough with no more noteworthy disagreements, but there hadn't been a good time for any kind of heart-to-heart.

Things only got more complicated about a week and a half into our lockdown when Chris had to start doing interviews. He had a new show, Defending Jacob, coming out in a few weeks and he had to start the promo for it.

Most people who were working from home these days with small children running around had way more difficult situations to balance than we did, but we knew it would be tricky to keep Grayson from getting curious and barging into an interview. He'd proven to be quite sneaky when he wanted to be and Chris was anxious about the whole thing. He wasn't a big fan of interviews at the best of times so doing it over Zoom made him even more nervous. He spent the whole morning fretting about it being awkward, concerned that he wouldn't be able to relax and act natural, and it seemed like he was channelling his anxiety into his worries about Grayson. He very much liked to be in control of what the world saw of Gray and having him crash an interview wasn't what he wanted. I completely agreed and assured him several times that I wouldn't let that happen, but I could tell he was still stressed about it as he dragged himself off to get ready.

For the first hour or so that Chris was working, things went well. We read a story and played with some Lego, activities that wouldn't get Grayson too excited and noisy, but when Scott suggested that he curl up on the couch and watch Finding Nemo with him, we ran into a problem.

"Okay!" Grayson cheered, jumping up from where we'd been playing on the floor. "Be right back!"

He took off down the hall and I leapt into action, calling his name and stopping him just as he got to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you going, buddy?"

"To get my bear!"

Grayson's room was upstairs, next to Chris' office. He knew where Chris was so I knew there was a good chance he would stop by to say hello on his way past the door.

"Why don't you go get settled on the couch with Uncle Scott and I'll get your bear so you don't miss any of the movie?" I suggested. "Is he in your room?"

"No," he shook his head. "He's in Daddy's office."

I held back a groan, knowing that Gray would not be happy if I explained that he couldn't have his bear for the movie because we weren't allowed in Daddy's office right now. But I also knew that now he'd decided that he wanted to watch a movie, it wasn't likely that he would settle doing anything else either.

"Well, Daddy's very busy in his office right now," I explained. "But I'll go upstairs and see if I can sneak in and get him, okay?"

Grayson agreed to that suggestion and ran off back towards the living room as I glanced at the clock on the wall quickly and hoped that Chris was between interviews. I knew he wouldn't be done for the day just yet, but he had a few lined up so there was a chance that he wasn't currently on a call.

As soon as I pressed my ear to the door of Chris' office, my hopes were dashed. I could hear the sound of laughter echoing through from his laptop so I knew he was in the middle of something, but just as I was about to walk away I heard something that caught my attention.

"You have a son of your own, don't you?" The interviewer asked and I cringed, knowing that it wasn't something Chris liked to discuss. His character in the show was a father though so I wasn't surprised it had come up, it gave them a segue that they hadn't really had before. "How is that going with this lockdown?"

Ever the professional, Chris didn't even hesitate before he answered even though I knew he would be annoyed by the line of questioning.

"Oh, it's great! He's staying with me until all this is over so it's great that we get to spend so much time together," he told the interviewer. "I'm lucky enough to be in a situation where I can just take a few months off until things cool down without too much worry so we've just been relaxing, building blanket forts, watching movies and getting in some bonding time that I miss out on when I'm busy. It's had some challenges, but it's been really nice."

I knew I shouldn't be listening, it was rude to eavesdrop even if the conversation would shortly be broadcast to the whole world, but again, the interviewer's next question had me too intrigued to walk away. Despite all the talking points that he could have chosen from Chris' answer, he zeroed in on one thing.

"He's staying with you for the entire lockdown? Is there a rekindled romance we don't know about?" He asked. "Or is his mother no longer in the picture?"

My jaw dropped. I didn't know who Chris was talking with today, but it wasn't like his team to set him up for any interviews where he would be asked questions like that and most interviewers were too polite to fish for the kind of gossip you'd find in a trashy magazine.

"Oh, I'm not gonna get into all that." Chris' tone was much more clipped than it had been moments before - he was clearly not impressed by the question either. "It's not anyone's business really, is it? But I will say that she is definitely in the picture and one of the best moms that I know. She's staying here with us too."

My heart melted a bit at his compliment even though I knew the words he added at the end meant that we were in for a whole new gossip storm.

It suddenly felt like I really was overstepping by standing at the door listening to this conversation without his knowledge so I headed back downstairs. As I got back into the living room, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a message to Chris:

It would appear that you have a stowaway. I know you're busy, but please return Mr. Bear at your earliest convenience.

I put my phone away as I explained the situation to Grayson, but luckily, he was too interested in the movie to pay much attention to what I'd said. By the time Chris came down with the bear, it was like he'd forgotten that he ever cared about it in the first place.

Most of my attention was on Chris at that point though. The way he scurried into the room, avoiding looking in my direction at all. He looked ashamed and withdrawn and I couldn't hold back a sigh when he left the room quickly as I knew that he was beating himself up over the conversation that he didn't even know I'd heard.

-

Chris was sullen for the rest of the day. He perked up around Grayson, but whenever Gray was distracted there was a scowl or a frown firmly planted on his face. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how without confessing that I'd overheard his interview. Given his mood and the ease with which we fell into disagreements these days, that seemed like it would cause more issues than it would help.

The news broke at about eleven that night and I knew because I was suddenly inundated with texts from friends and with follower requests on my private social media accounts. I pulled up the video and watched the interview, feeling another wave of empathy when I saw the annoyance written all over Chris' face as he answered the questions. He'd found a subtle way to shut the interview down almost immediately after the incident and I was proud of him for handling it so diplomatically.

I added it to the list of things that I needed to talk to Chris about whenever I got the chance as I pulled myself away from my laptop and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. However, when I got into the hallway, I noticed a light coming up from downstairs. As far as I knew, everyone had gone to bed almost an hour ago, but I had a good idea whose thoughts would be keeping them awake so I headed down to investigate.

My suspicions were confirmed as I walked into the living room and saw Chris on the couch, his phone in his hand and his brow furrowed.

"Uh oh," I started, making his eyes snap up towards me. "Are you doomscrolling?"

The angry look on his face softened slightly as he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Doomscrolling?"

"Yeah," I shrugged with a smile. "That's what the kids call it these days when you spend too long scrolling through the news or Twitter, just soaking in all the bad shit in the world."

Chris chuckled as I moved into the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch that he was on, tucking my feet underneath me.

"I didn't know you were so down with the kids these days."

"I'm getting old, Chris. I'm almost thirty-two, I have to stay cool somehow." I shot him a wink. "But anyway, what are you reading that's making you look so grumpy?"

Chris sighed and locked his phone, putting it on the end table next to the couch.

"I said something in an interview today," he admitted. "Something that I shouldn't have said."

I watched him for a moment, waiting for him to look at me and elaborate, but when he didn't, I spoke up.

"I hope you're not about to tell me that you regret saying what a good mom I am or I'll be really disappointed..."

That comment brought Chris' gaze back to me, his shock evident on his face until it faded into a grimace.

"You heard what I said?"

"I watched the video," I admitted. "I had a flurry of Instagram activity that tipped me off."

"You didn't read the comments, did you?"

There was worry written all over Chris' face when I shrugged.

"Of course I did. Can't have my self-esteem getting too high, can we?" I was teasing, but his look of gloom only deepened. "Chris, it doesn't matter. I'm no supermodel, they're not saying anything I don't already know."

"See, this is what bothers me," Chris snapped. "My so-called 'fans' are out there spewing all this crap about you and you're acting like it's all true, so who cares? Well, I care because it's bullshit and you don't deserve it!"

"I didn't mean it like that," I assured him, keeping my voice quiet in an attempt to cool the situation.

We'd been here many times over the years and I knew how enraged the comments made Chris. He saw right through me, he knew that I took some of the things that had been said to heart, but who wouldn't? It's hard not to take it personally when someone points out your biggest insecurities, the things that you hope no one else notices, the things that you tell yourself can't possibly be true or as bad as you think in your head. It's impossible not to let it get to you a little bit, but I was well practiced at dealing with it and had grown a thicker skin.

At least, when it came to the comments about my appearance. The comments about how I'm not good enough and how Chris could do better always struck a cord, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

"No?" Chris huffed. "What did you mean then?"

"That I know I'm an easy target because I'm not stick thin with a boob job," I answered, wanting to diffuse the situation before Chris got too upset. "They're cruel and mean, but they're just jealous because they think their dream boyfriend is taken now."

"Well, anyone who claims to be a real fan of mine wouldn't talk like that about someone I care about," he grumbled. "I shouldn't have answered, I should have just ignored the question."

"Actually, I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you set the record straight rather than have everyone think I've abandoned my child. I would probably get even more hate for that."

"He shouldn't have even asked about it," Chris continued. "It was so out of line. Why can't people just mind their own business?"

"Because everyone adores you and has a burning desire to know everything about you," I teased, stretching my feet out to nudge his leg gently. His lips twitched briefly into a smile, but it faded as fast as it appeared. "Even my friends were all messaging me, asking if it was true like gossiping teenage girls. Everyone wants the Chris Evans scoop."

That comment earned me a chuckle and I relaxed slightly, hoping that he was starting to calm down.

"I'm sure your friends were more interested in the gossip about your life, not because of me."

"I dunno," I shrugged. "They always liked you."

Chris smiled, but a sigh slipped from his lips as he draped his arm over my feet where they rested on the couch next to him. We sat quietly for a moment as I continued watching him, wishing there was something I could say to ease the worry in his mind, but his next words left me a little bit speechless.

"I do get it, you know?" He said, his eyes still fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. "I get why you wouldn't want to be with me. I get that it's a lot to deal with."

My heart sank at his admission and I scrambled to figure out what to say.

It wasn't ideal - discussing our relationship, while he was already feeling quite murderous - but he'd brought it up and it was hard to say when we'd get another chance. Once again, I found myself fighting the urge to bolt for the door, but I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hoping that this would be a civil conversation.

"Chris, it's not that," I insisted, my voice soft in what I hoped would be a soothing tone. "Maybe they didn't do anything to ease my concerns, but the bullies on the internet aren't what scared me away."

"No?" His eyes flicked up to meet mine. "Then what did?"

He sounded so defeated and I bit my lip to keep my emotions from bubbling up. The truth was that I didn't know where to start. There was too much floating around my head, too many questions and too many explanations that made less sense now that I knew what I knew after speaking with Scott. I was scared, but it was a very justified fear that could only be made sense of by answering his question with another question.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in love with me?"

Chris raised an eyebrow, but shrugged off the question.

"You didn't seem like you wanted to hear it, Whitney. I told you that I was all in after Christmas and you shut me down pretty fast," he pointed out. "I didn't think blurting out a confession of love would do much to change that."

Had that been what I was referring to, it would have been a fair argument. However, I was referring to long before our latest incident so I shook my head.

"I talked to Scott," I confessed as a slight look of betrayal slid onto Chris’ face. "Don't be mad, he'd had a few drinks and was feeling sentimental. He told me that you were in love with me long before Grayson was even in the picture, but you never told me."

"I slept with you, didn't I?" He questioned, a defensiveness creeping into his tone. "Doesn't that make someone's feelings pretty fuckin' clear?"

"Hardly," I scoffed. "People sleep with people they're not in love with all the time and it becomes even less clear when they meet up afterwards to have a discussion about their relationship and that someone makes no mention of being in love."

"Was it really a discussion? Or did I show up at your apartment just to hear you lay out the ground rules?"

I faltered slightly as I thought back, but after a moment of reflection, I nodded.

"It was a discussion."

"I believe the first words out of your mouth were 'I think we both know that we're better off as friends'," he informed me. "Doesn't leave much room for debate."

"I was scared." That confession came out less confidently, but I found my voice again quickly. "And I assumed that's what you wanted too because you never pushed back."

He cocked his head to the side, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"You weren't the only one who was scared."

"I was the only one who was pregnant," I retorted, my tone growing harsher as my frustrations started to rise. "I was the only one who was trying to make a massive life decision while hormonal and growing another human being inside of them."

"That's fair," Chris nodded, his voice much calmer than I expected after my burst of annoyance. "But I wasn't about to pour my heart out and tell you how I felt when you kept talking about what a mistake we'd made as if you'd never regretted anything more in your life."

"Getting pregnant was a mistake," I clarified. "I love Grayson and I wouldn't change it for anything, but we can't say it wasn't a mistake at the time given our situation."

"A situation that you didn't want to change."

"Only because you never told me how you felt," I shot back. "I didn't want you to commit to something out of a sense of obligation. I didn't want you to put up with me for a few years until you dumped me for someone more in your league who you actually cared about."

There was a look of surprise on Chris' face at that revelation as it became more and more obvious to both of us that we hadn't been as good at communicating as we may have thought. It seemed we'd both been so convinced that we knew exactly how the other person felt that we hadn't bothered to actually ask them.

"But I did care about you," he assured me. "And you never told me how you felt either."

"I slept with you, didn't I?"

There was a smirk on my face as I threw his words back at him despite the anxiety that was bubbling inside me.

"A wise woman just informed me that sleeping with someone doesn't necessarily mean anything," he teased, a soft smile on his face. "But I think it's safe to say that we were both cowards."

"Again, in my defence, I was pregnant," I reminded him. "I was trying to make a logical decision while my brain was muddled with hormones."

"But you could have told me after," he pointed out. "We lived together for year after he was born, Whitney, and you never even dropped a hint."

"Oh, please," I snorted out a harsh laugh. "Do you remember what that year was like? We had a newborn baby who never slept for more than ten minutes at a time and you were flying in and out for the first six months, filming one of the Avengers movies. I was delirious, exhausted and emotionally wrecked. I wasn't in the right head space to give much thought to our relationship."

"So, if I had made a move back then? Would it have made a difference?" He asked. "Because it didn't seem to matter much a few months ago."

This was the real issue at hand.

It was all well and good to talk about the past and how we'd managed to come this far so oblivious to each other's feelings, but the real discussion was where we were at now. And the truth was, that I didn't know.

I opened my mouth to answer, but shut it as my words escaped me. I shifted nervously, shrugging under his stare until a sigh fell from my lips.

"I'm not sure anymore," I admitted. "If you'd told me how you felt back then, if you fought for us to be together then I might've been swayed."

"But now?"

"Now, I think we made the right decision for Grayson."

Chris was still staring me down, his eyes locked on mine as if he was looking into my soul. It was an intensity that was hard to endure and I was relieved when he spoke again, despite how his words made my heart ache.

"But what about the right decision for us?"

"That's not what's important," I insisted. "I've seen so many of my friends struggle through their parents' bitter divorces, I don't want that for Gray. I don't want us to lose our ability to work as a team and put him first."

"Yeah, you mentioned that several times," Chris huffed. "But I don't see why you're so fuckin' convinced that we'd end up hating each other."

His frustration and impatience was shining through and I felt my panic rising again. Chris had made his stance clear and I knew I needed to make a decision soon or my lack of decision would decide for me, but I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The thought of not being with Chris made my heart ache especially now that I knew the extent of his feelings, but the thought of being with him and the consequences that could come from that set every anxious nerve in my body on edge.

I found myself scrambling for something to say that was non-committal, but would placate the situation. I floundered until, fortunately, a tiny voice from the doorway saved me.

"Daddy said a bad word..."

I leapt off the couch, desperate for any excuse to get away and Chris raised his eyebrow at my swift reaction. I ignored him as I looked at Grayson, who was rubbing his eyes with one hand and clutching his bear in the other. He looked so small, standing there in his little flannel pajamas and I smiled at the sight.

"That is a bad word," I agreed. "Daddy shouldn't have said it. But what are you doing up?"

"I had a bad dream."

His voice was small as he was still half asleep and Chris stood, following me over as I walked towards him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, buddy," he said, lifting him up in his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Grayson shook his head. "It was scary."

"Awe, I'm sorry, sweetheart," I frowned as I rubbed his back, my heart melting at how small he looked in Chris' arms. "Do you want me to tuck you back in or Daddy?"

He rested his head on Chris' chest and pulled his bear so close that his answer got muffled by the stuffed animal's fur.

"I want to sleep in Daddy's bed..."

I looked up at Chris, letting him decide if that was okay, but he was already nodding his head.

"Sure, we can do that," he assured him. "But don't hog all the blankets this time, okay?"

Grayson giggled and I smiled as they headed to the door.

"Goodnight, boys," I called to them before they disappeared. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Chris paused to answer me and flashed me a look that made me feel like a schoolgirl being scolded by the principal. "This conversation isn't over."

It felt like a foreboding warning and it left me so flustered that all I could do was nod before he turned and continued on his way to his bedroom.

He was right.

Our conversation couldn't end there unless we wanted another four years of miscommunication and mutual longing, but I didn't know what to do. I wasn't trying to be difficult, but both options seemed destined to lead to heartache. Of course, I had no evidence to prove that we wouldn't live happily ever after, but he was Chris Evans. He was the man that women all over America, all over the world, would kill to be with. And I was just me. Once I fell off whatever pedestal he'd put me on in his mind and he realized how ordinary and unremarkable I was, it wouldn't last.

And I couldn't spend the rest of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.

With a sigh, I headed to the stairs. My head was a mess despite my hopes that talking to Chris would bring me some clarity. It seemed I was starting a pattern of coming away from late night conversations with more questions than answers, but I was beginning to think that might be due to the fact that I would never be told what I wanted to hear. No one could make this decision for me and no one could make it a fool proof choice.

There was always a risk when it came to love. I just had to decide if that risk was worth it and start being honest with myself about why I was so scared. Were my intentions really as noble as I wanted everyone to believe? Or was I using Grayson as a shield to protect my own heart from pain as much as his?

-

Part Four

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

[liitlesunshiine]

High on the clock

Quirkless AU - Toya Todoroki

Warnings: cursing, drug use, anxiety, panic attack mention, suggestive themes, slight sexual themes 

A fun light hearted fic. Definitely enjoyed writing this piece so I hope you guys enjoy reading it. ^.^ It’s flirty n cute n Toya is a total bae. <3 

You and Toya are coworkers who try making the most out of your shitty job. 

------------------------

“Goddd this place fuckin blows.” You groaned in frustration sitting across Toya. 

“As if I didn’t know that already,” he sleeplishly replied. 

You never intended on working in this shit show of a store for as long as you have but yet, here you were two wasted years later. You had high hopes after graduation but it seems no job wants to hire someone with no experience and you can’t get any experience since you can’t get an actual job that’ll provide it. So it’s forced you in this sort of awkward limbo and vicious cycle of going back and forth. You’ve been stuck wearing this shitty bright uniform with a barely livable wage and terrible hours. Miserable every second of the day, with the constant guilt eating at you for being so complacent. 

Of course there were a few exceptions.

Of course… Like the highly attractive coworker you spent most of your time here with. Days spent with Toya were significantly better than the days spent without Toya. In fact, if it weren’t for him, you’d probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as you had here. Because man, when days were good they were ok, but when the days were bad, they were really fucking bad.  Some in which you were ready to burn down everyone and everything yet the sweet, hot, god-like Toya would make you melt with his cute quirky smile and meet your eyes with his own that you would absolutely drown in and next thing you know, you had completely forgotten about what you were upset over. Now, it’s just a bonus that he meets your sarcasm with his own, the both of you have always had this flirty like atmosphere that neither of you are willing to acknowledge but low key kinda know there’s an underlying sexual tension there. It was strange how well you both got along, the average onlooker would assume nothing more than a simple boyfriend and girlfriend relationship but it was really just mutual likability and connection between the two of you. Days with Toya were simply good days. And you were absolutely grateful for someone like him because god knows how terrible it’d really be here without him.

“Why don’t we make this night a bit memorable,” Toya who was right next to you behind the counter, gives you a side wink and unzips the company jacket to reveal a small ziplock within the pocket. Andddddd long behold it’s weed! You chuckle to yourself, never getting tired of Toya’s shenanigans. Very much appreciated as he’s best form of entertainment here. 

“Toya we almost got caught last time, you really wanna risk it again?” Your words ran on deaf ears as he was already rolling up the blunt underneath the counter, “what’s the worst they can do? Fire us?” You stopped for a second and nodded, well he wasn’t wrong. Maybe this was the push you needed to finally leave this shit hole. “You got a point, let’s do it quick before someone comes in.” 

While this is a 24 hour convenience store, usually pass 1am, rarely anyone is inside. So you suppose it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea. Plus with Toya your bound to have a good time, who are you to deny him. You trusted in him enough to get away with his bs. 

“Pass the lighter doll,” you fished for the lighter that was nicely decorated with little blue flames over in your small book bag and passed it to him. He holds the blunt between his two hands and you duck underneath the counter with him. “Ladies first,” he cockily said, you lean forward and placed your mouth on the blunt while he held it for you. He always did this and it always felt oddly intimate to you. Couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in your chest taking over when his glass like eyes gazed over you. They always made you curious and somehow hungry for knowledge of his life. You’ve never knew someone so well yet know nothing of them, but that’s always been enigma of Touya. You exhaled closing your eyes, attempting to calm your nerves. “You know the only time I ever smoke is on the job with you.” He smirked bringing the blunt to his own lips, “guess I’m a bad influence then.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Everyone needs a lil spice in their life, no?” It was his turn to roll his eyes. You gently grabbed his wrist and led the blunt back to your lips again, he stared quietly at you. Which oddly made you tense up. “Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled. 

“Like what?” He smiled. 

