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bridgeportacademyhq · 2 years ago

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EVENT002: WEEK of WELCOME

Since its opening, Bridgeport Academy has been known for many things, one of the most prominent of which has been the annual Week of Welcome. While the events of the week have been known to change from time to time, ultimately the purpose remains the same- to ensure that each and every student has the opportunity to familiarize themselves with the Academy, as well as their fellow students, prior to the start of classes.

WEEK of WELCOME SCHEDULE of EVENTS

Saturday, January 28, 2023: Welcome Back Game Night : join us in the student lounge from 6:00 PM - 9:00 PM for a night of refreshments and fun. board games, video games, card games, and dancing games will run for 3 hours, providing the perfect opportunity for students to connect, relax, and familiarize themselves with each other.

Sunday, January 29, 2023: Group Tours : anyone unfamiliar with the intricacies of the academy is invited to join us in the courtyard at 12:00 PM noon for campus-wide group tours. new students are encouraged to take this opportunity to explore campus, locate important student hot spots, and even learn a bit of academy history.

Monday, January 30, 2023: Meet the Staff : everyone is invited to join us in the auditorium from 6:30 PM - 7:30 PM for an evening of introductions to the staff here at the academy. each staff member will introduce themselves and give a brief description of their positions and departments at bridgeport. afterward, students will have the opportunity to meet each staff member one-on-one, ask any questions, and begin making any appointments they may need. refreshments provided.

Tuesday, January 31, 2023: Course Fair & Registration : students are encouraged to join us in the conference hall for our biannual registration fair. this will give students the opportunity to meet our faculty, learn more about this semester's course offerings, and register for classes/building their schedules. take this time to meet with course advisors, plan graduation schedules, and determine which courses best fit individual study plans. refreshments provided. the fair will be held from 10:00 AM - 4:00 PM.

Wednesday, February 1, 2023: Club Fair & Registration : join us in the conference hall for our biannual club fair. this fair will give students the opportunity to meet our club captains, learn more about the groups at the academy, and sign up for extracurriculars. come prepared with questions, our club captains and staff sponsors are ready and happy to answer your questions. refreshments provided. the fair will be held from 10:00 AM - 4:00 PM.

Thursday, February 2, 2023: Guess Who : students who wish to participate are encouraged to join us in the library between 9:30 AM - 10:30 AM to sign up for the event. those who register will be asked to simply record their name and telephone number on a sheet of paper. at promptly 11:00 AM each student who registered will receive a text containing only the number of another participating student. from there, students should begin texting the individual who's number they have been given. the goal is to get to know your texting partner enough throughout the day to determine who they are based only on questions answered during the text conversation. participating students should not break the rules by asking for or telling names, and all guesses should be submitted to the head librarian, atticus barnes, no later than 6:00 PM. the first three students to correctly guess the name/identity of their assigned partners will win prizes.

Friday, February 3, 2023: Hit the Town : everyone is invited to join us in the courtyard at 11:00 AM to enter the town of bridgeport as a group. students are encouraged to explore, shop, and familiarize themselves with offerings and availabilities in town. a group dinner, sponsored by the academy, will take place in town at 6:00 PM sharp.

Saturday, February 4, 2023: Homecoming Dance : all are welcome to join us in the gymnasium for our annual homecoming dance. from 7:00 PM - 12:00 AM, students are encouraged to dance, mingle, and enjoy their evenings in a relaxed, welcoming, and fun environment. refreshments provided. please remember this is a semi-formal event.

Sunday, February 5, 2023: It's Brunch Time & Movie Night : join us in the dining hall from 11:00 AM - 1:00 PM for an exquisite, extra large, all you can eat, catered brunch buffet to celebrate the start of classes the following week. Then, from 6:30 PM - 8:15 PM, join us in the auditorium for a special, relaxing movie screening to wind down our week of welcome.

ooc: if your character(s) wish to participate in any events, post any starters related to events, or host a booth at the club fair, please feel free to do so! there will be very little expectations and regulations to the event- we genuinely want to see you explore your muses freely, while allowing them to meet new people and build new relationships.

if you wish to have your character(s) participate in the GUESS WHO game, please make sure to turn in their name to either the main, or an Admin via discord, no later than wednesday, february 1, 2023.

please remember to tag all starters, media, and related posts with ba.event and ba.event002.

as always, any questions or concerns are welcome!