“Like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world that you can’t live without.” Now you both laughed. This was the usual routine with Toya; cracking jokes and talking shit for a bit and simply enjoying each other’s company while the store was empty. He finally broke the trance you were in when he spoke up. 

“You know, having my father kick me out of the house wasn’t so bad after all,” Toya leaned in. 

You looked at him with a puzzled look, he never brings up his father. Whenever the conversation appeared it was quickly diverted elsewhere. You didn’t want to poke or intrude but curiosity got the best of you and you couldn’t help but want to continue the conversation. “Yea? Why is that?” You wondered. His father, from what you’ve been able to gather with the little bits Toya has mentioned here and there, was that supposedly his father is some CEO to a multi million dollar company. Odd considering the likes to where Toya ended up but you concluded that they must’ve ended in bad terms. You understood how cruel and selfish parents can be and didn’t need further explanation on that part. Easy to assume considering how poorly and little he speaks of him. He shut your ideas off with his simple response. 

“I wouldn’t be smoking a blunt with the world’s most beautiful girl under this shitty counter, if it weren’t for it.” Ha, that definitely caught you off guard, causing a light blush to form across your face. Even with a seeming sensitive topic he still manages to tease you. He’s got that cheeky smile plastered all over, “Got you choked up doll?” You rolled your eyes. You were about to tell him off before the door rang indicating that someone has entered the store. You snapped out of the haze and immediately got up to quickly realize that the person who entered was one of the regional managers, oh fuck. You nearly froze in fear and kicked Toya under the counter. “Ow the fuck was that for?” He looked at you while soothing the kick you just gave him but upon looking at your panicked expression and frenzied body, he quickly crushed the blunt and shoved it back inside the pocket of his jacket. He didn’t need to be told or explained which you greatly appreciated at the moment. Toya was always able to read the room, bless his soul. He clumsily got back up to which you had fixed his crooked hat and whispered into his ear to tuck his shirt in while covering him slightly to do so.

“Hi-ya hello, good afternoon, I mean good evening sir.” You embarrassedly stumbled over your words to which Toya snickered at. You kicked him again harder this time as discreetly as you could. On the verge of a panic attack. He gripped tightly at the counter, smiling at the man in front of you both. Hissing silently at the pain your kick caused him. He gave you a quick side eye nodding his head in disapproval. Which somehow made you feel drastically worse. 

“Good evening to you both, I’m sure you know who I am.” 

You responded a bit too hastily looking like a rabid chihuahua. “Yes! Yea. Of course we do, how are you? What brings you in at this time? It’s so late.” You manage to say within 2.0 seconds, the automatic robotic customer service attitude overtaking your body. Well- at least trying to considering you just had a 30-minute smoke sesh under the counter and your mind is  desperately trying to sober up. Honestly, what the fuck was he doing here at this time? This has never happened and I mean out of all the hours of the day. Oh yea, you’re definitely getting fucked, the smell of weed was so pungent, it was literally embarrassing how bad the situation looks. You wanted to cry. Toya’s eyes were stained red and you only assumed yours look worse. 

“Gotten a few complaints about this store recently. Wanted to come in and take a look.” You began to get a cold sweat, oh shit he knows, he definitely knows. You had words lodged in your throat that couldn’t come out. What could you say? What can you say? You’re in the wrong here. Everyone knows that smoking weed with your cool and kinda hot coworker under the counter is definitely not ok. Maybe even illegal, oh god what if this gets on your record. You’ll definitely not be able to get a professional job, then you’ll really get stuck working a even shitter job than this. Oh good oh god oh my god. 

As if sensing the absolute panic and anxiety off of you, Toya gently caressed your arm motioning you to relax and to stay silent. You recognized the wave that washed over him and instantly knew he’d handle the situation, he always does. And if you could die in his arms right now, you’d accept your fate happily. Toya was an interesting man oh right, you always believed he held such potential to do great things and even change the world. It doesn’t make sense really considering you both work at a basic job but you had come to secretly admire the guy. You’d would tell him too, how you believed in him, how you had so much confidence for him to become something great but he would always shut it down and brush it off like it was nothing.  It was as if he didn’t think he was good enough. It always bugged you that he thought so little of himself, but seeing him now causally and confidently bullshit the regional manager out of your current situation just simply reminded you of how special he was to you. Definitely got your pussy wet and made you eternally grateful too.

Toya was standing in front of the counter, making hand gestures while the manager just stared analyzing his words. You were completely z0ned out, only able to get parts of the conversation. 

“We’ve been having this customer appear at the store over and over again around this time of night harassing me and Y/N. We’ve considered calling the cops since he’s always high off his mind, we’ve caught him smoking in the bathroom on multiple occasions too. He was in here about 15 minutes ago and we haven’t been able to get rid of the smell.” 

Ah the beautiful lies that slipped through Toya’s lips sounded like a symphony. It was nothing short of comedic and yet so fucking Oscar-worthy. You could definitely pay this man to tell you lies he with how effortlessly convincing he was. You couldn’t even care to listen to what the manager was responding with, but on his way out he waved at you wishing you a goodnight and you sighed out with relief. 

Toya turns to you clasping his hands together “well there’s gonna be a security guard here for the next two weeks.” You laughed “I guess that’s better than getting fired huh.” 

“I’m not sure about that,” he chuckled. “I texted Shigs to come and take over the rest of our shift.” 

You looked at him confused, “how come? Either way, do you think he’ll be ok alone here?”

Toya slipped his phone into his pocket and walked back to you “yea he doesn’t give a fuck. Besides you look pale fucking white, guess this guy sobered your ass up real quick.” 

You attempted to glare angrily at him but it came off as a soft puppy look. You had no energy nor the strength to pretend. It feels like you just got whiplash from the rollercoaster you were on. Figured it was no use in lying considering you looked like you just went through it. “Yea, I still feel high as shit, I just wanna go home already, only thing this guy gave me was a fat fucking headache.” 

He ruffled the top of your head, “awe poor baby,” he said in a teasing tone, he inched up right beside you, “I got something that can help with that.” You jokingly pushed him off you, tying to ignore the warm feeling pooling under your stomach. Your mind was definitely thinking something dirty with a million miles per second and with how he handled today’s situation you’d be more than willing to give him whatever he pleased, but you pretended to cast aside those intrusive thoughts and act unfazed. “Shit don’t tell me you got Advil on you too?” 

He chuckled lightly nodding is head down, “got something even better doll.” He scoots up next to you and grabs a bottle of excedrin underneath the counter, passing it to you. You excitedly open it taking two pills out “oh my god I didn’t know we had some underneath here, yes thank you. You're definitely my hero today Toya.” As if y’all didn’t work in a convenience store that had if not all types of medicines. It was the effort that made it special though, it’s what brought that bright goofy smile of yours to light.  

You weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks while you swallowed the two pills. “Yea I remember you telling me you get headaches n shit and I know this medicine helps with it.” He was scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He never really handles compliments well but you tippy toed over to him and wrapped your arms softly around his neck. “I appreciate it Toya, that was really thoughtful. Thank you.” 

If you didn’t see his previous blush you definitely noticed this one, which in turn lead you to blush. But you couldn’t miss this opportunity- “AWE is lil Toya blushing. So cute brings me back to my middle school days.” That caused a loud laugh to come out of you both. “Shut it.” he quickly and quietly said. 

“Am I interrupting something.” You and Toya quickly untangled from each other trying to play off the slight tension in the air. 

“Errrr um.. Hey Shiggy, thanks for uh coming in.” You awkwardly stumbled, you never really got along with him so there was always this weird loud silence between the both of you. He already seemed to be annoyed, per usual.  The sloppy blue hair all tangled looking greasy and his patchy skin looking irritated and flaky as usual. He definitely was not amused or happy to be here. Well when was her ever. You’ve yet to seen the man smile. 

“Whatever.” He takes a sip from his metal bottle and walks over to the counter. 

“Shiggy you the man, thanks for pulling up bud.” Toya pats him in the back and Shigaraki shuttered. “Don’t touch me,” he flatly said. He glared at you both. 

“You guys can go leave and fuck now.” The words caught you instantly by surprise and you got completely red. “That’s not what were gonn- ugh whatever like it matters.” With that, you and Toya clock out and leave the store with Shigaraki sending daggers at your back.

“He’s always acting like such a bitch.” You annoyingly complained. 

Toya puts his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him “he ain’t so bad when you get to know him.” 

“I guess.” You rolled your eyes, you didn’t really care. You were more relieved to have finally left. He can rot in the store by himself for all you care. Not you or Toga would miss him. 

“So,” Toya glided with his words, itching you closer to him. He was leading the way in this position with you happily following. Not knowing the destination but feeling completely at peace with his form completely snug at your side. You comfortably wrapped your arm around his waist and gently placed your head in the crook of his neck. This was nice you thought, you and Toya were always this intimate when alone. No hesitation or awkwardness, just simply holding hands and sharing body heat as friends with the underlying passion waiting to burst and to be acknowledged. But nothing ever felt rushed, not with Toya. You stared at him from this angle, taking in his beautiful effortless features. His lashes looked so long as you stared in slight jealousy, his hair a perfect black mess with hidden red roots if you stared long enough, and his eyes. Man, you could write poems and sing songs with how the eyes stirred up some emotion you can't quite pin down. Always causing an eruption of feelings you can barely control. 

You felt the warmth from his breath when he spoke, “wanna go to back to my place and finish that blunt? Would love nothing more than to see the world’s most beautiful girl on my bed.” 

You blushed and nodded looking at those piercing blue eyes once again “well, when you look at me like that I guess I can’t say no.” 

Maybe this time you would finally show Toya just how special he really is to you. 

[fandomscombine]

Heartbreak Woman [Cho/Cedric Ending]

Warning: Angst! Brokenhearted!Reader

WC:1454

I proposed 3 varying endings and the response was across the board so I decided why the heck not write ALL 3 choices!

a/n: I haven't been active on tumblr this past month. Motivation to read & write wasn't really there. Feelin pretty crap. I don't think it's my best work- I actually wrote this ending last month but delay posting it since I promised to post all 3 endings back to back- but with the recent burnout, my progress is slow. Proofread it and push the insecurities & anxieties away and here we are. Love was put into this, I hope you enjoy it! Don't worry, the other 2 endings are on the way.

I tried posting this 9 times now and it keeps saying error. this is me testing it with mobile so formatting is hard but I hope it posts

BG: You were hoping that your best friend, Cedric to ask you to the Yule Ball. Instead you were roped into helping him ask Cho out. It broke your heart, but at least this way while helping him out you could pretend that he was doing all the sweet things to you. On the other side of the picture, Harry was too heartbroken upon learning that Cho is going out with Cedric.

Read the main story before it diverges ending here!

>>>Heartbreak Woman [Main]

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

 

Did Harry Potter really just ask you out and you said yes?

Touching your forehead, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but there is still a slight sting to it from the collision with Harry’s broom. Yes. That definitely happened. You thought to yourself, this isn’t some delusion from the injury.

 This is good. This is good. Hyping yourself up. You enjoy his company and that should be enough to stop your thoughts from going about a certain Hufflepuff boy. The same boy you had abruptly left alone in the greens. It’s not his fault nor it is Cho’s for wanting to date each other. You have nothing against them, they are both such lovely and kind people and not to mention popular- it was only a matter of time that they got together, Hogwarts’ Power Couple.

No, it’s just you and your stupid feelings falling for your best friend and agreeing to help with the courtship.

‘Y/n? Hii.” The voice reels you back to reality.

You blinked. “Cho! Hi!” Greeting her loudly had been taken by surprise. You dial down your volume. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s actually what you did, really… I just wanted to say thank you.”

You were confused, why was she thanking you?

“For helping Cedric I mean” She clarified. “He mentioned that you helped him with the picnic idea. It was very sweet. It was what made me finally say yes.”

“That’s awesome.” You force yourself to smile. “I’m glad you guys are together, I can finally get that git to stop bothering me with date ideas. That’s 3 weeks of my life I’m not getting back!” There was some truth to that statement, now that she and Cedric are together you don’t have to go through the pain of practice dates with Cedric.

“You y/n are the absolute wingwoman! Legend material!” Cho praised. “You're like my fairy godmother!” She continues, wrapping you into an embrace.

“yayyyy….That’s me…” You mumble into her luscious hair. Grateful that Cho couldn’t see your face.  Pulling apart, you don’t let her go quite yet. With hands on her shoulder, you stare unwavering. “Just don’t break his heart yea? He’s really smitten by you, promise you won’t hurt him.”

Cho is taken aback a bit, your words clearly coming from a strong emotional bond with the boy.  Thoughts of love, Eros, passed through her mind but brushed it away - It can’t be y/n help them get together. Y/n’s words must come from Philia love, y/n and Cedric had been best friends since before they could talk! Everyone knows that. They have a soul connection that can’t be replicated.  “I promise.”

~

14th February.

Valentine’s Day.

This holiday sucks.

No, not for the reason that you’re single. Nah.

Today is a downer as you won’t be able to do your annual tradition.

See every since 3rd year you and Cedric would be in a pink ensemble outfit complete with red heart sunglasses. Spreading chants of self love and showering fellow single students and professors with compliments. This all started out when your roommates teased you for not having a date for Valentine’s day.  When Cedric had heard about it, he went all out. The boy basically made sure that every single person knew how wonderful, beautiful and intelligent you are.

It was this day onwards that 2 things happened.

Complementing and advocating for self love, Philautia, in a pink get up became an annual Valentine’s tradition. (Even a couple of students joined the cause, expanding from you just both into an association/group of sorts.)

 You started to see Cedric in a new light. In other words, you were falling in love with your best friend.

Scanning the Great Hall for pink cladded pupils, you were glad that the group had saved you a seat however a certain Hufflepuff was out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you cleared your head. Get it together y/n. Today is about sharing love and do NOT think about Cedric and Cho going on a romantic date in Hogsmeade.

You were about to take a step forward when-

“Argh!” Shutting your eyes as the hall spun around.

“Relaxx!! Relax! It’s just me.”

Feet back on solid ground, you turned towards the perpetrator, the one boy you did not want to see right now. “What the fuck Ced! Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry…” Cedric raises his arms in surrender. “Is everything alright?”

“Yea everything’s fine.”

Cedric raises a brow. You forget that this boy can see through your bullshit.

“Only had a couple hours of sleep, that’s all.” It wasn’t a lie, in fact you’d only gotten 3 hours of rest last night, it was just the case of omitting that his upcoming date with Cho was the reason for your restlessness. You don’t want to blame it on jealousy, but it is.

Grabbing hold of your hand, he pulls you towards the group. "Alright then, I've got some spare sleeping potion if you need."

You wave to your fellow singles as you sit down."uh..thanks Ced." You couldn't stop vocalizing your confusion as to why Cedric is still right next to you. Normally you wouldn't complain, but today was Valentine's Day.

"Ouch y/n!" Cedric sassed, eyes focused on piling food onto his plate." Just because I have a girlfriend now doesn't mean I would disappear on my best girl."

My best girl. It hurts to be called that in another context than you wanted.

"Don't you have a date with Cho today?"

"Yea but Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop  doesn't open until 11am. Which gives me time for our annual Valentine's tradition!"

"But you're taken."

"Yes….but I could still help spreading the love!" Cedric glanced around. "No one minds that I come to join you right?"

A murmur of Nos filled your eyes.

"Haha! See I told you!" Cedric brags, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Looks at you straight in the eyes, those gorgeous grey irises melting away your defenses."You can't get rid of me that easily." He whispers, loud enough only for you to hear. You could feel the heat filling up your face due to his closeness. Too busy lost in the rapid beats of your heart, you failed to notice his face getting even closer.

A softness like cotton grazes your cheek.

Cedric kissed you!

Your mind is close to being short circuited. The area of where Cedric's lips were a nanosecond ago is cold as ice. The cold contrasted with your now burning hot, blushing face.

You could live in this forever. All external environments quiet, blocked out of focus. Cedric's arms around you while the butterflies in your stomach bursts out, occupying your whole body with sheer giddiness from having his lips on you.

But the daydream breaks.

"Hey Love! You ready?"

"Morning!" He greets, kissing her. "Uh…" It's only 9:34am. You nod, silently telling him that it was okay to miss your annual tradition. You weren't expecting any quality time today, yet he managed even if it was just for breakfast. "Yea.. give me 10 minutes to go change and I'll pick you up at the courtyard?"

"Sounds great. Be quick cause I miss you already!"

"Sure will sweetheart." He pecks her lips again then waves goodbye to the table and he's off, running.

The tension changes once Cedric is gone.

"Can I talk to you outside y/n?"

"uh yeah" Once outside. "What's up?" Trying to sound casual. Cho inviting you to speak privately isn't usual-seeing that you were the couple's go to accomplice for surprises.

"I see the way you look at him."

"I'm sorry?"

"I know.you like him. y/n. I know you like Cedric."

"Cho.. you can't be serious, he's my best friend!"

"I wasn't sure then.but just now..the way you act around him. the way you look at him. y/n is undeniable. It’s  so obvious-I had assumptions then but everyone just brushes it off as your childhood friend with each other. heck even both of you say that."

"Cho…."

"I didn't bring this up before because I felt insecure, jealous even that I can't live up to the standard of relationship you and Cedric have.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There were too many revelations bombarding you all at once, that you are having trouble processing what is going on.

“But I am tired of what ifs and worrying.” Voice quivering, she continues. “You've got to tell him, y/n."

The words snap you back into place.

"Cho… I can't. I can't ruin your relationship."

If you love someone and they love someone else, you let them go.

~

Everything Taglist :@gruffle1

HP Taglist:@onlyfreds

Heartbreak woman Tagist:

@joalinbenefits @the-natureofme @romanoffs-heart @justmesadgirl @plumso @gleefulleve @wolf-phoenix-lover @ceofcedric @savvy7392 @cedricsfluffyhair @thewayilookatbacon @LIONLIKEWOLFLIKE @mellifluous-cosmos

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Four

“Dang it!” I bellow eight days later, as my body gives way and topples over, having used too great of force to yank a now dead primrose from the ground.

Yesterday morning I had come outside to discover the yellow evening primroses, the flowers Peeta had planted upon his arrival back in Twelve, had all but died.

And I didn’t even notice. I’ve been so distracted with everything else going on in my life—namely Peeta and his blonde companion—that I entirely forgot about the flowers. The flowers that my sister was named for. The flowers meant to represent her when she was no longer alive to represent herself.

The idea that I could forget the plant, that I let myself lag on the simple duty of keeping them alive and watered and healthy, felt as if I had let my little sister down all over again. It felt as if I’d failed Prim a second time.

And it’s more than I can handle. I can’t even endure the thought. The very implication that I am, in any way, dishonoring my sister’s memory is entirely unbearable. Even if it is just me implying it, inside my head.

But in any case, it looks like the primroses are too far gone and I don’t have even a chance at resurrecting them back to life. I took too long to notice their wilting, I was too caught up in other things, that I let the plants die and now there’s no going back.

For a split second I consider returning one of my mother’s many calls to ask for gardening advice. She has always had a green thumb and been able to grow whatever she set her mind to. I never had any of those skills. I was a hunter by nature, not a nurturer.

No, that was Prim. The soft and gentle one, who loved animals, who could heal any wound she could identify, who could garden and grow herbs just as well as our mother.

And I miss her so much. I miss my little sister so very much that I almost breakdown into tears right then and there, right in front of the dead primrose bush outside my house.

“Katniss?” I hear someone call in the distance. I recognize the voice instantly.

And rapidly get up and make a beeline towards my front door.

Unfortunately he’s determined to catch me. After eight solid days of evasion, Peeta is dead set on catching me at any given opportunity before him.

It’s almost funny how once upon a time it was him who wished to avoid me. It was him who craved distance between us, who acted icy and detached at every encounter, whether forced or by chance.

Now it’s him trying to force an encounter between us, trying desperately to make up for hurting me, trying to still be a part of my life, even after I pronounced our relationship finished.

The bread he left on my doorstep—that I immediately tossed in the garbage—is proof of that. The cheesebuns he left on my counter who met their demise to a flock of birds on my back porch is proof of that. The cookies he baked and passed through Greasy Sae when I went to trade at the new, rebuilt Hob is glaring proof of his efforts.

I did actually eat those but I made sure to do it in private, where Peeta would never know if his token was accepted or not.

Because I don’t want him to think we’re okay. I don’t want Peeta to believe me and him can still be friends, with Bailey Robyn, the uptight, controlling blonde still lingering over his every move.

Okay, maybe I’m being a bit overdramatic. Bailey isn’t residing over Peeta’s every action. She probably doesn’t even know he’s made all these treats for me. And she surely wasn’t sitting by his side in the corner of Greasy Sae’s booth when our eyes briefly met before I stubbornly stormed out.

But I feel like she is. I feel her presence overcast in every one of Peeta’s actions, in every deed he partakes in, in every moment I run into him. Maybe it’s only inside my head but it’s enough reason for me to avoid Peeta. It’s enough reason that I wish to stand by my words eight days ago and cut him directly out of my life. With a chainsaw if necessary, I wish to cut the invisible cord that has tied me and him together for so long now.

“Katniss!” Peeta calls again, his arms grasping my waist just in time to prevent my escape into the house.

“Go away,” I mutter under my breath, ire and ache still seeping off me even after a week separating this moment here with our last interaction.

“Why are you upset?” He asks, a little breathless now from the race to my front door. But even tired, concern still manages to leak into his tone. His blue eyes still show anxiety for my well-being.

And it’s still not enough to thaw me.

“You know why,” I say rigidly, pulling my front door open and shoving his hands away from me.

“No, no, I mean,” he quickly tries to correct his question. “I meant, what’s happened out here that has you upset?”

I audibly huff, my eyes about as warm as a popsicle in a snowstorm. The last thing I want to do is stand here and recount just about anything to Peeta, especially in regards to the way I’m currently feeling.

Especially after the last time we spoke about our feelings, when I chose to let him in and allowed him to see the vulnerable parts of me that I never trust anyone with.

Only for him to turn around and side with Bailey over me.

But knowing how persistent Peeta can be when properly determined—his intensity to train like a Career, Brutus’ murder and him warning District Thirteen about Snow’s incoming attack all fly to the top of that list—I merely gesture widely to my backyard, where the dead flowers lie.

It only takes Peeta a moment to click it all together, to his credit. Though I’m hesitant to even offer him that right now.

“I’ll replant them,” he instantly offers, like a dog begging to fetch his owner a carcass bone.

“Don’t bother,” I say, about as rude and uninviting as humanly possible. “It’s not your responsibility.”

I’m just stepping into the house when Peeta’s hand shoves on the door, hard enough to keep it open. For a split second, I contemplate putting all my strength behind it and slamming his fingers in the door. But even as mad as I am—even as wounded as I am—I won’t physically harm Peeta.

After all, he already lost his leg once about I tied it in a tourniquet. I may have saved his life but I also cost him half a limb and that thought alone stops me from nearly taking his fingers off too.

“Katniss, I want to,” he pleads and his eyes are so big and blue and I feel my heart involuntarily melt a bit upon at the sight. “I want to replant them.”

I release an unconscious breath, for the first time in over a week not completely hostile towards the boy with the bread, who in my eyes, completely turned his back on me. Or so it feels. “I’ll just end up killing them again, Peeta. I’m serious. Don’t even bother.”

“Then I’ll tend to them,” Peeta throws out, getting more and more desperate the more I refuse, it seems.

I’m about to brush off his offer once again when another voice joins us. “Oh, let him do it, sweetheart. The boy needs a hobby besides baking,” Haymitch chimes in, standing at the bottom of my porch, looking drunk as ever.

“You love that baking is his only hobby,” I shoot back at the paunchy, old man.

“Well, not anymore. Since you two started fighting he’s been making me fat. I need a break.”

I’m about to come back with another comment, probably one to suggest Haymitch doesn’t have to eat everything Peeta brings, when we’re joined by a third presence.

Of course, she has to join us. Bailey can’t seem to let Peeta go anywhere without her nowadays.

“What’s going on?” She murmurs, looking around at all our tense body language. Well, at mine and Peeta’s tense body language. Haymitch is currently sitting on the bottom step of my porch now, as relaxed as Buttercup is in the window.

Peeta opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it again, glancing back at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to discuss his offer to help me with his girlfriend or if it’s the fact that he clearly knows I dislike the notion of Bailey in my business, but either way I’m a little pleased when he closes his mouth and adverts eye contact away from the blonde.

Instead it’s my drunken mentor who elaborates. “The girl’s flowers died. Your boyfriend just wants to replant them.”

To my utter astonishment, Bailey seems amendable to the idea. “The flowers for your sister?” She inquires, looking right at me. I shoot her a quizzical—and perhaps slightly unfriendly—look out of the corner of my eye but she continues on anyway. “Peeta, you should help her plant them again. Especially since you let them die-“

But I’ve heard enough from her—and everyone else here, for that matter—and I turn to Peeta, my hand still holding the doorknob tightly, ready to slam it shut. “Fine,” I cave, my tone anything but grateful. “Go ahead and replant the primroses. If that’s going to help you, then go for it.”

I don’t wait to hear a response from any of the parties now camped out on my property. Instead I shove Peeta’s fingers off my door—first time I’ve touched him in eight days—and throw it shut with such a force I feel the walls in my entryway shake.

“She’s always been a spitfire,” I hear Haymitch mumble as three sets of footsteps make their way further from my porch.

I barely catch Peeta’s response. If I hadn’t been standing by the door, unintentionally listening to hear what they may be saying, I would have missed it altogether.

“That’s the best thing about her.”

/

It’s just mere hours later before I’m disturbed once again. This time not by a crew of three but by one solo intruder.

“Sweetheart?” Haymitch barks, evidently not too keen on the fact that I decided to turn every light in my house off after returning home from the Hob.

“Go away,” I mumble out, knowing well and clear that he can’t hear me from upstairs. I’m in my bedroom, lying in the safety of my own bed, in my own private sanctuary, where I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone at any cost.

Of course, it only takes a few minutes of bumping into things and cursing for Haymitch to track me down. “Girl, it’s six at night?” He says incredulously.

“So?” I snap, as he turns my light on, effectively blinding me.

“Did you just forget about dinner tonight?” He asks, his voice neither kind nor hostile. In all honesty, he just sounds puzzled.

“Why are you in my room, Haymitch?” I murmur, rubbing my eyes until they adjust to the beaming brightness and pulling myself upwards now. Off his dismissive glance, I let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Of course, we’re not really talking about me skipping a meal. I highly doubt Haymitch truly cares if I miss dinner by my own accord. He surely wasn’t too interested in my meal intake when he brought me home from the Capitol and dropped me off on my doorstep.

No, we’re referring to the weekly dinners me, Peeta and Haymitch have at the old man’s pig sty. The same dinners I’ve brought Delly along to, that Haymitch is constantly passing out drunk during, that Bailey has been crashing nonstop since arriving here in Twelve.

When I came home from trading at the Hob tonight, I decided I was done with those dinners. I don’t need to subject myself to bossy Bailey any longer, and my resolve to keep Peeta out of my life as much as humanly possible is still strong. Despite the fact that I agreed to let him plant the primroses in my garden again and tend to their growth, I still don’t wish for us to be friends. I still don’t want to subject myself any further to him and Bailey’s exhibits.

And I figured no one would mind my absence anyways. At least not for a few dinners. I knew eventually Haymitch would try to push me to come back and Peeta would probably ask me very sweetly to join again, but I didn’t think the first night I skipped would be a huge production.

And okay, maybe there is a small part of me who deep down hopes if I refuse to come, Bailey may be disinvited in order to make me feel welcome again. It’s a long shot and not one I’d consciously admit to counting on, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small, minuscule part of me wishing for that to happen just the same.

Haymitch glances at me suspiciously now. “You’re always hungry, kid.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most enthusiastic eater I know.”

Okay, he is blatantly confused apparently. His drunken goggles are blurring his perspective of reality, it would seem.

In any case, I flop backwards on my bed and roll away, hoping if I ignore my mentor long enough he’ll just evaporate into thin air.

But for some reason, Haymitch is weirdly dogged tonight. “Come on,” he urges, shaking my shoulder a bit too roughly. “I know the boy always says you’re just like me, but this little display is over the top, Katniss.”

I roll my eyes. “Why do you even want me at those dinners, Haymitch? You have Peeta and Bailey there.” I can’t stop myself from throwing the extra emphasis on Bailey, as immature as it may be.

However, the old man isn’t interested in dignifying me with a response. “And Delly. And Johanna. And Annie Cresta.”

That catches me completely off-guard. “What?”

In the time since the war ended and I returned to Twelve—or rather, was exiled to Twelve—no one from the other districts have visited. I have barely seen anyone I know in the last few months, outside Haymitch, Peeta and Delly.

“Some of which are anxious to see you at dinner,” he adds, gesturing for me to get up.

I shoot him a mordant glance. “Johanna’s anxious to see me?”

“I said some. Meaning Delly and Annie,” he clarifies. Off my still hesitant expression, he reaches down and tugs on my wrist, trying to get me out of bed.

“Fine!” I exclaim, feeling strangely embarrassed now as I realize that our roles are suddenly being reversed. I’m the one who always forced him out of bed, who made him come to meals, who fought with him to hurry up and get moving.

In the end, I don’t bother cleaning myself up or trying to appear presentable. Johanna and Annie won’t care and Peeta doesn’t get to care anymore.

And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if Effie Trinket or my entire prep team were here, I’d never stand a chance of looking anything but plain next to Bailey.

It’s not that I care that she’s so blatantly pretty. It’s just that her looks are one more thing about her presence to be bothered by, and that list is getting long and extensive. Even after her apparent approval of Peeta gardening my primroses, even after no negative interactions in eight days, I still sense hostility with her. And I still can’t stare at her without feeling my stomach churn.

Because every time she’s around, I know I’m about to be the odd one out. For whatever reason, outside of Delly, the people I care for, hold a deep affinity for Bailey Robyn.

And it bothers me above anything I can express. It bothers me beyond words, beyond measure, beyond any sense of feeling.

“Look who I found,” Haymitch announces as we enter through the threshold of his filthy residence.

“Katniss!” Annie exclaims and tosses her arms around my neck, despite the fact that we’ve never been too close. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation in person. The only true communication between me and Annie is the letters she sends, the ones filled with details of her life in Four and Finnick’s son. The ones I rarely respond to, but always read just the same.

Still, despite the fact that Annie might as well be a glorified stranger to me, I return the embrace, instinctively at first and then, simply because I want to. Because no one besides Peeta has given me any sort of affection in months and I miss it. Now that Peeta has put conditions on our relationship, I am hungry for any physical touch at all.

It shocks me to realize, in that moment, just how completely starved I am, for closeness.

I hug Annie for far longer than I think anyone watching anticipated but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to welcome it too.

Then again, her husband died and left her with seemingly no family at all to help raise their baby. So perhaps she’s just as desperate for a human touch—I suppose besides her son—as I am.

I don’t receive the same welcome from Johanna, unsurprisingly, but as soon as me and Annie break apart, she shoots me a satirical glance and pulls on a piece of my hair.

“Ow!” I exclaim, my thick brows furrowing in confusion. “What was that for?”

“It was sticking up,” she explains with a shrug and then smirks. “Did you just roll out of bed and come here?”

“Did you?” Her outfit is just denim pants and a low cut t-shirt. Not that different from my attire.

“Yes. And I’m not ashamed of it.” She runs a hand over her hair which has grown out to about length with her shoulders. “But I know how to use a hairbrush, at least.”

I roll my eyes as she nudges me. “This is dinner,” Haymitch deadpans as he makes his way to the table. “Not a Capitol Beauty Contest.”

Jo examines the unwashed table as we follow the grumpy man’s lead. As of right now, the table is completely void of substance. “Doesn’t dinner imply food?” She asks and Annie laughs lightly, suggesting she was thinking along the same lines.

“Haymitch doesn’t believe in cooking himself,” I retort, earning a look from the old man. “He’s waiting for Peeta to arrive with food.”

“You’re more than welcome to provide the meal, sweetheart.”

“And what are you providing?”

“The residence the meal is served at.”

“And what a residence it is!” Exclaims a completely different voice, a higher pitched soprano.

And like clockwork, three blonde heads round the corner of the dining room, abruptly joining the party.

Delly looks as enthusiastic to be walking with Peeta and Bailey as I am to be in their company right now. Which she further evidences by hurrying to the seat at my right.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a grin,” Haymitch remarks as he pulls out a bottle of white liquor and pours it into a half-clean glass.

“Wonder why that is,” I murmur out loud before thinking better of it. After all, Haymitch seems to care for Bailey more than me nowadays. I should probably not stir the pot before the food is even presented before me.

But he doesn’t reply back. Even if he did, I doubt I’d notice anyway.

Because, in the flash of a second, the attention of the room is completely shifted.

I knew Bailey was coming with Peeta. She’s practically glued to his hip at all times of day, almost as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. But it would seem that Haymitch did not inform Johanna or Annie about Peeta’s new relationship, effectively catching them both by surprise at the additional dinner guest.

And there’s little room for doubt to anyone with eyes that they’re together. Their hands are practically singed as one, in an airtight grasp, her manicured nails intertwined with his long fingers.

For a split second I wonder if that’s what my hand looked like inside Peeta’s last week. I wonder if this is what Bailey saw before her, when she caught us roaming through town at the crack of dawn.

“Barley?” Johanna says in a shocked voice.

It takes a moment for her comment to compute in my brain. “Bailey,” I correct, trying to be helpful. Though I’m unsure where she even managed to get the name Barley at all. Especially if Haymitch didn’t warn her about the girl Peeta was bringing and I strongly suspect he didn’t.

Jo looks at me like I’m insane for the amendment before turning back to Bailey and Peeta. “You’re dating Bailey Barley?” She say incredulously.

Bailey Barley? Is that a nickname? Now I’m the one who’s completely lost at sea, feeling like there was a good chunk of time I somehow missed.

Bailey’s blue eyes stare into Jo’s now, not exactly friendly but not as belligerent as I’ve seen her before. As I saw her last week.

I don’t know nor do I understand what they’re silently communicating, but I do comprehend one thing without a doubt.

Johanna knows Bailey. Somehow, someway, Johanna knows Bailey even more than I do.

Peeta doesn’t seem too confused though. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the exchange at all. Instead he drops Bailey’s hand—not soon enough, in my opinion—and moves to set some kind of meat and potato meal down on the table.

“Where did you get the meat?” I ask abruptly, recognizing it as deer. I just shot my first in a long time only the other day. How on Earth did Peeta get deer meat around the same time I did.

“I traded a cake for it. At the Hob,” he explains nonchalantly, avoiding my bewildered eyes now.

I just stare at him for a second, debating on even further commenting.

The Hob is where I traded the deer after killing it. Peeta literally baked a cake and traded it for meat, just because I wouldn’t speak to him.

He literally traded a cake so I could eat the meat that I hunted myself.

Something about that scenario vindicates me slightly. And I have to wonder if I’ve become sadistic with time and solitude.

My attention though is pulled back to Johanna and Bailey now. “What’re you doing in Twelve?”

Bailey takes her seat, between Haymitch and Peeta, with grace. “Peeta and I met in the Capitol,” she states simply. “I decided to come here and spend some more time with him. Get to know him a little better.”

As if to punctuate her words, she places one dainty hand on top of Peeta’s and gives it a squeeze.

I can’t even fight my eye roll.

“I see,” Jo murmurs, casting a sideway glance at me, none too subtle. “Well, it looks like you did... that.”

Delly snickers into her water glass and I don’t miss the way Bailey shoots her an irritated glance. Peeta seemingly does though. Haymitch is already too tipsy to care if an actual fight breaks out among us, his white liquor kicking in quick.

Annie on the other hand, who I’ve always believed to often be oblivious to all those around her, decidedly cuts the tension here. “Well, I’m hungry. Peeta, pass me a plate.”

And just like that, we’re having one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had to endure.

Read More On AO3

[kageruna]

☆.｡.:* Kenma, Oikawa, and Tendou comforting their s/o .｡.:*☆

Warnings: Stress (school stress), anxiety, and friendship struggles (this one directly relates to me so I’m sorry if you can’t enjoy it TwT)

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Reader: Gender neutral

A/n: I’ve been going through some stuff regarding school, friendship, etc. and wrote out these headcanons to make myself feel better TwT. If you’re going through something like this, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you want to talk about it!! I would love to help anyone who’s in need feel at least a little bit better <3

Kozume Kenma

➷ this week has been a really rough week in school

➷ and when i say really rough week, i mean really rough week

➷ you’ve been getting tons more homework than you usually get and there’s been a lot more projects and in-class essays that you had to work on/study for

➷ by the end of the week, you’re basically ready to sleep for 18 hours straight and not care about school or homework for a month

➷ it’s been really stressful

➷ a certain someone, however, noticed what you were going through and saw how much you’ve been struggling

➷ yes, his name is kozume kenma and he is your lovely boyfriend

➷ he’s in a different class/level as you so he didn’t get the assignments you had and received less work than you did that week

➷ every time you guys met up either before school, during lunch, or after school, he noticed the bags under your eyes and the look of absolute exhaustion in your eyes

➷ he felt terrible because he wanted to take that stressed look off of your face but no matter what he did, you seemed to still be struggling a lot

➷ so on friday after school, he organized a little stress-relieving hang out without you knowing

➷ you guys usually went to your own houses to change out of your school uniform and drop off your school bags before going to each other’s houses so you first went back to your own house before going to kenma’s

➷ he first made it seem like you guys were just going to hang out and cuddle or something but to your surprise, when you walked into his house, there were bowls of your favorite snacks and a faint smell of your favorite scented candle wafting through his home

➷ you widened your eyes when you first walked in and the little anxious smile on kenma’s face was ADORABLE

➷ you immediately hugged him and though he was shocked, he immediately wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly

➷ “i know you’ve been really stressed out lately so i wanted you to relax today and to let go of it all”

➷ you damn near cried because you really didn’t think your game-loving introverted boyfriend would do something this caring for you

➷ he led you to the sofa where there were a bunch of blankets and snacks laid out in front of it with the tv pointer already hovering over your favorite show

➷ once you both sat down, he immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest to cuddle while also reaching to grab a blanket to drape it over you two

➷ it was honestly really rare how forward and affectionate he was but he’s doing this all for you and that made your heart positively melt

➷ he started your favorite show and let you settle down with a bowl of your favorite snack in your guys’ laps

➷ this little surprise was just the thing you needed and you can’t believe how absolutely lucky you are to have such a caring boyfriend like kenma <3

Oikawa Tooru

➷ today was,,,, not a great day to put it frankly

➷ you forgot your pencil for the test you had in your first class (you even showed up late to it too!), you accidentally took a book from your own personal stack instead of the needed textbook, you forgot your lunch at home, and you also accidentally got your shoes wet because there was a puddle next to the outdoor water fountain

➷ today was a terrible day

➷ on top of that, your boyfriend kept on getting distracted with different volleyball regimes he was looking at and interrupted your conversation twice because of his fangirls

➷ not even your closest friends could turn your frown upside down

➷ honestly, once school ended, you were ready to just go straight home without talking to anyone and read comfort books and listen to music that calmed you down

➷ however, before you could leave the school campus, oikawa ran up to you to ask if you wanted to hang out and go to the park and have a nice cup of hot chocolate while you’re at it

➷ at first you were confused because didn’t he have volleyball practice?? the same thing that caused him to get distracted from you??

➷ but then you remembered that it was only the first day of the week and his team didn’t have practices on mondays

➷ you first tried to refuse because i mean he was also one of the reasons why you were upset!!

➷ but he kept on whining and begging you to join him for a stroll in the park so you were basically forced to join him he’s so whiny and spoiled oh my god 🙄

➷ little did you know, he actually did notice you were in a bad mood and was actually trying to make you feel better by taking you out on a date

➷ sure, he did get carried away and didn’t necessarily cater to what you might’ve wanted from him but nobody is perfect!! he makes mistakes and isn’t a perfect person all the time too

➷ he wanted to make it up to you and take the other struggles you faced today off of your shoulders

➷ he grabbed your hand and led you to the little cafe next to the park to get yourselves some hot chocolate. he of course paid for you even though you downright refused but hey he’s just trying to make you feel better!!

➷ after you guys got your hot chocolate and headed towards the park, you started feeling a bit better

➷ the hot chocolate was of course warm and absolutely divine but you also noticed how no matter what, oikawa didn’t take his attention off of you and didn’t even talk about the things that annoyed you before like volleyball or his fangirls

➷ he was putting in effort to make you feel better and it warmed your heart 🥺

➷ as you guys walked around the park, he scooched you closer to him so that you guys could snuggle into each other’s warmth

➷ it was really sweet and the cup of hot cocoa made it sweeter <3

➷ when you occasionally looked up to him while having your conversation, he had the softest smile on his face which made you absolutely melt

➷ it felt so nice to have your boyfriend give you the attention you needed and to make you feel better after the hellish day of school and life

➷ and he felt so happy to have such a lovely s/o to spend these simple but sweet moments with and to be able to be there when you needed him <333

Tendou Satori

➷ your friends,,,, yes your fun, loving, and absolutely precious friends

➷ they’ve been with you through thick and thin and you seriously would do anything for them

➷ but if that’s so, why would you feel so hesitant on loving them???

➷ they haven’t done a major thing that would cause you to hate them

➷ all you remember are those little lingering thoughts of anxiety and sadness that are most likely normal in every friendship no matter what

➷ how did it come to the point where you don’t know if you can spend the time and energy loving them as much as you used to???

➷ you’ve been dwelling on this for the past month or so and honestly, it came to the point where your friends along with your boyfriend could tell that something was up with you

➷ whenever they asked, you always responded with a lame excuse and even though sometimes it worked, a lot of the times they still had their doubts

➷ you still tried to act mostly normal with your friends and tried to act like there was nothing wrong with how you viewed them but day by day it was getting harder to come to terms with how you felt and if you really believed you loved them as much as you said you did

➷ it even came to the point where you started distancing yourself from them a little bit to come to terms with how you felt and to give yourself a break

➷ tendou was the most keen of your struggles and tried to read you to see if he could figure out the problem but even if he got it right, you would always deny it and say it was nothing

➷ today, he had enough of your evasive behavior and was determined to get to the bottom of whatever you were feeling

➷ of course he wanted to make you feel better but at the same time, he felt lonely and even started to partially blame your off behavior on himself

➷ i mean how could he not when you acted more hesitant about everything??