#ba.event #ba.event002 #ba.admin

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libidomechanica · 4 months ago

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But day doth dissolving

A cinquain sequence

But day doth dissolving into your large blows, and some time, if ever to remove: o no!

His maxims, which insphere the spur inspir’d and water their white yowes. The sun, that doth thee!

By cold stuff, live chattels, mincers of earliest birds; nor rising sun on this forest thief!

Had labour. All that I loue not wrong and learned troupe. Yet so different voice? The cause of both.

Of roses as she laugh and here I but all are laid on each side bowed on her bosom heave.

Like to make the Ithacensian suitors in old tale. It comes a cloud: for among the land.

We seven that night and died; and mixt with men. Lava river go all in a bliss to die.

I think of you! The fiery splintered in, there the fisherman’s boy, Kill him no cure me.

Hear the immortal in a forbidden or formalities are only pegs; and, saying.

Woodland great ends: ourselves as hands and water shall not far away; I hate’ to me you found?

Had come— so sure I? It gave brighter days hence, or Fate uncertain gloom, and serenades.

You are young. The faces there grey seniors question of ours! Who, who admire, would understand.

Rich they brought a bedde of each dwelling youth, a witless minutes of the wind! Our animals.

Stared with face across the children slow suns. The First Intellectual eunuch Castlereagh?

I snap the drill but from me was John. To Sorrow, called love, calling down into human kiss!

Their doom, that time I tied this. Own dear, turns out the Russian storax from the abuse of wrong.

—Then hey, for a taper, bowed my heaven seem best? The lists were dead, forgot much, Cynara!

Cupid in shamefull coupe. White as stone. At cold he picked the place, a body of body.

Of gold, and wine: or for bridal-gift a scourge of it. For these are the early morning meal?

And yet, like slang. While the fix’d foot, makes me end where smouldered peace she cries, Forsooth, let go!

Therefore the sharpe showres. Taking Schmacksmith, ’ a village of Absál set it awhile, thou art.

The king locked at noon texting forth abroad in the rest, our houses, light, from dirt, out of rules.

That since, and I grow cold. That lute and plain and is never will say what comes into itself.

Into Bagdad came a postscript and every coppice- feathered like a blow! Scowl on, ye fates!

I bless you turned,—and so he within us. Nobody wears even to eternity.

Be thy love. Fleet I was cursing hour’s supporting now. So he inwardly, and heaven’s will.

These ladies’ eyes and taught it was; and there in the sails? I am food on the things aspire.

Having through the eagles. By such a meek surrender; your bowled an answer to other end.

A caring the blind mans marke, weening its worthiest till he wasn’t true. Der music we know.

Sing terms, but the teeth and though compasse weightye prise, and the height. And making little more than war.

Then Gama turned away.— Me—the present poem— of—I know too well I claim from right out.

In this very talents of his body? Said he, and make us all were invaded, sdeath!

But she’s mine! Spring doth remove the passion puls’d its watery disk caught up into love.

And kiss, I woke it was beheaded. All mine Oten reedes beneath the small ill or no.

Still forget all is stifled. Up the woman as short in your heart. The place, a body sways.

Doth loath a lowly dying abroad. They lost they so formed be, according to Jove aloud.

Him in that will or no. Marriage-tomb, the sound of beauty and ten women with bloosming Buds.

And Southern morn. Alone, in clubs, of all dreaming evil, I have now to paint out ioy, thought!

So that sweeps through the air. To hint at least not tame the cherye was a most fitt ne brest of that?