➷ the school day went about mostly normal and nothing out of the ordinary happened but while you were hanging out with your friends, tendou was trying to find ways on how to directly confront you

➷ by the end of the school day, he made up his mind and decided to just lead you to his dorm to have a heart to heart without any distractions

➷ so once school ended, tendou immediately told you that he wanted to hang out at his dorm that day and you quickly obliged though you were slightly shocked at how determined he was for such a simple thing

➷ he led you to his dorm and once you both settled into his bed while cuddling, he immediately cut to the chase

➷ “why have you been really hesitant lately? what happened?? did i do something to make you upset somehow?? and don’t try to evade it too, i want the true answer without any sugar coating”

➷ at first, you widened your eyes and took a bit of time to collect your thoughts. tendou waited patiently with his arms still wrapped around you in a comforting embrace

➷ he squeezed you a bit sometimes just to remind you that he was there and that he wouldn’t mind waiting for a long time for your answer

➷ once you gathered your thoughts, you started talking about how you felt about your friends. not the way you would describe them normally but the way you truly felt about them. the weird, lonely, almost heart-breaking feeling you felt since a while ago that you never bothered to mention

➷ he stayed quiet and listened while you vented and explained what you were going through and how you were truly feeling

➷ he slightly chuckled when you hurriedly told him that he wasn’t part of the problem and that he was as perfect as he could possibly be

➷ he squeezed you tightly and kissed the top of your head for that but let you carry on

➷ once you finished talking, there were little streams of tears running down your face with your boyfriend trying to wipe them away and comfort you as best as he could

➷ he didn’t know how exactly to deal with this because he never personally went through something like it but he made sure you knew that he was going to be there with you no matter what and that he would be a safe space whenever you needed someone

➷ his loving words and embrace made you cry harder as you felt a huge weight lift off of your chest once you finally talked about how you were feeling to someone, especially your boyfriend

➷ if he hadn’t been there for you and forced you to talk about how you felt, you truly wouldn’t have known what you would do and if you would eventually break later on

➷ you truly felt like the luckiest person alive with his arms wrapped around your warm body

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading ♡

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch.3

WARNING DECEPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK

I understand seeing others go through this can sometimes cause panic or anxiety attacks in some and with the use of some imagery I've used I'd feel better if I gave a fair warning that there is a detailed panic attack early on.

,,,,,,,,,,

Whoever said eight hours of sleep was the right amount for humans has never met an insomniac who just spent the last six days and five nights awake. You hoped that fucker is in hell burning for his sins, he probably has more of them that you don't know of. But with bleary eyes looking at your phone you can barely make out that it's just a little past six in the morning. This is backed up by the slimmers of light shinning through the blanket you put over the window last night. Briefly the thought of keeping it up today passes through your mind as you try to curl into an even tighter blanket cocoon.

Stretching out your legs and toes you let your muscles melt into mush in the warmth and comfort of your bed. Closing your eyes and burying your head back into the pillow, you might not be able to go to sleep but resting is nice too. You're so relaxed it almost feels as if all your limbs are floating and you feel the buzz of energy come surging back through you, you hum along with it nuzzling into the pillows.

'Your car was broken into.' the thought flashes through your mind and has you jolting up right.

Chest heaving slightly as frantic eyes dance along the room that hasn't changed since the night before. The buzzing energy from just a few moments before turns into an icy feeling flowing in your veins. It chills you to your core and you've noticed the tremors in your arms causing you to tremble. There's a sick feeling that bubbles up your throat, as you feel the phantoms of tens of hands grabbing at your arms and torso. They move erratically all over and their grips are suffocating, there's a lump in your throat that you have trouble swallowing down.

Bringing a hand up to your throat you jab your thumb right above or right at where your larynx would be. The slight pain from the pressure helps ease the lump away and you're able to get out a few frantic breaths. You hardly notice the wetness on your face from the few tears slipping free from your eyes.

'Gross, gross, gross, gross.' is the only message that rings clear in your mind as you're assaulted by these phantom hands.

You're aware this is a panic attack, but it does little to calm you down. Putting more pressure on your throat and using your feet to propel you back into the mattress. Vaguely you're aware that tiring your body out should calm you or maybe it's the release of an emotional fit that calms you, you aren't sure which and you don't really care at the moment. So flailing your legs you let your feet forcefully slip off of their purchase as you push your muscles to their full extent with force. It doesn't take long before you can't feel your limbs and are gasping for breath.

The phantoms are gone, no longer touching you as they please, and while the lump still sits at the bottom of your throat making it hurt to swallow and breathe around you can begin to feel calm. Actually it's the numbness that takes over you, not a sense of calm. The sense of an empty shell broken from its exertion. One thing's for sure you can't take your car today. If you had a panic attack just by thinking of your car you don't want to risk actually getting behind the wheel.

Everything feels tense, the muscles in your legs are starting to ache and you're pretty sure you'll have a bruise at the base of your throat.  You check your phone with shaky hands to see it's now seven twelve. If you get up now and leave you think you can probably make it into town by eight forty giving you time to grab something from the Dunkin' on the corner across from the shop. Or you could call out, Nate would totally understand. But just the thought of being alone today sends a chill down your spine and the feeling of those phantom hands start creeping their way back into your personal space.

“I'm going to work!” jumping up and out of the bed, away from the grubby grabby specters.

Running around the room you throw on a pair of black shorts, unusual for you to wear at work but if you're walking you'll have to deal, sweaty jeans are uncomfortable and joggers aren't very cohesive to a work environment. Deciding on a binder made from a breathable swimsuit material for the same reason, sweaty bra is too uncomfortable and bra-less isn't really something you're comfortable with. Grabbing the first shirt you find, it's a black tee with the words “The only man for me is Mothman” printed on it surrounded by little white stars and a chibi lil mothamn.

Looking at your outfit altogether cheers you up. It's casual but cute, not to mention these shorts do a lot for your thighs and butt. But, there's no time to dwell on how handsome you are, you need to grab food and get out the door like ten minutes ago! Grabbing a mask printed with the word 'No' dead center and your headphones you leave your room. With the thought of grabbing Dunkin' before work you settle on a Pedialyte Pop to hold you over during your walk, nausea shouldn't hit you right away anyway. Checking your door was locked, thrice, you started your trek to town.

Most people would complain about having to walk or hike while wearing a mask, often times saying it was hard to breathe under the fabric. But you'd say they just didn't have the right size mask for their face shape. You'd run into a few masks that hadn't been the right shape or size throughout the years but you're thankful that your first three had been perfect. Had they been too big or small you probably wouldn't have fallen in love with wearing masks, they were so comfy and let you interact with people without your voice getting stuck in your throat.

You'd taken to wearing them after high school when you'd taken a job of watching an elderly hospice patient's corgi while her family worked on moving to Virginia and closer to her. Anytime you and little Russel went to visit her you'd had to wear a mask, so instead of wearing the disposables you'd bought a set of three reusable ones.

After noting the change in behavior she mentioned your Autism, she'd been a retired social worker and saw the signs when she met you and after spending nearly 40 hours a week together for half a year she was certain you somehow fell through the cracks. It was a shock to you when she threw out the off handed comment but after stating who your pediatrician was, she was sent into a fit of laughter.

“Anya is a dear and a great surgeon, but I think the cultural barrier has stopped her from diagnosing children for years.” she had said all the while wheezing through the oxygen mask, eyes crinkling in amusement.

She'd sat you down with a list of books to look into and written out all your symptoms, she said if you ever wanted to get tested having the list of symptoms would be more helpful than straight up asking for a diagnosis. Some doctors were too by the book back in the 40s so Autism has rarely been studied in depth. Only in the last decade or so has a movement gained momentum to spread not only a wider awareness of the disorder but also acceptance for it. But to a doctor it would seem like you were grasping for attention at least to anyone who spent less time with you than she had. But without at least six thousand dollars to spend on a piece of paper that confirms what you already know you'll just have to stick to coping by using methods you read about from forums and blogs made by people with Autism rather than their parents or someone who's “very close” to them. And like Mary Anne said before she died, “just because you don't have a diagnosis doesn't mean your symptoms aren't there.”. A statment that reassures you from time to time, when you think you must be faking it for attention. And that somehow you managed to fake tics your whole life.

Snapping out of your memories because you could hardly tell your mask was on, and has been for the past forty minutes or so since you'd finished your pop. It wasn't too hot at the moment and like the previous day Kepler's climate has no humidity whatsoever, a huge change from the coast. Checking the time again on your phone you see the clear white numbers stating boldly that it is eight o' nine. You don't feel any closer to town but figure that's normal when all you've seen is the old over grown road. You feel you should have seen the road leading to town by now,  you hope you see it soon or else you'd really over estimated how long it would take to get to town, then you'd be hella late and sweaty. With the way you still had signal to the spotify you doubt you've even made it far enough to reach the dead zone.

Sighing you look down as you walk hoping to maybe find a rock to kick, walking's really boring when there's nothing to explore and you're on a time crunch. A loud honk takes you out of your head and you startle looking up. Doesn't take more than a second before you see a car stopped in the middle of the road in front of you. It's well taken care of for sure but not necessarily new or anything, you don't know too much about cars other than it looks like a black Camry no wait that's the Hyundai symbol. Some type of sedan then.

The back window on your side of the car rolls down and a man leans out and calls to you, you don't hear him at first. Slipping your headphones down to hang around your neck he repeats himself, “Do ya need a ride?” He has a southern accent on the thicker side, not abnormal for West Virginia but you can tell it's not the same dialect, probably from further down. The man has blonde hair styled in that fluffy swooped faux hawk that a lot of gamers had back in 2017/2018. He's got slight thin stubble along his jaw, not quiet five o'clock shadow so he probably has trouble growing facial hair. His eyes are that hazel color everyone wishes they could have, the kinda that had the orangish yellow glow about them. He looks like a fuck boy.

You're nearly ready to point at your mask in an indication of 'no I don't know you creep' when you catch sight of the driver. A boy around your age maybe who looks apathetic, that's not what catches your eye everyone looses the will to live at some point. What draws your attention is the mask he's wearing on his face. He could potentially be like you, or maybe he's just sick and being considerate, or he could have allergies. Whatever the case may be you can't honestly be considering getting into a car with two random men just because one wears a face mask. Hell for all you know they've orchestrated this situation, they could've been watching you analyzing your every move to know that breaking into your car would send you into a state of panic where you wouldn't use your car the next day or two, then you'd be out in the open to kidnap on your walk to town where you couldn't call for help due to being in the dead zone. Why else would they be this far along the old dirt road?

“Ah...miss?” the southern drawl brings you out of your inner ramblings, and the words cause you to bristle.

“I'm not a woman.” you say calmly but firmly.

“Oh, ah sorry sir.” you can't help but huff a laugh at the quick apology, your eyes catch movement through the window. Oh they have a dog with them, a rottweiler at that. Cool kidnappers with a dog, who's wearing a vest how...wait dog in vest oh he must be a service dog. Cool not kidnappers then, just strangers, nice. Seemingly trans allys, slight common ground with the driver, and a service dog it might be safe to engage...or at least humor these men.

“It's fine, I'm They/Them for the record.” You say approaching the car, you make your way to the man leaning out of the window, somehow the presence of a service dog puts you more at ease, especially when the dog only spares you a single glance before his attention's back on the driver, who's not even pretending to pay attention to the two of you. His leg is bouncing up and down, it's not rhythmic and no one's paying attention even as it shakes the car. Probably has ADHD, your dad does that all the time when he's at a stop light, it's a subconscious movement he even does it in waiting rooms or anywhere where he has to sit still really.

“Oh, well sorry 'bout that Mx.” the man in the window stresses the “Mx” but not in the typical fuck boy way, more like he was reinforcing it to himself. “We just saw you walkin' and wanted to see if ya' needed a ride anywhere.” he says.

“If you're going to town, I'd appreciate one, but I wouldn't want to be a bother.” his smile brightens at this but you notice it doesn't reach his eyes, probably just being polite.

“Sure thing, hop on in.” He moves to slide back but you've already opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. Effectively snapping the driver out of whatever haze he was in to look at you, he looks back at his friend with confusion.

“Hi” you say to the driver who gives his own wary 'hey' in response as you buckle yourself in. The driver looked even more apathetic up close, dark eye bags under his eyes that were such a deep brown you couldn't see his pupil he also had that fluffy brown e-boy hair. Not the frizzy hair marketing itself as fluffy but the type that's genuinely fluffy looking forming soft waves in his hair.

If they are kidnappers they're really bad at it, especially if all you have to do to stun them is sit up front in a seat that has the second most control in the car and can escape quicker if the need arises. However, glancing back at the dog you notice his attention's still on the driver, it would be really dumb if a kidnapper brought their service dog with them to do a kidnapping so you're reassured that it's just two southern boys driving through Kepler. And they happened to spot a “damsel” in distress, so they came to the rescue.

“Oh, don't mind Connor he won't bother you. He's here for Toby right now.” The man in the back says and you see the man beside you grip the steering wheel tighter. You nod in response and feel a tickle at the base of your skull, you'll try holding back the tic to not freak the two out.

Just as “Toby” is about to put the car in drive, a bark is heard from the back seat. A frustrated sigh leaves Toby as his hand leaves the gear shift, scowl clear even on his masked face. You guess Toby needs Connor to let him know when he's safe to drive, it's rude to ask about these things but you can't help but guess why that'd be the case.

Another bark leaves Connor right as your head snaps to the right moving back to place, then right, right, up, and right before cracking violently.

“There we go.” you verbalize.

Toby's looking at you in what you can only guess is shock, not the worst reaction you've had to your tics, meanwhile you notice Brian's looking to Connor who's looking directly at you now. Then his head whips around to Toby and he barks, like clockwork Toby's shoulders jerk forwards and his hands jolt up. Connor looks back at you and gives a bark, your head jerks three times cracking your neck two of those times. Connor's gaze is still on you and you know he'll be in an ongoing ping pong game between you and Toby if you keep triggering each other's tics the entire drive, if you'd even be able to get to that point.

“I'm fine, thank you.” you said looking at Connor while holding the sides of your head, trying to as your friend Emonie once said 'keep the bobble head away'.

Thankfully Connor must have had a training course similar to ones you've helped with because he looks away from you and focuses on Toby, who he gives several barks to. Following those barks Toby pops his knuckles and makes a 'mrrwo' sound, sort of imitating a cat, before his head jerks sharply into his knee that jerked up at the same time. You cringe at the sight knowing that must have hurt, hands still firmly pushing your head you see Connor settle down in the back, still on alert but laying down as if to say the muscle spasms have passed. You won't risk removing your hands, you still need a ride into town and this whole situation's put you behind to where you won't make it if you walk now.

“pfft...” you look back to the blonde and he looks ready to burst with laughter from what he just watched. Heat creeping up your face you turn and look away, sure the situation's funny but you don't know these two men and honestly you just feel so embarrassed right now. Especially with last night's incident at the mini mart still fresh in your memory.

“Will you fucking shut up!” Toby barks out, and the blonde tries harder to suppress his laughing fit. Toby glares at his friend before turning his attention back to the road, hand on the gear shift he waits for an alert before putting the car in drive and doing a U-turn back to town.

It's been a while since you've been a passenger in a car, you actually get to take the time to relax and enjoy the passing scenery as Toby drives. He's a surprisingly good driver, most guys his age are speed demons and always want to see how fast they can get away with driving. Toby on the other hand is abiding by the limit even on this open stretch of road with no other cars. But you guess it comes with the territory of needing a service dog to be able to drive, have to abide by the rules. The drive's quiet, you take it as a good thing that the men aren't trying to question or get to know you. If they were kidnappers or up to something nefarious surely they'd be trying to distract you right now with endless chatter to let your guard down. Especially if they'd been watching you and knew what a total chattering encyclopedia you could be when given the right topic. You're gazing out into the window seeing the sign of the town get closer finally when the thought hits you.

“So, your name's Toby, is it short for Tobias?” turning to look at the man, he spares a single side glance with his furrowed brows before responding with an uneasy 'Yea'.

“Cool, sorry if that was a weird question. Tobias is like the best name I've ever heard but I've only met three Tobiases, including you. Could I call you Tobias or do you prefer Toby?”

“I don't really care.” gotta love apathy.

“Cool, cool. Thanks for the ride Tobias!” you chirp out.

“Hey, forgetin' that I'm the one who offered the ride?” The man in the backseat speaks up.

“No, you just never gave me your name. You said Connor's” and ear twitch is all you get such a good boy, “and you said Tobias'. Never mentioned your own.”

“It's Brian, sugar.” you were correct, this man is a fuck boy.

“Yikes, that's gross.”that was a reflex and it was now Toby's turn to laugh at his friend. The man didn't even hide his snickers even had his shoulders bouncing up and down, you think you even caught a mumbled “I won't hesitate bitch”. Meanwhile Brian sat stunned, guess he was used to people finding his nicknames more endearing, meaning he probably meant nothing by it and it was probably the southern accent but it just made you think of the senior men who'd hit on you back before you moved out here.

“Yea don't call me 'sugar', anyway, I'm YN, it's nice to meet you three.”  Toby just nods as his laughter dies down a clucking sound resonates from his throat, Brian however goes right back to his friendly persona with a 'good to meet ya.' Again it's slightly off, it doesn't feel like he's trying to be polite...it feels like...you can't put your finger on it but it's familiar. Like when you fake a conversation with Nate or your mother on the days where exhaustion is nearly killing you, but Brian doesn't seem tired or sluggish.

The rest of the drive is relatively quiet as you direct Toby how to maneuver the streets and he parks in the parking lot of Dunkin'. While you were getting out you'd asked the men if you could get them anything from Dunkin' as a thank you for driving you. Brian tried to decline but Toby spoke over him with what “they” wanted.

“Ok cool, can Connor have a pup cup?” unsure if service dogs could have treats while working.

Sparing a glance to the good boy in question Toby shrugged “Yea, he's due for a break any-anyway.” he ends with popping his knuckles. You assume Connor only alerts motor tics when Toby is driving or about to start driving, since that tic didn't get clocked.

You repeat the order to the cashier once inside. You also get a frozen caramel coffee and an iced caramel coffee for you and Nate along with a box of donuts to pick from for the day. When she hands you everything you're able to balance Toby's order on top of your box and your drinks in the other hand. Walking out with the help of the next man coming in, nodding thanks as you pass him, you see Toby leaning against his car with Connor sitting next to him, no vest on.

It's terrifying how well trained Connor is, because the dog you left in the car barely paid you any mind. While this hyper pup's tail is wagging at just the sight of you, his paws lifting slightly in a tiny dance as you get closer. But he doesn't dare move from his sit, looking up at Toby for cues and looking at you who holds his treat.  Had you not worn a mask for so long you may have missed the smile Toby gave Connor as he pat the dog's head. The slight crinkles around the edges were a dead give away though. With a quick snap Connor is released from whatever command he'd been held by and runs up to you once you're five feet from them.

Drooling mouth opening and closing in an odd mute bark for a dog this size. You take note of the fact that while he's jumping excitedly and pawing the air he hasn't laid a single paw on you. Whoever trained him knew what they were doing that's for sure. Looking up to Toby you hold the one hand outstretched for him to take his items, a tray with Connor's pup cup and his iced coffee, and a white baggie with three donuts, strawberry glazed, maple glazed, and an apple fritter.

Once he's taken his items you balance your drinks on top of the box. Connor's attention hasn't moved from you even through the exchange. You're a little confused by the pup's antics but he probably thinks he can get a donut off you.

“Sorry bubbie, your dad's got your treat not me.” that dopey little face tilts to the left not understanding you aren't the treat giver at this time. You laugh letting him smell the hand that had the coffee in it so maybe he'd understand you didn't have his treat. He excitedly sniffs you, and gives you a few licks before sitting back right in front of you with a blur of a tail behind him. Such a silly boy, he deserves some chin scritches.

“He's smart, told him you'd give 'im this.” Toby says holding out the pup cup to you, as you bend at an awkward angle balancing food in one hand while scratching his dog with the other.

Connor's a little disappointed when his pets stop but jumps to all fours when he sees the pup cup. His tail is wagging so fast you'd be afraid his butt will fall off, if that was a thing that could happen. You go to put the cup in front of him but Toby stops you.

“Hold on, Connor sit.” As soon as his name was called his bottom was on the ground. “You already know his release word so when you want him to take it just say the release.” He says offhandedly while placing the bag in the passengers seat and his drink in the cup holder. You can hear murmured arguing from inside the car, but choose to ignore it. These guys clearly aren't kidnappers, and if they were it's so stupid to kidnap you in broad day light after you just made a purchase and with literally a street in between you and your work, where your boss is waiting for you.

Placing the cup in front of Connor you didn't think it was possible for him to get any more excited but his tail is now undetectable by the human eye. He looks from his treat to you, back, and back to you. Toby said you already knew the release, and there's only one thing you've said to Connor throughout the trip.

“Thank you.” it's immediate, for such a well mannered service dog on and off duty this pup has no table manners. There is whip cream everywhere it's on the ground, his paws, even behind his head. How on earth did he manage that? This must be Connor's only character flaw because Toby is back with what you can only assume are all the napkins he had received in the donut bag, and service vest under his arm.

Once the pup cup was utterly decimated Connor sat happily, butt wiggling, as his dad wiped the rest of the whip cream off of him. Showing the pup the huge glob he had behind his ear only had him licking it off the napkin before licking his dad's face.

“Wrong.” Toby called, a little bummed the pup calmed down a bit but his tail was still going. Toby paused before he slipped the vest back on Connor. Head jerking back twice he looked over to you.

“You wanna say 'bye'?” you perked at the question, if you had a tail of your own it'd probably be wagging just as fast as Connor's.

Do you want to pet a dog, what kind of question was that? Of course you fucking do. Yea you might be late to work but petting a dog is always worth it. Setting your breakfast and coffee on the hood of the car you bent down with Toby to Connor's level.

If that dog could talk he'd tell everyone you gave the best ear scratches, sure you may have smooshed his wrinkly face a ton. But you were so nice and was that baby coos, ah he loves you new best friend. Connor jumped up when you started cooing and gave you a ton of kisses to the face. You couldn't stop laughing and the repetitive motion triggered a tic. Thankfully your mask was on so Toby couldn't see you tongue poke out repeatedly as you said “bleh” in between giggles.

“Wrong.” he says gently pushing the drooling pup away. Shaking the spit off his hand before scratching the pup under the chin, right where the bottom of his ear met his jaw. The pup instantly melted calming into his handlers touch. With his dog now calm he whistles and Connor is standing up straight, Toby slips the vest over his head and secures it. Connor the puppy has turned back into Connor the good boy working pup.

Grabbing your stuff from the hood of the car you turn to Toby and Connor, “Thanks again for the ride, and for letting me pet your dog.”

You're met with a simple shrug, not much phases Toby you've noticed. Aside from his tics that is.

“See ya later Tobias!” with that you're on your way to cross the street legally, and by that you totally jay walked out into traffic in front of the sheriff. You may have jay walked in front of the sheriff, but he didn't do anything so you're fine.

[whump-town]

Moments Too Late

In honor of spending too much time on my own Universities quad because of the nice weather (which is promptly going to shit because it’s going to be cold again Monday) and because of @olivinesea college AU I give you...

The false promises of March lure them from the comforts of their dorms. Each morning now a little warmer, the sun beaming down forgiving and loving as it’s not the quiet time for it to swelter down great beams of heat that melts clothes off the skin off muscles off bones. Today it heats the ground, enough to encourage them out of their shoes to feel the still slightly chilled nature of the not yet up to pace earth beneath their toes.

Derek laughs deeply, unabashedly as he chases Spencer along the grass. Seemingly all the more pleased the louder he can get the younger boy to screech in terror as Derek pins his thin arms in contorted positions as they wrestle. The only mediation, the only warnings they get, comes when JJ looks up from her textbook. More often to tuck strands of hair behind her ears than to break from her reading. “Don’t hurt him, Derek,” she warns. Not because she’s afraid he will but to continue these halves of theirs. Where she stands to allow Spencer this idea that she will step in if need be.

“The winter,” Emily says softly. “I think the winter depresses him.” She’s laid out on the jacket Dave spread out on the ground before them. He’d given a little “hmph” of disapproval but not altogether displeasure when she laid herself out on it. Her legs break out in rashes and the shorts she’d chosen to wear leave her too exposed to rest comfortably in it.

Dave rests back on his elbows, chest lifted to take in all the rays of the sun that he can. He cracks open his left eye, scowling over at her as he processes what she’s just said. The raised eyebrow of doubt -- of further need for contemplation and clarification on the generally just vague statement she’s just made -- goes unnoticed as she watches Aaron. Dave’s eyes follow suit and while he might not understand the full complexity of what it is that she means, he might be able to gather what she sees.

“Winter depression?” he whispers. There’s no way that Aaron could be anything but… well, Aaron. By definition, that means dark and spirally with a complexity not a single soul, at least Dave suspects, knows him in his entirety. They are all bound by bits and pieces, half-truths that they have put together like children and those little cheap boxes that are covered half-hazardously in Elmer’s glue and macaroni shells.

Aaron lays out on his back, eyes closed and more relaxed than they’ve ever seen him. Shoulders sinking into the ground and limbs open. His ankles set aligned with his hips and shoulders. Palms up, a sunflower turned to face the warmth. He can feel the heat crawling up his body, nearly too warm with the sweater on his arms and the jeans that don’t quite fit the length of his legs. Softly, he clears his throat doesn’t even bother cracking an eye open as he says, “the word the two of you are looking for is seasonal and I’m not, nor have I ever been, depressed.”

Though Dave shoots Emily a look that says it all -- leave resting snakes to lie, don’t poke a bear you’re not ready to kill -- she sits up and observes him further. Letting his head thud against the dirt, Dave lets her poke that hornet’s nest knowing he’ll be the one to soothe Aaron’s buzzing anxiety and pull the stingers from Emily’s skin.

“You locked yourself in your room for two weeks,” she reminds him. As if she wasn’t the dead girl in the freshmen dormitory wrapped around a toilet and sent to the emergency room where they know her by name. Where they take turns picking her up in the lobby, waving to the doctor’s as she signs out against their advice with her arm still bleeding where she pulled too harshly, too angrily at the IV snaked under her flesh. Who is she to point fingers at his oddity? At least he can go a weekend without visiting the bottle.

The two weeks in question were from hell. He’d been with them Tuesday, present in a way that they reflected on as oddly so. They also thought he’d killed himself, a theory started by JJ too good to pass up so their application might be flawed. For two weeks, there was nothing but radio silence from him. His dorm was empty and they couldn’t even find him in the library, a place they more often than not have to drag him from.  He didn’t show up until Thursday, so he was actually gone for sixteen-days, and looked like maybe he had died and dragged his corpse all the way back to them.

Not yet adults and very much the children raised by their parent’s hips, how could they not think in the extremes that they have known their entire lives? Too young to know the complexities of the life ahead of them but too damaged to ignore it. JJ knows what her sister did and Derek could feel his father’s blood hardening on his hands, could understand and see what JJ was telling them.

One. Talking about wanting to die or to kill oneself; Eyes closed and back sinking further and further into the blankets behind him. Nearly unaware of how close they all are, of the hand on his knee or the shoulder on his hip. “It would be nice… I think,” he whispers. “No stress. No obligations. Like sleeping.” He doesn’t sleep well.

Two. Talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose; The warmth of his eyes has frozen over, the helpless desperation that he feels bubbling over. The carefully orchestrated faux look he’s spent years building burns at his feet. Leaving behind the broken child that he is at his core, searching for something that makes sense. For a father that loves him and a mother that protects him. “It doesn’t matter what I do,” he rasps. “Nothing matters because all I do is fuck everything up.”

Three. Sleeping too little or too much; He pulls from the hand that JJ gently reaches out with, flinching. “I -- I just don’t sleep well,” he defends, avoiding her eyes when she tries to look harder. To really see how pale he’s become. “It’s just -- just insomnia.” Nightmares are what he means but twenty-year-olds shouldn’t have that kind of horror built up into them so he lies. It’s easier that way.

Three strikes. You’re out but… they just couldn’t find a body. Dave had told them about how old dogs will drag themselves away from their homes to die and Spencer had cried for hours after that. Maybe that seemed a little too on the nose, Aaron being compared to an old beaten dog. They yelled at Dave out of fear but knew he was right.

Then Aaron just showed up to campus Thursday, a lump of human underneath his comforter as if he’d been there the entire time.

“We couldn’t find you for two weeks, Aaron. That’s -- That’s crazy, even for you.”

JJ looks up from her textbook, sees Dave, and looks back down. She’s certain that they’re about to have to deal with one of Emily and Aaron’s nuclear fallouts.  With hindsight, she can see how that’s been festering up. Every semester they have one of these martial spats, bad enough to leave Spencer (who loves nothing more than to be one of their shadows) afraid to be left alone with either for a few days. Rightfully so, Aaron gets a little dark and Emily never pulls her punches, it’s a scary thing to witness.

“My father died.” The group freezes for a moment. Spencer and Derek’s wrestling had died down, both watching Aaron and Emily. He’s sitting up now, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “My father died and it wasn’t any of your business.” Emily opens her mouth but he’s shaking, having opened something not so easily contained. He doesn’t know how to put it all back. “Sean called, what was I to do, Emily? Would you prefer I tell a scared nine-year-old to fuck off?”

He wanted to. Despite how scared Sean had been, how small he’d sounded sucking in little sobs. Aaron lost his father ten years ago but he couldn’t tell Sean that. He’d gone out of obligation and the strange weighted sense that this might be the last time he truly sees his little brother. And he couldn’t know it yet but it’d be the last time he saw his mother too.

“I wasn’t out mixing my name up with Jack Daniels.”

Well…  it was only a matter of time.

She stands first, fist clenched at her sides. “We’re your friends, we would have been there. You’re just too much of an insufferable bastard to notice!” She seethes good and properly angry. Misplaced but firm. “If you spent half as much time locking yourself away, pretending to be someone you’re not--” She pulls in a deep shuttering breathe. “Everyone knows, you know? All of us. We’ve seen the scars.” She’s not sure if it’s what she wanted but he flinches as though he’s been hit and that’s not enough to stop her. “Do you think we wouldn’t notice the flinching? That we can’t touch you? You’re not as good as you think you are, Aaron, and we’re not stupid.”

Silence.

Emily always knows what to say.

“Ex-Excuse me.”

Penelope comes up just as Aaron’s stumbling to his feet, pale as a ghost and trembling. He nearly runs into her. “What’s--” she’s brought them snacks. Little pieces of fruit she’s painstakingly cut for this little snack. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and mumbles another “excuse me” and tears past her.

Penelope looks hopelessly at them, confused and hurt. She turns, watching Aaron stagger and wipe furiously at his eyes. “What… What did you do?” She looks back and forth, settling on Emily. Penelope watches tears gather in Emily’s eyes, her lower lip trembling.

“Oh God,” she whispers, hands raising to her lips. Emily looks over at Dave and to JJ, Spencer, and Derek still watching in terror. Her own words coming back to her, funneling through moments too late. “Oh God, what did I do?”

[glacecakes]

Hellfire, Dark Fire

Rapunzel pardons Varian from his crimes in the eyes of the law, but not the eyes of the people. The people decide to take action.

Alternate title: I roast Varian at 300 degrees for 30 minutes

The google doc for this is titled Toasty Marshmallow lmao I have. so many jokes for this. I dropped my varian in the fire! He's golden brown! I left the oven on! Just gotta flip him over and wait another ten minutes! Chestnuts on an open pyre! The list goes on. Anyway yea I set Varian on fire enjoy

“Varian of Old Corona, you are here on the following charges.”

This was a familiar scenario.

“Theft of Royal property, blackmail, destruction of Royal property, kidnapping, treason…”

Isn’t there some sort of rule about being tried for the same crimes twice? It felt illegal. He looked over to his right, where the princess gave him an awkward smile.

“Escaping prison, sedition, assault, chemical warfare…”

“Ok I’m pretty sure that’s not a crime you can charge me with.”

Nigel raised an eyebrow from his scroll, standing between the thrones that Varian helped bring down. The throne room was a mess, debris and alchemy remnants clinging to every surface, begging to be taken care of. But there were more pressing matters at this exact moment. Like, deciding what to do with the child responsible for all this.

“The point remains,” Nigel said, rolling up his scroll and slamming into the palm of his hand. “You have a lot to make up for, young man. Half of these crimes warrant the death penalty.” Varian winced at that. Right. Last time Arianna had just barely managed to convince the King not to impale his head on a spike, and while neither ruler actually remembered his crimes, he wouldn’t put it past Nigel to carry out the deed in their place.

“Buuuuuut,” Rapunzel butt in, ever the optimist. “You are sorry for what you did, and you helped us stop the Saporians from destroying Corona!” Her smile felt like a blazing sun, warming him to the core with how it shone in his direction. “And I think it’s fair to say the second round of crimes were more by association than actually carrying them out.”

Varian shook his head. “Actually, I uh, I was the one who thought up the escape plan.”

“Varian.”

“Right, sorry, not helping.” He coughed, trying to hide his red face.

“So,” She said, acting as if the interruption never happened. Her footsteps barely made a sound on plush carpet as she padded up to Nigel and plucked the scroll from his hands. It tore with a satisfying chhhhh . “I think we can toss out these charges. Varian, you are officially pardoned of all crimes towards Corona. You’re free to go home.”

He beamed. Home… he hadn’t actually been home since the battle in Old Corona, and even then, it hadn’t felt like home since the blizzard. Home was with his dad and Ruddiger, sitting by the fireplace and reading while dad finished making dinner. After over a year of being without it… going home sounded like a dream come true.

“Your highness!” Nigel gasped, scandalized, snapping Varian out of his trance. “I can’t in good confidence let you do this!” He pointed to Varian. “That boy is a menace we would be better off without!”

Rapunzel’s eyebrows turned up, distress coloring her features. With the king and queen currently out of commission, she was acting regent, and she did not work well with Nigel, not like the way her father did. “Nigel, that’s a bit harsh. And we need him. He’s going to be working in the castle to try and restore my parent’s memories.”

“And the damage to the castle? The people hurt in the mines?” The advisor pressed, and Varian shrunk with every word. Guilt clawed at his insides, dragging him down to the earth as he lowered his head.

Rapunzel winced. “I-I… he can help rebuild…?” She tried weakly. “I’m not sure what you want from me…”

“He wants me to pay, Rapunzel,” Varian whispered. He didn’t blame the man, not at all. When the Saporians had been in charge, he’d made Nigel’s life a living hell, a petty revenge for how Nigel accused him of attacking Rapunzel. It was no shock to him that while Rapunzel may forgive him, not everyone does. But still… it hurt to have someone talk about you like you’re a monster.

After a moment of glancing back and forth between them, Rapunzel sighed. “I guess that’s fair… Varian, maybe you can come back in a few days to help with castle repairs?”

Of course she’d side with him. Of course she’d let the advisor undermine her authority. A familiar anger was quickly building, but he quickly stomped it down. Getting angry sounded exhausting, and it wasn’t an unreasonable request. It was perfectly fine, he should be grateful she wasn’t burning him at the stake. “That sounds great, princess.”

She led him out of the castle, a warm hand in his. He had yet to buy new gloves after she’d accidentally melted the old ones. “I’m sorry,” She said in a rush. “I know you just want to move on, and I want to too, but-”

“It’s ok, Rapunzel, really. It’s the least I can do.” He offered her a half smile. “Maybe then people won’t hate me so much.”

“People don’t hate you!” She shook her head, gripping his hand a little tighter. Perhaps a little too tight, but he wasn’t going to say anything. “I certainly don’t. How could anyone hate you? You’re like an angry kitten.” Her other hand pinched at his cheek. He laughed, high and bright, and it brought a smile to the princess’s face. It was strange how fast they went from despising one another to a comfortable friendship. But he was starved for positive companionship, and something told him she was too. Judging by how she was doing this sort of thing to everyone, it had something to do with Cassandra’s mysterious absence. Still, he wasn’t going to complain. It felt less like an attempt to rush making up, and more like… picking up where they left off before the blizzard.

It definitely helped that the source of their fighting, the amber, had been dealt with.

“People definitely hate me,” he laughed. It died when he saw how distraught Rapunzel appeared.

“But…” she whispered, clenching a fist over her heart. “You nearly died trying to save Corona. Everyone knows that, right? Right,” She smiled weakly. “Yea, no one hates you, Varian. I pro-” Her voice cut off abruptly. “No one hates you. You have nothing to worry about.” She said with an air of finality. This was not up for debate, how could anyone hate him when the people he most affected didn’t?

“Rapunzel…” Varian sighed. He… wanted to dispute it. To say that no, people definitely hate him, that he didn’t want her to brush it off. But the anxiety in her eyes kept him quiet. He’d just been pardoned, after all… “Ok, if you say so,” he wanted to trust her most of all. Maybe she’d protect him. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Sounds good! Get some rest, you earned it.” With a quick hug, they parted ways with a promise the next reunion would be more positive.

How wrong they would be.

-

“Rapunzel?” Varian called, stepping into the grand foyer. A week had passed, granting Varian the most relaxing staycation in his life. It was just him and his dad and Ruddiger, cleaning up the farm after a year of disuse, making up for lost time. It didn’t feel right to be away from his dad after everything; what if something happened while he was gone? What if the rocks reared their ugly head and destroyed what he didn’t deserve? But then Rapunzel had sent him new clothes and he remembered his promise, so here he was.

A soft breeze pushed him forward, citrus and lavender wafting through clean corridors. His head swerved to and fro, taking it all in, until he bumped into a maid. Freshly cleaned clothes spilled from her hands and onto the floor.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” He rushed, leaning down to help pick up the clothes. “I-I can-”

“Save it.” He lifted his head to a furious face staring down at him. The maid placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t want any help from you.”

So she was one of those types. That was to be expected, of course, yet still it stung. Varian gulped, but slowly leaned back so she could collect what she dropped. “If I were you, I’d turn right around and crawl back to your dad.” She hissed, furiously swiping up clothes.

“I’m supposed to help the princess,” He argued.

“You should be dead for your crimes .”

Varian narrowed his eyes. “Is… is that a threat?”

“What are you gonna do about it?” She taunted. If it was, he’d… he’d… no, he wouldn’t do anything to her. A few months ago, he would’ve threatened her right back, or let Andrew and the other Saporians at her, but now he was powerless. Still a part of his mind longed for justice, for her to beg for his forgiveness. Remnant from his villain stint, he figured.

A heavy sigh forced his shoulders to slump. “Nothing,” he grumbled. With a satisfied “hmph!” The maid stalked off, leaving him alone on the floor.

“Varian?”

He blinked up, meeting the concerned eyes of the princess. “Are you ok? What happened?” She offered a hand which he greedily took. Her warmth pressed into his arm, spiralling down into his chest. It takes some effort, but she’s able to lift him off the floor and set him by her side.

“Uh, well…” He gazed down the hall and bit his lip. “Just someone who wasn’t happy with me.”

For a moment, the princess doesn’t understand, a question hanging off her lips. But it clicked fast and she gasped. “Did she hurt you!?” Nimble fingers brush against his cheek, checking it for bruises.

“No! Not yet at least,” he joked, but it didn’t land well, judging by her face. He coughed. “She just said I should be paying for my crimes. You know, standard death threat.”

“No...” Rapunzel’s eyes fell to the floor. Her toes curled as she bounced in place for a moment. “I doubt she meant anything by it. Or rather, I don’t think she’ll follow through.”

In all honesty, he wasn’t so sure about that. The hatred in her eyes, the way she spat at him… But he wanted to trust Rapunzel. She lived in the castle after all, and she likely knew the maids. Surely if one of them were dangerous she’d know… right?

Then again, she hadn’t predicted Cassandra’s betrayal…

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yup!”

His thoughts vanished when the princess’s warm hand near burned, guiding him down sunlit halls with a shaky smile. If she wasn’t too worried, why should he be?

According to Eugene, it was long past sundown when they stopped for the day.

They hadn’t meant to work for so long, but between Rapunzel’s love of painting and Varian’s love of engineering, it was easy to get lost in their project. The hallway they were rebuilding was nearly finished, and honestly looking a lot better than before the damage. Stars already hung in the sky as the alchemist stepped outside. He took a breath of fresh air, before exhaling loudly.

To think he went a year without it.

Corona was oddly quiet, even for this time of night. All the lights were off, not even a candle shone in a single windowsill. Was there a city blackout? Were people mourning? It wasn’t uncommon for blackout nights, in which everyone turned off the lights and went stargazing, but all the lampposts were lit… so was everyone just… not home? Then where were they?

His question was answered as he approached the main square.

The crowd was massive , nearly five dozen in total, full of faces he did and didn’t recognize. Some were carrying candles and torches, others had spears. They all stood in a circle, and in the center was a massive stake, the base of which was shrouded by wood. How odd, maybe there was a festival going on?

He gently tapped someone’s shoulder, and they jumped. “Hi, excuse me,” Varian said. “What’s going on?”

The figure turned around, torch in hand illuminating their face, and Varian paled.

Nigel.

The advisor’s face morphed into a scowl just at the sight of him. “Ah. So the mutt finally appears.” His voice is booming, catching the attention of all in the square.

Varian backed away slightly, confused. “Who, me? What’s going on?” It was a little insulting to be called a mutt , were they referring to how neither of his parents were born in Corona? That was the only explanation Varian could think of, otherwise it was just a dehumanizing insult… oh.

Oh no.

The torches. The angry expressions. The large spike. It all made sense.

He took a shaky step back, eyes darting to and fro as terror clawed at his throat. It climbed up and up, until it spilled out of his mouth. “Rapunzel…” he whispered. “Rapunzel!” His feet scrambled underneath him, dirt flying while boots struggled for purchase.

He’s only able to make it a few meters before an “Oh no you don’t!” rang through the air, and his path is blocked by a mountain of a man. He couldn’t recognize him, or really anyone else in the dim lighting, but as his feet finally gave out under him, adrenaline went into overdrive, allowing him to skid underneath the man’s legs.

He darted into a nearby alleyway, now grateful for the cover of night and his naturally small figure as he ducked behind a can.

Cries of anger and frustration lingered in the air on top of his heavy breathing. “Split up!” “He couldn’t have gone far!” “We’ve been waiting for this!”

Slowly but surely, the voices finally died down, and Varian let out a shaky sob of relief. Only to hear the scuffling of feet, and then he’s face to face with the maid from before.

For a moment, neither spoke.

“Please,” Varian whispered. “Don’t do this.”

Her face twisted into a cruel grin. “I found him!” She yelled, and Varian let out a wail in protest.

He had to get out of here, he had to get to the castle, find Rapunzel! She’d protect him! She couldn’t possibly know about this, right? Surely she had to see all this from her castle and come out to investigate, right?

She didn’t last time, his traitorous mind whispered. She didn’t save you last time.