Sharp like trees, a little birds, how calm and watch, would mounts The Throne. Had he left your own child-bed.

It is not stir his eyes to waste, where the fierceness. Presumptuous though cast together.

And my room where ever fell his foolish maid! ’Er the greenery which there foreign churches.

And used to and friend that often did rest his heart. Beyond thin are very scorn of our sport!

Your second skin. ’ Said Ida; let us kiss upon his Lips, The Sage behold Apollo!

That on the sun hotter than you’d breaks white should he adore a sultan? Now Mars, nostrils blood.

Which i have laid my hair were severe chilled albatross’s white echo of clamorings and fear!

What were drowned with the breach. To the vitriol madness floods, unfettered word their unsuccess.

In case mercy come, with all health confide. Sooner or later I the sward was turned away.

With implacable sweet thing wind, when thus man-girdled her too, ’ said Ida; home! Whose bugle?

Call country ants to have my body sways. Watch out for feare of those prophecies, o Sorrow!

’En out. Each with loyal obeysaunce, heaping vp waues of hys foe. Say that awoke the earth.

Should do much hold, nor bent, as with children! Some act of loving an inspired, snail- paced lives.

Ah, woe is me! A waterman came to slope, and sucking up to bless you turned her alone!

And gives th’ executor to be. Now Ben had sailed a score of names of fashionable.

Shine here those. A woman but a shame that is pleasant valley of my life had fled away!

Shall I say?—Again repeated, as he slumber. With tilt and thought I could not dare look, quite.

Said he, Let others glory. I will forget your bloodshot eyes, the cradle of thy death crown!

And if we love often tried Valkyrian hymns, or infection. Lady, for a day, oppress’d?

Will drink potions of the faint flush her but I? And when we combat for ane an’ twenty, Tam!

No stream came of love had breath. Fixed the turf outsprang direction, as roll the full-crown’d in cream?

Think thy thoughts, sold cheap what is gone not that music in a forbidding thy native hell. Of.

How shall be a hymning up the towsing and kiss, I dare not for mine. The loss: the patron.

Sooner or later in the first who bore it like a nurse. And my grief; though so vast my life!

Or curious wits, seeing it, and man’s names, pulling the animals. ’What need to strike him.

Of yesterday, the sink. ’ That one would be parting from Heavens, and to toy with holiday.

Then I ’d follow him! Particulate; where no great pass: I think, soft and friends for the shoes.

Her playmates of Hell shall at once again—again after the sea. Do not love is it not.

Turn my fashion’d all the slant in one sees her hidden fawn. Summer long; and heave tumult fell.

Not he: his hopes undone. Of the dark land, well continent, Adam, from you begin your curls.

Nelly Gray! The crunch of icy grass underground thereof, that weld the truth by. Pen, for one?

—Say what could not well be life and clear; and when Old Love put forth his life. I bring ye love: quest.

Come they hunt with Time begins among the state perplexing! For six hours and bring ye love: quest.

Let’s content vs in thee, as that somewhere! Where didst thou mayst return in happy youth—Love!

No great Augustus long have I said, I have been her kind. His plump white farmhouse understand!

That ’s understand. How shall she have the unbroken state, straight and day, when there are the house.

Stole that dealt with you, was all. Who had small lights of winter when well deserve of Phoebus’ lips?

With fair guests, if so you ready, o mount and made the Meaning in the pavement lay carved stars.

Already with prudes for all this way: don Juan, who were slick-faced. Come hither, lady fair.

After his packe, all gather’d horses, thou sit amid our regions are at all! You are free!

Joy … the lost lamb at her! When thou hast stay’d still we hear a trumpets from the father’s apron.

Ending against the temple be destructing, dear man, I think it soon was of fond foolerie.

Of cold and him: but let the lists were ready. Like hawks round there I unswear, that dead weight tress.

—First of all. Lo, the valley, no, not that the tenor of the gentle clouds do blot the seer.

Follow, that sparkling sounds that I knew, I knew. Old passion rooted from high to kill ye.

Gude news I’ve to this, I might call me call; and complain. And like ravellers journey is done.

Call country or its station: but they meant; for spite of doom. My mother’s, and your sweet saying.

Now Ben he was there we our slender prise. Till flesh and his goddesses of the tubes and tide.

A heat, but honeying with dumbe eloquence. I stood and sallying terms, but missed: we seem a nest.

But lo! At that whereon follower of their sad fate proposed by the clouds do blot the heart!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #199 texts #cinquain sequence

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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

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Maybe, if you have any extra time, would you consider doing a continuation of the good villain rehab center prompt??? 🥺

🥺 I loved writing that one. Here you go! Just as a heads up, I’m going to start making prompt fills like this a little shorter, just because they’re starting to pile up a little. I wanna make sure I can answer all of them!

Thank you so much for the request!! Continued from here. This one is fluffy but also just a little sad.

CW//Hospital setting, pill mention, nausea mention, low self esteem

Visiting hours were from one to four.

That was the first thing Villain learned about the Supervillain Memorial Villainous Recovery Center, or, as it was far more commonly known, for the sake of brevity, the RC. That visiting hours were from one to four.

They could not help but hear the fact, echoing in their mind, as they glanced to the clock. Half after noon.

Half an hour.

Lunch was served at noon sharp-- they had learned that, too. Villain glanced down at the plate, sitting on the desk before them. It had been picked clean, to the point of nigh-spotlessness, leaving behind only the smeared residue of sauces and spices.

Two days. Three, they supposed, now, since the clock’s hands had already passed well into the afternoon. Three days, spent at the RC.

72 hours. Not counting the time they’d spent without their consciousness intact.

They sighed, placing down their fork-- a real, metal fork-- and listening to its soft clatter against the porcelain dishware.

Visiting hours were from one to four. Meaning that, in half an hour, Hero would be there. They’d grown familiar with, though not particularly fond of, the knock on their door-- the age-old call: “Villain, you have a visitor.”

Lunchtime had quickly become their least favorite time of day.

Things were peaceful before food was served. They woke up when wakefulness stirred them, spurred by no alarm, human or otherwise. The room was... comfortable. Light coaxed its way between the shades of their closed blind, leaving sunspots on the wood-paneled floor.

Though they awoke alone, when they emerged from bed, it was never long before someone came to see them. Doctor, it had been so far. A face they had learned to find kind and welcoming, even if their movements still made them uneasy.

Every day, the doctor would coax a light knocking upon their door, greeting them with a soft call of ‘good morning.’ They would ask how they had slept, how they were doing.

It was always the less practical questions that came before those of a medical nature. ‘Have you been feeling well?’ ‘Is there anything you need?’ ‘Would you like some tea?’

Then came the medical questionnaire-- a short affair of simple ‘yes’s’ and ‘no’s.’ Yes, their head still hurt. No, they weren’t having any trouble breathing. Yes, they were drinking their water. And their pills. Based upon the doctor’s warm, content smile, Villain’s recovery was going well, though they never mentioned the way that the taste of smoke refused to remove itself from the back of their tongue.

And, finally, the apologies.

To Doctor, Villain’s living conditions must have seemed to be torturous, considering the way they spoke of them.

“I’m so sorry you have to stay in here. Your doctors want a clean bill of health before you move to the main wing. It’s flu season, they say. Something like that could land you in the hospital while your lungs are still weak.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you could come visit with the nurses for a while... Oh, you must be so lonely. Are you sure there’s no one you want to call?”

“You aren’t getting bored, are you? The library is just down the street, are there any books you want? There’s a TV in the employee lounge...”

Yet, despite their countless worries, each and every one went unfounded. Villain’s room was a cell, yes. The door was locked. The window was bolted shut. They were a prisoner, and they knew that.

But, inexplicably, they were happy. On the first day, they had gone so far as to wonder if their food had been tampered with. They’d soon found otherwise, however. There was a far less sinister explanation.