“Quiet you,” the maid snapped, teeth barred as she snarled down at him. The wolfish grin only grew as she fished something out of her pocket. “You know, I have a dog at home, I’m sure this’ll work on you, too,” her prize glinted in the moonlight; a muzzle.

“Fitting for a beast, hm?” Varian scrambled back, his spine colliding painfully with the alley’s wall. He held up his arms in a brace, trying desperately to keep her away from his face, but soon the woman was joined by her pack. A man yanked on his arm, sending him pitching forward, only for his face to be grabbed, cheeks squished and held firmly in place. Varian screwed his eyes shut, flailing wildly, but it was no use. With one hand held captive and his center of balance askew, he could only whimper as the muzzle was strapped into place.

No, no no! This couldn’t be happening! Rapunzel said she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him! He flinched, trying in vain to squirm away from the multiple hands moving him, but it was for naught. The hand on his arm was stronger than steel, no matter what Varian did, it wouldn’t budge. The streets were filled with jeers and taunts, screams of anger and hatred. People yanked him around, jolting him with each stumble.

“MONSTER!”

“This is what you get!”

“My father nearly died for you!”

“To hell where he belongs!”

A heavy object slammed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. He sobbed, curling up into a ball to shield himself, the sounds overwhelming and all encompassing.

Suddenly, sharp nails dug into his scalp. They tugged, forcing his head up until he met the eyes of an infuriated Nigel. “Get up, dog,” he snarled, yanking on raven hair so hard fistfuls came tumbling out when he let go. Varian shrieked behind the muzzle, tears spilling over as the pushing and pulling resumed anew, currents of writhing bodies washing him towards the pyre. He grasped the muzzle, fingers dipping into the spaces between bars in an attempt to pry it off, but with only one hand it was easier said than done.

The towering pyre loomed over him, obscuring the moon from view and obscuring Nigel’s face as he stood on the platform. “Varian of Old Corona, you are here on the following charges!”

No. God please, no.

“Theft of Royal property, blackmail, destruction of Royal property, kidnapping, treason…”

He thrashed violently, kicking the man holding him in place over and over, but the man simply hissed and gripped tighter and tighter until the circulation was cut off in that arm.

“Escaping prison, sedition, assault, chemical warfare… and the murder of Quirin of Old Corona.” Varian’s blood ran cold, freezing him in place for a moment. But a moment was all that was needed. His legs fumbled underneath him as the man dragged him up to the pyre. He threw Varian at it, twisting his arm so it was now behind his back. The maid from before grabbed his other arm, pulling it behind along with a rope.

“The sentence is death.” The advisor’s voice cut through him. “You will be burned at the stake until you are dead.”

“Please,” he begged, muffled through the muzzle. “Don’t do this.” He’d paid for his crimes! He spent a year in prison, abused by guards and cellmates alike, groomed into a conspiracy he never wanted any part in, and indoctrinated into a cult that threatened death if you left. Hadn’t he paid enough? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

It's not enough until you endure the same amount of pain and agony I have!

Nigel dropped his torch into the kindling. It lit immediately.

First, Varian smelled it. Cedar and pine wafted into his nose, normally reserved for his home, curled up by his dad as they recounted the events of the day, or, on rare nights, stories about his mother.

Then he heard it. The crackling of logs, the cries of the people slowly drowned out by the roar at his feet. Once his lullaby, or his savior during the worst blizzard of the century, now his undoing, its thunder akin to horse hoofbeats, an army coming to kill him for kidnapping the queen.

Next: heat, oppressive, choking, overwhelming. It caused his eyes to water, only for flames to lick his tears away. They evaporated, steam joining the smoke that rose to the sky, a beacon of his suffering.

Finally, as the fire reaches his feet, pain. He clenched his teeth and turned to the sky, attempting to somehow escape, but the ropes on his wrists kept him grounded. Hopefully they’ll burn before he does, and he could escape…

The pain built, travelling up his legs and climbing higher and higher, until the flames had engulfed him entirely. His tongue was coated in ash, coughing turning to screaming in mere seconds.

“DADDY! PUNZEL! HELP ME!” He shrieked, likely music to the mob’s ears. The smoke entered his open mouth, suffocating him. His lungs were probably turning black, he thought morbidly, wheezing for breath in an attempt to lessen the pain, but with each inhale his vision swam more and more. Black and red were all he could see, no doubt a sign of what was to come when he went to hell…

Yellow…

Yellow interspersed with the red and black, and then suddenly there’s more, and more, until it shone like the sun, completely surrounding him.

It was the last thing he saw before he slumped over.

-

Rapunzel heard it before she saw it.

After bidding Eugene goodnight, she’d begun the nightly routine of brushing out her hair. It took a lot longer without Cass to help, so she spent the hour or so staring out her window. Planning, thinking, watching. Normally she hummed to herself during the process, but not tonight. Tonight, she was deep in thought about a certain alchemist.

He’d been a massive help that day, and even fun to be around. Not that he wasn’t normally fun! Well, when he wasn’t a villain. Which he wasn’t anymore! It was strange to consider him a dear friend, yet it felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. If Varian could be brought back, so could Cass, after all.

Sounds and screams from Corona shocked her back into reality.

It sounded like a large group of people, rather than just one in danger, she noted, eyes scanning the island. Like a moth to a flame, her eyes were pulled to the source fairly quickly. There, in the town square, a bright light. Rapunzel squinted, unable to make out the source at first, but the longer she looked, the more her eyes adjusted, it looked like… a bonfire?

“Wonder what they’re burning,” She mused, holding out her hand as Pascal tossed over her telescope. She peered in, focusing on the center of the fire. Maybe they were cooking? A block party? It made no sense…

The telescope came into focus. And in the center was a young human.

“Is that…”

A spark of blue.

“ VARIAN !”

There was no time to leave the castle properly. Golden hair fell down the tower’s wall, bringing its owner close in a ball for the landing. She didn’t stop to catch her breath, instead barrelling down cobbled roads, following the trail of smoke. Each puff of breath she took was one Varian was without, and it spurred her to run faster.

She thundered into the courtyard with all the fury of a thousand suns, burning just as bright, if not brighter than the crime in front of her. It only intensified when she saw her advisor watching on with a content smile.

“NIGEL!”

The way his smile immediately faded delighted her.

“P-princess…!” He held up his arms placatingly, stepping in front of her as if to hide the pyre currently lighting her friend on fire. “I can explain…!”

“Later,” she growled, pushing him aside. The heat curled her toes, forming a wall normally impenetrable. But she had unbreakable hair, hair that once failed to help Varian, but wouldn’t fail again.

Rapunzel leaped into the fire, hair curling up underneath her feet and preventing burns. Through the smoke and sun, Varian’s slumped form was barely visible. His eyes fluttered weakly, cheeks coated in soot that fell off with each cough.

“Oh Varian…” She breathed, reaching out to grasp at his face, ignoring the pain in her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Golden hair glowed brighter, balling closer and closer as she approached the pyre until it squeezed .

The ball parted to reveal Rapunzel hugging Varian tight. She pulled back, taking in his sorry state, and gasped in horror.

Through shakes her hands made quick work of the ropes, before grasping the muzzle that had burned a mark where it had been pressed. She ripped it off in one, anger-fueled tug. A silent Varian fell into her arms, and she readjusted until he laid against her chest.

The crowd fell silent. In their eyes, their princess, the knight in shining armor, had been the one to defeat the monster once. It was their job to finish it off once and for all, and keep their world safe.

But to her, as she readjusted a small boy in her arms, his breaths weak against her neck, she just saw a sea of monsters.

Like a bolt from the blue, quick as she arrived, the princess vanished, hair trailing behind her as she ran.

-

For Varian, days blurred together, swimming together in a sea of haze of time and random moments.

Blink, an unfamiliar man was rubbing salve over his arm. Blink, Eugene regarded him with sorrowful eyes as he read a book. Blink, Dad yelled at Rapunzel, the words too fuzzy to make out.

Blink. He was alone.

Sun filtered through the window and bathed the world in golden orange as dusk approached once more.

He couldn’t find the strength to do much else besides stare up at the ceiling and take inventory of his body.

Clink, clink, a soft bell chimed, and he rolled his head to see where it was coming from: Rapunzel was carrying a tray of food into the room with a crestfallen expression. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw him awake.

“Varian!” She gasped, nearly dropping the tray as she rushed to his bedside. “You’re awake!”

“Uh… yea…?” He mumbled, confused. “Did I fall asleep while we were working?”

Her face fell.

“Or… oh no, did I hit my head? God, I must’ve seen blood and passed out, or something stupid…” He laughed awkwardly, but each idea only deepened the frown on her face. Her lip wobbled, and suddenly Varian found himself drowning in blonde hair as Rapunzel launched herself at him.

“I’m so so so so sorry!” She sobbed, form shaking. “I should’ve done something about that threat! I should’ve trusted you when you said people hated you! I should’ve… should’ve…” Words trailed off into sobs and she burrowed deeper in his hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok…?” Varian mumbled, bringing up his arms to hug her back, maybe stroke her hair… but…

Only one hand responded.

He pulled back to stare at his hands.

Hand.

Hand.

One of his hands was gone, replaced by a stump.

Fire, fire everywhere, pain and agony and the jeers of others...

When did breathing become so hard?

His uninjured hand gripped his hair and he choked, tears streaming down his face. “I… Rapunzel… He… they… I…”

“It’s ok,” she whispered, wiping away tears of her own. “Let it out. I’m so sorry.”

He threw himself into her lap, shuddering sobs of his own. He almost died. Maybe he did die. He’s missing a hand! He needed those! How was he supposed to do alchemy without it? By some small mercy it was his non dominant hand, but the point remained.

For what seemed like hours he poured his soul into Rapunzel’s lap. The only sounds were his hacked sobs and her soft humming.

Finally, when there were no more tears to cry, he mumbled, “It’s not your fault.” Because it wasn’t. Even if she had taken the threat seriously, what would’ve come from it? Firing the maid? Maybe? It certainly wouldn’t have stopped the angry mob. They had been planning this, no doubt with help from Nigel, the bastard.

“You don't need to comfort me right now. Still,” she hummed. “If you want... If you make a blueprint... we'll pay for you to get a prosthetic. It's the least I can do. Your dad and mine are talking about what to do with Nigel. He’ll be taking you home in a bit, when you’re fully recovered.”

Home sounded nice…

But when he looked up, and he saw his savior, the woman who was wronged by him so, and yet saved his life twice over now…

“I think I’m home right now.”

Her smile was like fresh rain after a forest fire.

[smediumsmeatbae]

Tremble (One Shot)

TITLE: Tremble PAIRING: Chris Evans x Reader  SUMMARY: Chris' anxiety throws him for a loop but you know how to make him feel better WORDS:  2.3 K SONG USED: Oh Baby by LCD Soundsystem WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, light angst (if you squint), SMUT SMUT SMUT (no one under 18, please!) A/N: This is my first for a couple of things. This is my first smut fic, constructive (read CONSTRUCTIVE) criticism is welcome. (Praise is awesome too lol.) And secondly, this is the first fic I've used with a song running through it. I really enjoyed writing this and loved using the song through it. It might be something I do again in the future.  This is also a submission for @jtargaryen18 's 30 Days of Chris. Thanks to her for hosting such a wonderful writing challenge and it's been super fun this whole month.  This is not to be posted anywhere else without my permission. Reblogs/likes/comments loved and encouraged.  Sort of been proofread. Any grammar mistakes are my own.

--------****--------

There was a hush in the air that night as you sipped your glass of bourbon out on the back porch of your Boston home you shared with your husband Chris. He was due home in a few hours and you couldn't wait to see him, so you were trying to distract yourself with your favorite spirit and a book that Scarlett had lent to you. You tried to focus on it, you really did. However, as you re-read the same sentence about five times, that was proving to be a fruitless venture. You let out a small huff of restlessness and placed the book down on the patio table before taking a quick sip of your drink and opened up your phone. Maybe catching up on some work emails could distract you enough. Before you could open up the email app, though, you noticed that you had a message. It was from Chris! You smiled and tapped on the icon to open up the message. 

CHRIS: Just touched down, got an earlier flight. Can’t wait to see you. Tour’s been rough. Should be there in about 20-30 mins. 

Your belly was full of butterflies as you read the message. He was going to be home! His arm around you! In twenty minutes! You tapped on the reply button. 

YOU: Yay! I missed you so much babe. Can't wait to see you too! ❤

It had been so long since Chris had been home. You missed the way he sang 80's pop music when he made pesto eggs in the morning, how the bathroom smelled vaguely of his cologne and soap - one of your favorite smells - after a shower, and how he would tickle you into submission after you had any argument with him. You also missed the way he caged his sculpted arms around your head and stroked your hair gently away from your face as he made love to you. God, how you missed sex with Chris; you craved it. Facetime was great, sure, and it helped temper the desire but it could only do so much. It couldn't give you the heat of his body melting into you or how he held you close, almost protectively, as you came down from your orgasm. You couldn't wait to feel him again and would probably jump him as soon as he got home. 

As if Chris could sense that you were thinking about him, you heard the door unlocking and the sound of keys being tossed on the entryway table as well as suitcases and backpack being set down in the foyer, making a noise on the hardwood floor. You excitedly went towards the noise to see your tired husband standing in the foyer.  

"Baby!" You yelled as you ran towards Chris. You threw your arms around his neck and drew him close to you as you nuzzled your cheek to his shoulder, smelling his cologne and feeling the soft fabric of his shirt on your cheek. He grabbed you back in turn and buried his face into your neck and clung onto you, taking fistfuls of your shirt into his hands. You noticed after a second, that his body was tense. He was also slightly trembling against your body and he was hanging onto you like you were his salvation. 

"Chris?" You asked gently, pulling away your face in concern. "Baby, what's wrong?" 

Oh baby You’re having a bad dream Here in my arms

You cupped his face in your hands. He easily was a head taller than you but in that moment, he seemed so small, like a scared little boy that needed to be protected and loved. His eyes were cloudy and glazed over- he looked like he hadn't slept at all last night. 

You came to me Could all be a bad thing And do you harm

"I'm… I'm ok, just really tired." He gave you a small smile but it wasn't working; you could see something was really bothering him. You knew your husband too well; that, and he was a terrible liar. He started to let you go and go back towards the foyer to grab his stuff and unpack from the press junket. 

"Babe, please. Talk to me. What's really going on?" You folded your arms around your waist and spoke to him, not judging, just wanting to understand and help. 

He slumped down and let out a sigh, stuffing his hands in his pocket. 

"I just… need to decompress for a second. Can we not talk about it for now, please?" His eyes were pleading with you and your heart broke a bit. You wanted to reach out and hold him but instead you nodded and dropped your hands from your waist as if to say you were giving in to his request. 

You run from me Shot in the dark Please wake me For my love lies patiently Please baby please

You had a feeling you knew what was going on. Chris had issues with anxiety and he said earlier the tour was rough, didn't he? How bad had it gotten? He was usually really good about keeping his anxiety in check with some form of meditation and relaxation. What happened? You followed Chris into the living room where he turned on the tv, wanting to get out of his head a bit. Sitting down next to him, you wrapped your legs under you and nestled yourself into his side, letting his arm drape over you. You felt his chest rising and falling, missing so very much this feeling of closeness that you had not had since he left one month ago. One long month. He absentmindedly kissed the top of your head and stroked your shoulder lazily with his thumb. It was like the anxious person that came in from the tour was gone and Chris, your Chris, was back. At least on the surface. You knew that he was trying his best to bury it for the time being until he was able to talk about it. 

You came to me Are you having a bad time? There in your home

"The junket was… A lot." He finally spoke after a long time. "There wasn't really any time for breaks, and they just kept pushing us with more and more and more interviews and meet ups and Q&As and pictures…" You could feel his body tense up the more he talked about it. "It didn't stop. And I did my best to push it down, I made a commitment to be there and I was going to see it through, but man that last day… yesterday. I just couldn't do it anymore. I had a panic attack in between one interview waiting on another and I had to get out of there." There was a hitch in his voice that wasn't there before and you moved from your position to  straddle him and hold him close. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pushed your hands through his nape and massaged it, an act that instantly calmed him down. He let out a breath, seemingly one that he had been holding in for eternity, and wrapped his arms around you, nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck. 

Oh sugar Give in to me You're just having a bad dream

"Shhh, it's ok baby. I've got you." You cooed as you held him close. "Let it all out, I'm here love." 

He gripped onto you and you could feel your tshirt and neck becoming wet with tears as he quietly sobbed into your shoulder. Your big man; your confident, funny, passionate, smart, loving man was shaking in your arms. You cradled his head and rocked him from side to side, wrapping your legs around his torso to feel him closer, closer, closer to you. 

Oh but please Please shake me from my lovesick patient dream Please baby please And my love plays wait and see

He lifted his head up to you, lashes wet with tears and eyes still misty, kissed you softly. His hands unclenched from your shirt and they ran up your back, searching, needing, wanting to hold you. His eyes met yours, wordlessly asking and you nodded, needing to make this better, if only for a short while. You cupped your hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks with the pad of your thumbs and kissed him gently at first, then with more urgency. You opened your mouth and let your tongue explore his bottom lip before he opened his mouth for you to gain access. Tongues danced with each other for a bit, you moaning into his mouth. 

Chris was pulling at your over-sized shirt, and you obliged, lifting your arms up and letting him remove it. It was actually his old shirt, but you wore it, especially when he was out of town, because it smelled like him. With your shirt off, you reached for his as he unclasped your bra. You were so hungry for skin on skin contact, to feel his sculpted upper body next to yours. Soon, you were both bare chest to bare chest, your hands massaging the nape of Chris' neck while you licked and nipped at his collarbone, the fingers of your free hand playing in his chest hair. His hands were on your ass, grinding you up against him. You could feel the prominent bulge beginning to form in his pants and you melted from the sensation, matching his grinds with your own. 

“I missed you so.. Much.” He groaned into your ear as he squeezed your cheeks and buried his face into your breasts, kissing and sucking; marking you as his. 

“Oh, I missed you too baby.” You gasped out as your hands scratched his shoulders and down his back making him hiss. You felt your wetness soak your panties. “I’m here, Chris. I’m all yours, my love.”

You wanted to let him take the lead, take what he wanted from you. There would be time tomorrow for talking and kissing and exploring each other anew all day, but tonight you wanted to make his entire trip melt into a distant memory. You guided your hands down his magnificent pecs and abs to his belt buckle. He adjusted himself so that you could zip his pants down and get his hardness into your hands. You both moaned out when you cupped him into your hands. 

“Need you.” You heard him rasp out, nipping your jaw. You looked into his eyes and they were dark and lust blown. You nodded with a whimper, needing him just as much too, needed the familiar stretch that you had been longing for since he had left a month ago. 

With one arm, he lifted you up with ease, helping you off of the couch while you both got rid of the bottom half of your clothing. Chris eased himself back onto the couch and you had to restrain yourself from just jumping onto him as you straddle back over his waist. You took his head in your hands and crashed into his mouth with passionate kisses, with teeth and tongues and biting lips, fighting out for dominance on who was giving the better kiss. His thick arms were back around your waist and butt. You put your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lifted yourself up and positioned yourself over his manhood. He helped guide you and in one swift move, you felt him inside, stretching you deliciously. You both moaned out, chests heaving at the sensation.

“Oh fuck baby.” Chris groaned as he bit down on your shoulder. “Feel so good… so tight for me.”

You started to move your hips, and Chris put his big hands on either side of your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock. Putting your hands on the back of the couch to steady yourself, you matched him thrust for thrust. Your forehead pressed against his lightly for a second as you kissed him again. He adjusted himself a little bit more on the couch so that he could hit you deeper and you shouted out as he hit your g-spot over and over.

“Oh god, Chris yes! Right there!” panting heavily you sped up your rocking. You were so close to ecstasy, and you could feel from the twitch in his cock as you moaned out his name that he was close too. He matched pace with you and slammed into you with all he had. 

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” His voice was low and intense. He took one hand off of your hip to dip down between your thighs and rub tight circles onto your clit with his thumb. That was all it took and you cried out, your whole body shaking and pulsing as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to you. Feeling your walls grip around him was enough to push Chris over the edge as well and he let go, moaning out your name as his strong hands went up your back and pulled you down to him. 

Oh baby Lean into me There's always a side door Into the dark Into the dark, shh

Once both of your breathing had returned to normal you parted from his embrace and scooted off of him, feeling him slide out of you. You got up from the couch and walked into the bathroom for a wet washcloth to wipe up with. Finishing with that, you nestled down next to his side, running your hands across his naked torso, blissfully loving how his breathing was way more peaceful at that moment then when he came home. He pulled you close to him and dipped down to kiss your lips tenderly.

“Welcome home, Chris.” You sighed and ran your hands through his chest hair.

--------****--------

TAGS:  @angrythingstarlight  

[charming-charlie]

Enjoy The View

Title // Enjoy The View

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // There’s some swearing in this one. Anxiety too because fears.

Summary // Buck helps you get over your fear of heights.

Word Count // 1811

Prompt // "When you close your eyes, do you picture me?" with Evan Buckley pleasee thank you // “Do you trust me?” “Let me hold your hand.” “I’m never letting you go.” with Buck

How did the firehouse manage to be not-so busy at the moment? These were the moments that Buck savored, where he could relax and just be alone in his thoughts. Not that he didn’t mind being around people, he was a very extroverted man, but he did like his alone time often. Chim was taking a nap, Eddie had a doctor’s appointment with Christopher, Hen was talking to Karen on the phone in another room, and Bobby was putting himself to work by cooking some lunch for the crew. Everyone was doing their own thing, minding their own business.

Buck was currently sitting in his happy place. It wasn’t a comfy chair or the break room next to the broken vending machine that spat out more snacks than you paid for. No, his happy place just happened to be on top of the firetruck. It was weird, of course. Not exactly the kind of place a regular person would enjoy, but Buck wasn’t a regular person. Ever since that day, the day where a man was dangling out of an airplane and Buck, along with Eddie, had to ride on top of the truck to save him, the young firefighter just felt like it was the right place for him.

He was able to see everything. He liked having an eagle eye view of the world below him. It allowed him to see things from a different view, a different perspective. And it was there, on top of the firetruck without a care in the world, where he spotted you.

“I thought firefighters were supposed to be in the trucks, not on them?” you ask. He was obviously very surprised to see you just waltzing into the firehouse as you were.

“We have many talents,” Buck retorted. He stood up with a smile as you walked over to the side of the truck. You had to crane your neck to watch him. He was certainly high up, but he seemed so comfortable. It was a huge contrast compared to you, being afraid of heights. You had to mentally prepare yourself to get on a step stool if it came to that.

You and Buck have known each other for a while. Buck, Chim, and Maddie went for lunch one day and by some miracle, you just happened to wait on their table. It was only when another customer started choking, allowing Chim to save the day. Chim took over as a paramedic until the ambulance arrived and Buck was pretty much useless at that point. Instead, Buck struck up a conversation with you, making sure you weren’t overcome with shock and that was that. One thing led to another and you two became fast friends.

Then again, maybe it was because you needed each other. Buck’s only family was Maddie and the people at the firehouse. His job didn’t allow him to socialize much and make friends. You were a bit introverted, opposite of Buck. You didn’t like talking to people and putting yourself out there. In fact, your comfort zone was exactly that – your comfort zone. You didn’t see a reason to leave it.

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked. Not that he wasn’t happy to see you. It’s just that you never really saw his place of work before. Or him in uniform before. And like, holy freaking damn was that man fine in a uniform. Maybe you should swing by his place of employment more often.

“Do you know how to change a tire?” you asked, looking sort of defeated. It was just your luck that something like this would happen, but you were fortunate to be in the same area as the firehouse. At least you wouldn’t have to drive on your flat for very long.

“Like I said, we have many talents,” Buck answered. It took every ounce of strength to not roll your eyes at his stupid remark. Okay so he knows how to change a tire. Why isn’t he moving? Why is he staying perched on the roof of the truck like it’s his throne and the whole goddamn firehouse was his kingdom? Why did he look so good in navy? Why can’t your brain just shut up for a second?

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stay up there?” you folded your arms as you continued looking at him. Your neck was starting to hurt from the weird angle it had to bend in order to see him. You rubbed the back of your neck, looking slightly annoyed. Buck, on the other hand, had a grin on his face and he looked like a little kid. Like just being on top of a firetruck was the highlight of his life.

“I kind of like it up here. Wanna join me?” Buck asked as he looked down at you.

You immediately shook your head, stepping away from the vehicle. Just the very thought of even climbing a ladder was sending a prickly feeling up your spine. You wanted absolutely no part of it.

He wasn’t taking no for an answer though. Shifting to the edge of the truck, directly underneath where you were standing, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at your fear. You thought he was making fun of you, but this was a rational fear. A lot of people were afraid of heights, right?

“Do you trust me?” he asked. He looked so confident from where he stood. Every bone in your body was shaking from anxiety as you nodded. Of course, you trusted him. He’s given you no reason not to. “Let me hold your hand.”

He reached out toward you, an arm outstretched and his hand open, palm ready for the taking. Your feet seemed frozen in place as you stared at his hand. It was within reach. All you had to do was reach out and grab it, and Buck would do the rest. A huge part of you wanted to go up there with him. There was just something about him. He was like a magnet and you found yourself gravitating toward him. Even then, your feet were slowly moving. You tried to stop from walking further, but your body refused to listen. It was further proof of Buck’s magnetizing personality. You wanted to be near him.

Your hand reached up and grabbed his. His fingers tightly wrapped themselves around your own. In an unstable voice, you whispered, “If you let me go, I swear…” You were trying to sound threatening, perhaps a bit menacing, but it wasn’t coming across that way. It was the fear talking.

“I’m never letting you go,” Buck said with a sweet, warm smile.

He pulled you up effortlessly and you shut your eyes tightly. Those few seconds felt like an eternity until your feet were firmly planted on the roof of the vehicle. You felt around, wanting to grab something. A railing, a wall, some sort of stable support that can trick your mind into thinking you are fine and that there’s no edge, like you are boxed in with a barrier. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if you think about it), the only support you could find was Buck, and lord did you cling onto him like a koala on a tree.

You felt Buck’s body shake, and at first you thought he was sympathizing with you until you realized the dumbass was actually laughing. Your eyes were squeezed tight so you couldn’t prove it, but the airy tone of his voice was all the proof you needed.

“When you close your eyes, do you picture me?” he asked and you wanted to hit him but you were afraid you were going to fall backwards and dive off the truck at the slightest of movements, so you kept to yourself and shook your head.

“You will never occupy my thoughts, Buckley.”

“I think I already did.”

He was holding onto both of your arms tightly, and the fun was evaporating. He had his moment and he collected himself while gripping you by the elbows. Your eyes refused to open, even though you felt a little safe. Something about being in his arms was working for you.

“Come on, take a peek. I promise you won’t fall. I’m right here,” Buck said. He was coaxing you slowly. Perhaps he felt your elevated heart rate or feeling every raggedy breath of air leave your lungs as you tried not to think about how high you were.

This was so stupid. You came here because you had a flat tire and now you are on top of a firetruck with Evan Buckley. How did you even get yourself into this mess?

“Open your eyes. Look right at me,” Buck continued to support you through this, and you felt you had no choice but to comply. You couldn’t keep your eyes closed forever, especially not on something as foreign as a heavy piece of machinery. Very slowly your eyes fluttered opened and you were staring right at his pretty face. His warm smile made you feel secure and his arms held you tightly, making you feel comfortable.

“Did I really do this?” you asked. From your tone, it was almost like you were asking yourself that question, but Buck was the one who nodded. There was no mistaking it – he was obviously so damn proud of you for making such a big change.

You refused to look anywhere else except at his face. You were praying to whatever god there was that the fire alarm wouldn’t go off and everyone had to spring into action. Your feet seemed melted to the top of the truck and you were not moving. Not even one tiny little inch. Because of that, a looming thought entered your mind and panic started to rise inside of you.

“How do we get down?” you asked, now looking terrified. Getting up wasn’t as difficult as you thought. Getting down, however? Now that’s an entirely different story.

Yet Buck didn’t seem to mind the question and he looked around as though he could find an answer. When his eyes found yours again, a warm feeling was taking the place of the anxiety that built up. He just had that look about him. There was something calming about him and his presence.

“Let’s worry about that later,” Buck replied, his brow furrowed to show he wasn’t sure how to answer your question.

Great. So first he made you come up here, and now he has no clue how to get you down. Once your feet were on solid ground for sure, you were definitely going to hit him for putting you in this position. For now though, there wasn’t much you can do except enjoy the view.

And by view, of course you mean Evan Buckley’s eyes.

[musingsofsaturn]

Braids

Fandom: Frozen, Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Words: 1,500+

Rating: K

Summary: Three times Kristoff braided Anna’s hair.

Author’s Note: So I’ve been cracking on with my contributions for Kristanna Week (because nothing screams ‘anxiety’ like preparing for a voluntary ship week two months in advance lmao) and found myself rather addicted to writing these two. Please enjoy this oneshot idea that popped into my head as I was plaiting my hair. I hope you like hair-playing fluff, and lots of it.

O N E

“So you take the strand on your left-”

“-on the left,” he whispered softly, probably not even realising he said it.

“And you take that and cross it over the one in the middle, so then that one is the one in the middle.”

“So that one is the one in the middle...” Anna felt Kristoff gently tug the strand into position. He let out a breath that he’d been holding, and she afforded him a supportive smile in the mirror.

“Great. And now, you take the strand that’s on your right-”

“-on the right.” She giggled when he repeated her words again, but she stifled it as a fake cough into her hand, so as not to discourage his efforts.

“And you put that one over the one in the middle, so now that’s the one in the middle.” Again, she felt him gently follow her instructions. “And then you just keep going! So start from the left again-”

“-the left again...”

Anna had always loved the feeling of having someone else style her hair, but this time it was even better. Kristoff had shown a great interest in her braids, and his face had lit up adorably when she offered to teach him how to do it. If she’d realised how pleasant it would be when his fingertips ghosted her scalp, and he gently brushed through the length of her hair, and carefully sculpted the strands into a single plait down her back, she would have offered to teach him sooner.

His touch was gentle, desperate not to cause her any pain. And his movements were so slow, taking so much focus from him to get it right. Anna realised just how much he was concentrating on his new skill when she noticed in the mirror that his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth. The sight made her feel as though her heart was melting.

“I’m at the end - now what?” He sounded mildly panicked, which made Anna chuckle.

“Keep hold of it, hang on,” she instructed, leaning forward to grab a piece of ribbon which she handed to him over her shoulder. “Okay, you should be really good at this part. Just tie this around all the hair, underneath where you’ve braided.”

Kristoff fell completely silent, and Anna could tell from his stillness that he was holding his breath. “Done.” He stepped back, reaching for a hand mirror to show her the back of her head.

The braid was far from perfect - it was uneven, very loosely fastened, and oddly lumpy in places. But it was unmistakabley a braid.

“Kristoff!” Anna cried, feeling herself brimming with pride. “You did great! Keep practising and you’ll be my royal hairstylist in no time!”

They both shared a laugh at the notion as Anna got to her feet, smoothing her skirts. She placed a hand on his chest, leaning upwards to kiss him quickly.

At breakfast, Elsa did raise an eyebrow when she saw her sister’s hairstyle, but she quickly realised why it was so haphazard and couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face.

~

T W O

“These instructions are terrible,” Kristoff frowned, gazing down at the book on Anna’s dressing table for the hundredth time that evening. “They could have at least included pictures for the different steps.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to work it out.”

“I’m serious, all I have to go off is this picture that shows the finished product!”

Anna giggled lightly at his frustration. He always took hairstyling so seriously. Anna understood that this one was for a ball, but it was only a practice attempt, so she thought he really could relax about it a little bit. “You can just make something up if you can’t work it out.”

“I might just have to take you up on that, feistypants.”

As always, Kristoff fell silent as he started to braid. He was much more efficient at it than he used to be, and had even learnt styles from Anna and Elsa to add to his braiding and hairstyling repertoire. Anna in particular was more than happy to oblige his interest. She loved this time they spent together, with Kristoff’s skilled fingers twisting and braiding her hair into increasingly elaborate updos. It was strangely intimate, and she found herself looking forward to when Kristoff would shyly request to style it for her.

“You worked it out, huh?” She relaxed into his touch, delighting at the sensation of his fingers grazing across her neck and scalp as he gathered more hair.

He kept up his work, leaning over her shoulder every so often to check the instructions, occassionally huffing out frustrated whispers about how unclear they were. As ever, he was incredibly gentle, and a smile sprang to Anna’s lips when she looked at him in the mirror and saw that his tongue was poking out again.

“Okay,” he said finally, placing a comb decorated with crystals into the hair at the back of her head. “I think I got it.” As always, he held up the hand mirror for her to see.

Anna was actually impressed. The style had more little braids than she could count, twisted around into a low bun at the nape of her neck. It was neat, and felt secure, like it could survive all night at a ball. “Kristoff,” she grinned, “It’s amazing!”

He laughed slightly, admiring his own handiwork. “Yeah, it’s not bad for a scruffy ice harvester is it, feistypants?”

She wafted a hand in the air, as if batting away his insult to himself. “Looks like the work of a royal hairstylist to me!”

~

T H R E E

As was ever the case, it felt like Kristoff was the only person in the room who understood what Anna needed. Everyone had been fussing over her and the palace all day. The palace was a flurry of activity, which normally would excite Anna, but today only added to her nerves. Finally, recognising how it was all impacting her, Kristoff had discreetly asked the servants to leave his fiancée’s room, and instructed the guards at the door that no one was permitted to enter for a while.

“What if I trip up?” Anna looked at him, eyes wide, as he escorted her to the chair at her dressing table.

“That’s why you’re in flats, not heels,” Kristoff reminded her gently.

At Kristoff’s insistence, she sat down. “What if I forget the words?”

“You’ve been practising for weeks, Anna. There’s not a person - or a creature - in this castle who hasn’t memorised them by now.”

“What if I drop the sceptre?”

“You won’t do that,” he told her firmly.

She turned in her chair, placing her hands on his shoulders to stare fearfully into his eyes. “But what if I do?”

“Then I will stand up and sing some opera to distract everyone while you pick it up,” he told her earnestly. “Feistypants, listen to me. You are so prepared for this. You have rehearsed this ceremony a thousand times, and everyone is rooting for you to do well. Just make sure you grip that sceptre well before you pick it up, and everything will be fine.”

They shared a quiet smile, and Kristoff directed her to turn back around in her chair. She sighed as he gathered her hair in his hands. It felt so familiar and comforting to have her fiancé’s fingers carefully twisting and braiding her hair, as he had done a thousand times before. He worked quickly, and in no time at all he was pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before reaching for her hand mirror as she gazed into the looking glass in front of her.

“I tried to do the style that your mom has, in her portrait, I-” Kristoff noticed her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh no, Anna, oh please don’t cry. I’ll take it out, I’ll start over, I’m sorry.”

Her voice was a whisper as she gave him a watery smile in the mirror. “Kristoff, it’s perfect.”

He took her hands in his own, tugging her to her feet. Her arms went to his waist as his fingers grazed under her eyes to wipe away her tears before they could fall too far.

“Thank you,” was all she said, leaning upwards to kiss him quickly in a way that reminded him of the first time he’d ever plaited her hair, all those years ago. So much had changed. But one thing hadn’t.

“I love you, feistypants.”

Anna giggled, feeling her nerves subsiding slightly. “I love you too.”

Kristoff pulled himself upright, and put on the ridiculous accents of the diplomats and dignitaries that were no doubt flocking to their seats as they spoke. “May I escort you to your coronation, my Queen?”

Anna’s laugh was full and warmed his heart as she took the arm he had offered to her. “I’m not your queen for another hour,” she stated, rolling her eyes affectionately. “But nonetheless, I accept, sir.”

[artificialqueens]

You've Got the Love I Need (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Five times Denali and Rosé share their love with a love language, and one time they share it with words.

A/N: So excited to finally finish this! Writing has been so slow for me after finishing up the hunger games fic, but I finally got this done, and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing! Please leave feedback if you'd like, I really do appreciate it and love hearing your thoughts!

Title from You've Got the Love by Florence + the Machine.

1. Acts of Service

“Denali, are you sure you don’t need help with that?” Rosé asks--or rather, she asks the pile of clothes Denali is hidden behind, as she carries an overflowing laundry basket.

“I got it.”

“I think I’d be more convinced if I could actually see you.” Rosé leaves the rice she’s stirring and helps Denali set the laundry basket down on the floor, clothes spilling over the sides.

Denali sighs, picking up a shirt and folding it before tossing it back down. “I should probably finish dinner before I do this. Ugh, and I still need to shower and revise that competition routine.” She rubs at her tired eyes, and Rosé’s heart aches. Denali’s had such a busy week at work that she’s gotten behind in just about everything else. Rosé offered to help her already, but Denali said she was fine, so used to doing things on her own that asking for help--let alone accepting it--wouldn’t even cross her mind.

“Hey.” Rosé gently rests her hands on Denali’s shoulders. “I’ll finish dinner while you take a shower. Then you can finish your work after.”

She sees the immediate protest in Denali’s eyes, the stubborn insistence that she can do everything on her own. And technically she can, but Rosé doesn’t want her to stress herself when she doesn’t have to. Rosé is more than happy to help, and she herds Denali to the bathroom before she can protest.

Rosé hums through the kitchen, organizing the fridge and loading Denali’s dishwasher, arranging all the food on the table as Denali emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp at the edges, her face soft and smile wide.

“This is so good,” Denali sighs around a mouthful of food. “Maybe I should let you cook more often.”

Rosé just laughs. She’s gotten better at cooking over the years, especially in the past few months she’s been dating Denali, eager to try new recipes that would make Denali happy.

They do the dishes side by side, bumping hips and shoulders, and retreat to the couch so Denali can work while a cooking show plays in the background.

Rosé reaches for the laundry basket and starts folding one of Denali’s towels.

“You don’t have to do that,” Denali says.

“I want to.”

“But it’s our date night, you shouldn’t have to--”

“I want to,” Rosé says again. “I like helping you out, taking care of you. I mean it.”

Denali smiles hesitantly, relaxing again as she returns to her work, and it fills Rosé with warmth. It’s special to help Denali like this, to take care of her and ease some of her stress, and it’s even more special because of how stubborn and independent Denali normally is. She’s not just accepting Rosé’s help, but her love as well. Love that Rosé wants to give, give in every folded towel and every dinner she makes, a love made of her care. Love that she hasn’t been able to put into words yet, thinking it was too early for those exact words, that she should wait a bit more to say them.

She finishes the laundry and when Denali finishes her work, they come together on the couch like two waves meeting. Denali snuggles against Rosé’s right side, resting her head on her shoulder, while Rosé slips an arm around her waist, holding her tight. Denali is half-asleep when the show ends, and Rosé carefully carries her to bed and tucks her in, leaving with a gentle kiss on her forehead.

—-

2. Words of Affirmation

Despite the freezing cold of the skating rink’s locker room, sweat beads on Denali’s forehead. This is the first routine she’s choreographed and coached for the eleven-and-twelve-year-old group she just took on in addition to the younger kids. Before that she stuck mostly with five- and six-year-olds, who were encouraged on the ice by their parents and thrilled by the sparkly costumes and idea of jumping in the air. It’s fun, and most of them stop formal lessons when it’s time to move into the next age group. But there’s rarely anyone who would continue to the eleven-twelve group if they weren’t serious about it, weren’t in it to compete and win. They’ll be competing with Denali as the coach now, with Denali to blame if something goes wrong.

What if something does go wrong? What if she didn’t teach them well enough? What if she’s not even a good teacher at all, and all the things she did teach them are wrong? What if someone gets hurt because of her? What if--

“I don’t know what it is about the snack bar here, but their hot chocolate is so good--Denali, what’s wrong?”

Denali’s head snaps up to see Rosé in the locker room, two Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate in her hands. She sets them on a bench and comes to Denali’s side, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you nervous about the routine?” Rosé asks.

Denali nods shakily, drawing in a breath. “It’s…bigger than I’m used to. With the little kids, it’s a huge deal if they stand up the whole time. But these kids really want to be great, and don’t even get me started on the parents. I’m just worried I didn’t teach them well enough, that I’m a bad coach.”

It’s a weight off her chest, and it leaves her slumping in relief, leaning into the hands Rosé places on her arms.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Rosé says gently. “I was a wreck when I started teaching and we had our first choir concert. But you’re an amazing coach. I know you’ve taught those kids everything they need to know. I believe in you, Denali, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Those kids are lucky to have you as their coach. And if any of their parents give you trouble, they’ll have to go through me first,” Rosé says fiercely, squeezing Denali’s arms.

Denali wipes away a tear, Rosé’s words everything she needed to hear. Denali’s no stranger to anxiety, to the doubts and worries swirling around her head. But to have Rosé, to have those words of trust and support, is sometimes exactly what she needs to quiet them down. Rosé believes in her, and Denali can believe in herself too.

“You’re right,” Denali says quietly. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Rosé nods, handing Denali one of the cups. “Let’s have some hot chocolate and go out there, okay?”

Denali nods, the drink warming her just as much as Rosé’s hand in hers as they head out.

—-

3. Quality Time

Ever since Rosé was little, she’s loved blanket forts. It started out as something her parents would do to make movie nights more special, but it quickly became something she asked for almost every weekend, or whenever she was upset. Something about curling up on the living room rug with blankets all around her made her feel safe, made movies even better and soothed any bad days she had at school.

The first time Rosé sheepishly suggested they watch a movie inside one, she hadn’t expected Denali to leap to her feet and run around the place looking for blankets and pillows. Denali had been in some nature scout troop when she was a kid--Rosé squealed at the picture of tiny Denali, teeth missing from her wide smile, wearing a vest and sash covered in patches--and knew how to pitch a tent, a skill she brought to their blanket fort. She used kitchen chairs and the couch for extra support, a canopy of cotton and flannel covering the living room. It stood strong and sturdy while they were nestled safely inside, and it became a movie night tradition.

“How’s the popcorn coming?” Denali asks.

“Almost done.” Rosé shakes the pot as the kernels pop while Denali tends to the hot chocolate, pouring it into two mugs--the one with little cartoon dogs Rosé bought so Denali could have her own special mug here, and the one with pink music notes Denali got Rosé as a just-because gift.

Rosé dumps the popcorn in a big bowl and Denali drops fistfuls of marshmallows into the mugs, bringing it all to the living room and sliding under the blanket fort.

The best part about the fort is that it’s just them inside. They leave their phones on the couch, and there’s no work, no stress, no distractions. Just them together, their attention fully devoted to each other. A time to simply be together with nothing in the way.

Rosé starts Stardust, nestling into the long body pillow perfect for fort nights, letting Denali snuggle up next to her. Rosé takes in her long eyelashes, her warm eyes, her soft lips. She takes it all in, this time to just be with Denali.

It would be a good time to tell Denali she loves her, but it’s so quiet, so peaceful, just their breathing and the movie, that Rosé doesn’t want to disturb the moment. Besides, being with Denali like this, wiping melted marshmallow off her nose, is a love more than words can describe.

—

4. Physical Touch

Denali has always loved touch. Her parents loved her, she never doubted that, but they weren’t ones for physical affection. So Denali treasured every hug or hand on a shoulder she got from them, and sought out touches wherever she could get them. Her skating coach’s arms around her in a hug, congratulating her on her routine. A friend’s legs thrown over hers while they lay in the sunny backyard. Holding hands and interlocking fingers with her first boyfriend in high school, her first girlfriend in college.

She always sought and gave touches in her relationships. An arm around their waist, a hand on their back, her head on their shoulder. Something to let them know she was there, to share her love with them. And every touch she got back let her know they were there, filled her with their love too.

Rosé had told Denali early on that she’s asexual, and it didn’t change the way Denali feels about her, didn’t make her want to stop dating Rosé, just like Denali telling Rosé she’s bi didn’t change things either. If anything, it brought them closer, brought another level of trust between them.

But Denali also wanted to make sure her touches were okay, so they talked about what Rosé is comfortable with, what her boundaries are. Rosé gets a little uncomfortable with hands on her thighs, but she loves pretty much all other touches, loves them just as much as Denali. Hand-holding, bumping into each other while they cook, cuddling while they watch movies—Denali loves it all, and loves receiving it from Rosé especially, being filled with her love. Denali’s favorite is when Rosé wraps her arms around her from behind, resting her chin on Denali’s shoulder. Rosé does it now, and Denali melts into the touch. Rosé’s been extra clingy tonight, and Denali knows it’s because she’s had a stressful week, busy with concert rehearsals for her music classes.

“Cuddles tonight?” Denali asks. The touch will comfort Rosé, but each touch will comfort Denali too, letting her share her love and feel close to Rosé.

“Please,” Rosé sighs, guiding her to the couch with her arms still around Denali’s waist. She lays on her back and pulls Denali on top of her, their touches not stopping for a moment. “This week has been so long. I swear I hear those choir songs in my sleep.”

Denali snorts, resting her head on Rosé’s chest and stroking her arm. Her touches are gentle yet grounding, soothing the both of them, giving and receiving love the best way she knows how. She continues the touches as Rosé talks, talks about how much her students have improved, how excited they are. She’s rubbing gentle circles on Rosé’s shoulder as her words slow down and her eyes drift closed.

I love you, Denali thinks. They haven’t said it yet, though it’s not for a lack of the feeling. More that they feel it so much, both in themselves and from each other, that they’ve been hesitant to turn it to words, waiting for an opportunity that would be worthy of such a confession.

Denali could just say it now. She doesn’t need a special occasion to say it, even if it’s the first time. But Rosé has been still for the past few minutes, so she’s at least half-asleep, if not all the way there. Denali can wait. She strokes Rosé’s hair, and when Rosé sighs in content, Denali thinks she got the message anyway.

—-

5. Receiving Gifts

“Rosieeeee.”

Rosé looks up as Denali enters the apartment singing her name.

“What is it?”

“I got a present for you.” Denali has that almost-smug smile on her face, the one she always gets when has something she knows Rosé will love.

And Rosé finds a similar smile of excitement crossing her own face, eagerly accepting the bag Denali gives her. It’s not that Rosé has come to expect Denali to bring her something all the time. It’s not that she even wants Denali to bring something all the time, or that she sees her as nothing but a gift-bringer. It’s that Denali’s gifts, which might be tiny little things to anyone else, make Rosé feel loved. Make her feel known. No matter what Denali brings, Rosé loves it. Sometimes it’s something sweet, a chocolate bar with ruby chocolate purchased because it’s Rosé’s favorite color, shared between them while watching a movie. Sometimes it’s just silly, like the mini unicorn erasers Rosé keeps in a little bowl by her desk. They’re all treasured by Rosé, because Denali saw even the tiniest thing in a store somewhere and instantly thought of her, and it makes Rosé marvel at Denali’s love every time.

It’s like when her parents would surprise her with a new book that became a favorite, or with a new pack of crayons that she used to fill up her coloring books. The purest feeling of excitement, of trust and safety and love.

“Come on, open it!”

As much as she loves to receive the gifts, to receive Denali’s love, it’s equally clear how much Denali loves to give it. She barely makes it five seconds before giving it to Rosé, watching her open it with that proud grin on her face like a parent watching their kid on Christmas morning.

That grin is on full display now, and Rosé smiles too as she pulls the top off a box, one you might use for earrings or a necklace. Inside the box is a beautiful rose keychain, soft pink with gold sparkles. But the keychain is attached to something--to a key, and Rosé looks up in confusion.

Denali looks at her. “I figured it was about time you had a key to my place. Just in case, you know?”

Rosé grins. “You’re gonna regret this, Denali. I’ll sneak in your room at six am and give you a singing wake-up call. You’re not getting rid of me now,” she teases, but she squeezes Denali’s hand to show how much it means to her.

“I’d never want to get rid of you,” Denali says. “Unless you really do show up at six, then I’m taking that key back and burning it.”

They laugh together, and Rosé already plans on going there next week to surprise Denali.

---

+1

“Are you ready?” Rosé asks.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Denali says confidently, rubbing her hands together. “The real question is whether this place is ready for me.”

She strides into the boardwalk arcade, relishing in the bright neon lights and the hiss of arcade games spitting out paper tickets. Her parents used to drag her out of here as a kid, cutting short her quest to earn enough tickets for one of the big prizes, not just the bouncy ball or eraser you got for a mere 300 tickets. But today, it’s just her and Rosé, and they’ve already gone on the boardwalk rides and stuffed themselves with funnel cake, and now they can stay here as long as they want, clear the place out of tickets and prizes.

Denali hits up the skee-ball racks first, her and Rosé giggling next to each other as their balls fly up the ramps, giving into their competitive sides just a little as they aim for the 100-point slots in the top.

“Your aim could use a little work,” Rosé teases.

“So could your form,” Denali says. “Let me take you to the rink some time, I’ll help with that.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” It’ll be another adventure, another night to enjoy, and Denali looks at Rosé, at her beautiful smile that still makes Denali’s heart flutter, and knows there’ll be no shortage of adventures, of nights like this.

She grabs Rosé’s hand and they race across the sticky floor, taking on pinball and balloon darts and Pac-Man, joking and laughing the whole time. At the end of the night, tickets spill out of their hands like tentacles, and Denali looks up at the row of prizes behind the main desk. She turns to Rosé and nods, and they pass out their tickets to the kids scattered through the arcade.

“Ice cream?” Denali asks. “All that winning made me hungry.”

Rosé snorts, but happily leads her to the ice cream stand. The stars are just starting to come out, little twinkles that catch Rosé’s hair, and Denali looks at her and says it.

“I love you.” She doesn’t need a special occasion for it, doesn’t need a worthy moment. Her love is something she can share as often as she wants, in words and in actions.

Rosé’s eyes widen and she breaks into a huge smile, pulling Denali close and kissing her cheek.

“I love you too.”

[harrysgloves]

Let Your Hair Down (chapter xv)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 1,762

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: plans change

warnings: laaaaanguage..

a/n: okay I desperately needed a happy MC and Harry in this one after the last chapter so excuse me while I go cry over how cute these two can be. okay that’s it. xx

>>><<<

You'd never walked home so fast in your life. Basically running with Thea in your arms towards your apartment building. You didn't want to be paranoid but you had no idea that Ryan knew where you worked. You wouldn't put it past him to know where you lived too.

Luckily, Thea had no problem being carried home from school. She hung onto your hip, arms around your neck, telling you all about her day at school. She didn't notice anything wrong with you besides the marks on your arm. You hated lying to her but you didn't want to involve her in any adult problems. Telling her you had an accident and she left the subject alone.

"Momma, can we call Harry?" Thea asked when you finally got into your apartment. You felt like you were finally able to breathe again when you locked all 3 of your door locks. A weight of anxiety being lifted off you, knowing Ryan couldn't break through 3 locks and your front door to get in.

"We'll call him in a minute." You said, walking with Thea to the kitchen. She sat her backpack on the table, pulling out her picture for Harry as you rummaged through your bare fridge to see if there was anything for you two to have for dinner tonight.

"Pizza?" You asked, shutting the fridge door once you saw it was a losing battle for dinner that night. You were too frazzled to even eat but you had to do something for Thea.

"Yes! I want extra cheese." Thea sang out her agreement, pulling out her folder of homework and getting started on it. You smiled, happy she actually liked school and you didn't have to fight with her the whole time to do her work.

"Alright, let me go order then we'll call Harry." You grabbed your phone, plopping on your couch, surprised you hadn't had any more texts from Ryan but considering it a blessing as you placed the usual order to your favorite pizza place.

Once you got off the phone you scrolled to Harry's contact. The picture of Thea and him from a little over a month ago shining bright, making you smile. So much had changed since then. You felt like you'd open yourself up so much to being happy again and now your past was sneaking up on you.

You sighed before clicking the facetime button. You knew you needed to tell someone about what happened with Ryan but you couldn't go there yet. You just wanted to forget it, pushing it to the back of your mind when Harry's wide smiling face appeared on your screen.

"Hey, I've missed ya love." His smile was contagious, making the bad day melt away from your thoughts. He had such a great way of making your anxieties fade just by being around.

"Missed you too, so much." You sighed, just wanting him to give you a hug. Long-distance sucked and it wasn't even 12 hours apart. You tried your best to not think about all of your doubts about your newly formed relationship but the look on your face must have been enough to concern him.

"Wat's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a rough day. I need a hug." You sighed again, sitting back further on the couch when you heard Thea running from the kitchen.

"Harry!" She yelled jumping on the couch to be able to see him on your phone. Her face inches away from the screen so you couldn't see his face anymore but could hear him laughing.

"Hey, sunshine. How was school?" He asked, your phone taken from your hands as Thea held it herself to talk to him.

"Good. Van asked me to be his girlfriend again but I think I'm going to ask Will if he'll be my boyfriend cause he shared his crayons with me today." She blurted out, making you laugh from beside her. Knowing the response to this was going to be priceless.

"Yer not allowed to date til yer 35." He huffed out, not finding it funny at all but making you crack up.

"Yeah no dating Thea!" You heard Mitch call out from a distance.

"Thea, stop giving Uncle Mitch and Harry blood pressure spikes. Go work on your homework." You rolled your lips when you saw her confused look on her face but she eventually agreed and handed you back the phone.

"Y'still coming Friday right?" He asked the second your face came back into view.

"Might come out tomorrow if that's okay. I got some time off and Thea doesn't have any tests this week or anything so…" you trailed off, not wanting to tell him the reason you wanted to come out sooner was because you were scared to stay alone or walk around the city by yourself.

"Really?" That stupid heartwarming dimpled smile back on his face, wider than ever. You nodded, trying your best to contain your excitement. You needed this vacation, time away from all the shit going on.

"I'll see ya tomorrow then, love."

It was probably the longest flight of your whole entire life. The whole time Thea was bouncing in her seat asking how much longer. Every time you answered with the time left she'd then lean over the poor guy beside you and look out the window. Then she'd play on her iPad for 2 seconds before repeating it all again… for 6 hours.

The guy beside you ran like a fire was lit under his ass to get off the plane and honestly you couldn't blame him. As cute as your kid could be she definitely had her moments when she was a bit much.

You understood her excitement though. You were so ready to ignore all your problems for a week, to reset and get away from everything. It was much needed. The thought of relaxing away from the stress of Ryan, who still hadn't bothered you since he showed up to your job, and the thousands of people now practically stalking you online was great.

Your mind filled with all the things you and Thea could do in California as you made your way through the airport. You repeatedly had to remind Thea that she had to hold your hand and not run off to stores as you two pushed through people to get to where Harry said he'd be waiting for you two.

You only managed to get lost once on the way there but the swarm of people eventually signalled where you guys needed to go. You sighed, pulling Thea close, debating if getting back on the plane was an option instead of dealing with all these people looking at you and Harry.

Thea on the other hand had no fear as she caught sight of Harry. She let go of your hand and charged towards him. The bodyguards you'd never had to be around before in New York perking up the second she started yelling for him and waving her hands.

"Harry! Harry!" She yelled, running full force to him causing the protective people around him to turn towards the sound.

You thought you were about to have to go a thousand shades of psycho on some bald asshole, racing after her, trying to get to her before someone touched your fucking kid and you'd have to whoop ass in front of all these cameras.

Harry's head snapped around to you guys as you got closer. Thea not listening at all to your demands to stop as she got closer to him and your protective mother mode kicked. Not only was everyone now looking at you but the fear of someone taking her or some asshole bodyguard touching her to get her away from Harry made your stomach turn.

"Whoa." Harry grabbed the guy standing beside him shoulder before he even had a chance to step in front of him. "She's mine, it's fine."

The sentence made him stop in your tracks. Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that?

You slowly walked the rest of the way toward him as Thea flung herself into his arms and giving him a hug like she hadn't seen him in a year. You smiled softly but was very aware of everyone still standing around you when you finally approached him.

"Hey." He said all laughs and smiles like he didn't just call your child his own a second ago. How the fuck were you supposed to be okay after that? You weren't sure how to feel about it but as you stood watching them together you couldn't help the tugging feeling in your heart that this was right.

"Hey." You smiled back finally giving him the hug you've needed. Thea still hanging onto him as his one arm pulled you in tightly to him.

"Let's get out 'f 'ere." He smiled down to you, dimple popping out when you nodded your head.

The three of you made your way out of the airport together. His free arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as his other one kept Thea on his hip.

You sighed the second you got in the car and away from all the people staring at you. California felt like a different planet compared to New York. You weren't used to all the attention.

"Jus' ignore it. No one'll bother y'guys. It dies down sum jus' not used to me havin' two cuties with me." He kissed your cheek, causing Thea to snap her attention to you two.

Harry's eyes widened the second he realized he'd been caught. Your laughter erupted from you but Thea looked more confused than ever.

"Why'd you kiss momma?" She asked sitting up straighter in your seat. "Does this mean you're her boyfriend?"

His eyes looked like they were going to actually pop out of his head. You thought you could see him actually start to sweat. You had to give yourself a moment to stop laughing as Harry sat like a deer in headlights.

"Is that okay?" You asked, finally turning to her.

She just smiled brightly nodding her head. Dropping the subject completely when the car started moving.

"Holy shit. She's goin' t'give me a heart attack one 'f these days."

"You have to pay the curse jar!" She piped up again, not taking her eyes off the window.

You laughed sitting back in your seat leaning your head on Harry's shoulder as he grumbled under his breath. The smile not leaving your face as things finally felt good in your life.

[kirstinmaldonado]

Chapter Four 2.0

Is it just me or are the alarming numbers of posts about weight gain or weight loss in this time freaking everyone out? I know I’m not innocent; I’ve definitely joked about my personal quarantine-15 as well, blindingly attempting to hide my own insecurities with it through humor.

But if I see another “Carbie” or changed photo online insinuating weight gain, I might cry.

It’s hard enough trying to “make the most” of your time, even if you’re riddled with it. If you read my last post, you’d think by now I’d be the fit, Spanish-speaking, piano-playing, singer-songwriter that Week 1 Kwarantine Kirstie dreamed of. As we know, I’ve “fallen off.”

But have I? Is this really the age we’re in? Where in a global pandemic we still feel the urge to get a thousand things done in the mere 24 hours we get a day? 

That societal pressures are so prominent that we all joke together about how much weight we’ll gain? And where posts scream at you with side by side pictures of extreme weight loss, expecting you to not only have your life together but lose weight with all this “extra time?���

I digress. I can’t do it all and keep my mental health in check.

People are either finding new or returning to hobbies to distract themselves from what is going on right now, and that’s great. If yours is that home workout, I applaud you!! Keep at it! It’s so good for your mental and physical health, I know I need to be more on top of it! 

If it’s reading a little, spring cleaning, whatever it is that you are able to accomplish, I am proud of you! If you’ve been able to dig in and uncover a goal you’d not been able to achieve before, don’t let this or anything hold you back! I hope to get to that mindset and I feel I am on my way!

But in the meantime, I’ve been baking, and since there’s only two people in the house it’s, y’know, not ideal for the waistline.

But here’s my deal. I’m coping. When I went to the grocery store a few weeks ago and saw empty shelves, I cried and went to the baking aisle to get decorations and proper ingredients for the baking I was planning on doing. My hands have been stained with food color more often than not within just this last week, as I baked for friends’ birthdays in quarantine and for Easter.

And that’s okay! I am adapting.

You know why I stopped baking so much in the first place? I ran out of time. When I’d be home from tour I wanted to relax more than work all night in the kitchen. I wanted to spend quality time enjoying others’ company rather than cleaning pots and pans all night. But I’ve realized now more than ever that baking just brings me this sense of happiness, like I’m sure other things do for you guys.

There’s a rhythm to baking, how you mix it. You can’t rush the process, ‘cause the icing will melt if your treat hasn’t cooled. There’s a sense of calm patience I enjoy that is hard to replicate. And then the decorating taps in to my artistic side, and depending on how I’m feeling I’m either slathering that icing on freely or delicately decorating with pearl accents and made-from-chocolate flourish!

Baking brings me back to Nana’s and Grandma’s kitchens. My favorite thing was baking with them, rolling dough, watching them and learning! As I grew older, got my own place, that feeling of baking and care-taking made me happy. Baked goods always have a lot of love in them, I feel, and is this not a time to put a smile on peoples’ faces? Why not do what I love on Easter and bake a whole cake, a hobby that reminds me of my family that I miss so much and can’t be with?

I don’t want all this to sound like an explanation for my recent eating choices. You’re not my food journal. And even though I’ve dipped away from my goals and feel a little disappointment, I know I was cathartic baking and so accept the consequences of my actions. The point is to recognize and move forward.

I also don’t want this to be like every “how/why not to gain weight in quarantine” post, because I don’t know how to do that.

With all the stress on how this would progress, I don’t blame myself or anyone for freaking out when they saw empty shelves and grabbing the closest thing they could find that has a decent shelf-life (Kraft Mac n Cheese…). The real hurdle here, my point, is just making sure you’re being healthy to yourself.

If you want some red wine, go for it. If you want to treat yourself, okay! These things are all fine in doses as long as you don’t transform your habits from healthy to unhealthy.

I have binged before. I have purged before. I have had the most unhealthy views of my body before. I still battle with it. But within this last year I have gained so much knowledge about how my body operates. I have fed it cleaner food and seen how it’s transformed my mind, body, and spirit. I have worked SO hard and done two a days. It’s not always the easiest, but I spent quality time taking care of myself.

All that to say, my initial 2020 goals were to remain on track and healthy to myself. This is THE year, I thought.

Coronavirus put a…twist on my goals. I haven’t been fussing about the wine I’ve had, or the goodies I’ve made, as I focused more on my mental health. I am glad I let myself just be. It really helped. But it’s mid week five and we have five more weeks ahead of us at least. And as I started looking at myself in the mirror, or flipping through Instagram, I could feel my anxiety creep up again. So I made that dreaded trip to the scale and got out my measuring tape which I’d used before to track progress.

And you know what? I gained inches. I gained weight. 

Did it make me…kinda sad? Yes. I felt disappointed as if all my hard work last year was for naught.

But…I gained weight in a global pandemic.

In the big picture of things, how fortunate am I to have the resources to feed myself. To gain weight. 

All these ads, all the modified pictures which are ACTUALLY kinda fat-shaming, all this panic of gaining weight is so triggering while everyone is just trying to keep relatively afloat. It feels insensitive. I can’t flip through Instagram without seeing people capitalizing on the situation. “Lost 20lbs with this amazing home workout plan and tea” or diets to take care of the “stubborn fat you’ll have” when this ends. It’s toxic for those that battle with eating disorders or body dysmorphia. It’s toxic for those that are just able to get what they can. There’s enough stress already! We are staying inside and at home for a REASON. If you have the luxury to gain a few pounds while you’re safer at home, good for you. Don’t be so hard on yourself as you try to mitigate a PANDEMIC.

I am trying not to be. I am re-adjusting how I’m working out so it fits more in line with my aesthetic goals. We are almost done eating the carrot cake from Easter (yikes, I know, already, it was too good). 

All I hope for myself, and for you all, is that you don’t fall in to unhealthy ways, mentally or physically. It’s a battle, especially in this time, I know! I’ll be the first to say I haven’t been my best. Gaining some pounds isn’t unhealthy itself, but can manifest into bad habits in this isolation like binging or an overall sedentary, unmotivated lifestyle.

If you’re moving, you’re getting a little sun, and you are staying safe and healthy, you’re gonna be okay. Don’t let little personal fluctuations alarm you and derail who you are and what you’ve worked for. The world is fluctuating with you, so you are constantly having to adapt!

I’m going to make a better effort to not coop myself inside, be aware if I’m overdoing the emotionally eating, and feed my body in all the right ways. Mind. Body. Spirit. Besides that, it’s just taking one day at a time.

I hope you all are safe and healthy. I hope you all are still believing and trying your best. <3