They were simply happy. Perhaps not euphoric. Not overjoyed. But... content.

The time they spent in their cell was serene. Staring out over the window, watching the ocean play, the flowers in the botanical garden flash their extravagant petals. On the second day, when their fatigue had receded, they had obliged one of the doctor’s many offers. A book from the library.

Later that day, a chatty intern had brought in five, jabbering about how they didn’t know how fast of a reader Villain was.

So far, they’d only gotten through one, flipping leisurely through its pages. There was something nearly overwhelming about the experience. Letting the words flow to their mind as waves whorled in the ocean outdoors.

Prisoner or not, they were happy. They enjoyed their cell. There was room to roam, room to breathe. They couldn’t remember the last time they had been able to simply pause. To let every part of them relax.

And, during most of the day, they did relax.

Except during visiting hours. One to four.

Villain’s gaze glanced to the clock. 12:45.

Three days they’d been in the RC. Three days Hero would visit. Even if the hour had no struck yet, there was no doubt in their mind that the hero would be there, right on time, smiling and bringing gifts. The first day, it had been cookies. The second, a handful of candies. Today, they’d promised a brownie.

Villain never ate the food. It went right in the trash, every piece of it. It wasn’t an act of spite, not an act of distrust. But an act of nausea. When Hero left after their visits, they had no desire to eat.

Hero was... nice. That was undeniable. They entered with a grin and left with one, even as it fluttered throughout their meeting. Never had they uttered to Villain an insulting word, an aggressive tone. That was exactly the problem.

Why?

Why hadn’t they harmed them?

By name alone, the RC would have made any villain keep far from its walls. A recovery center was certainly a misnomer, a joke at those inside. Those being held captive, broken down and shattered into fiberglass particles of themself.

Because the heroes were evil. They were in the wrong. Regardless of what they said, regardless of what the public thought, it was the villains who were fighting the good fight. Any facility they had control over was certainly a torture chamber, intent on inflicting nothing but suffering on those inside.

Not bringing them tea and library books.

During visiting hours, from one to four, Villain would hardly speak. They allowed Hero to do that for them-- even as they asked them questions, requested their input, nudged them for anecdotes. There were no words that villain could say that would sound right.

So, they listened. Listened to the hero’s stories, how their day had gone, what stupid think their drunk teammates had done last weekend. Yet, they never strayed to topics of villainy. Never to topics of work. When such things would come up, they were brushed over with professional efficiency. ‘Then we fought downtown, but you’ll never guess how Teammate managed to set off the fire alarm.’

Because they didn’t care. Hero didn’t care.

They didn’t care that they were speaking to a villain. One who had caused untold harm, unending, ceaseless, meaningless destruction. Every time they prompted Villain to speak, they struggled to open their mouth. To let a stream of apologies spill forth, greater than the ocean outside their window.

But, not a single word would emerge. Because it wouldn’t be enough.

In the Supervillain Memorial Villainous Recovery Center, Villain was recovering. That was the problem.

They didn’t deserve it.

#villain whumpee #hero caretaker #doctor caretaker #ask #whumpblr #whump community #hero villain whump #fluff

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years ago

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✄ chapter three: losin' grip on my doin'

a/n: okay, let's goooo! chapter 3 :) things are buildin up... get ready ;) chapter 4 will be posed tonight or tomorrow :)

wc: 4.1k

[fratboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader]

series masterlist

To say the least, waking up the next morning in the most coveted after playboy's bed was a shock. You wake up nestled into Bucky Barnes' side, and you wonder if this is what it felt like.

If this is what every conquest that's been brought to his room feels like when they wake up.

You're very much aware of a metal arm slung over your waist, and you feel panic rise up in your throat. Once you recognize you're fully clothed, you release a breath and feel the tension disintegrating from your body.

You can feel Bucky Barnes' heavy breaths under your head from where you're situated on his chest, and you take a moment and pause.

You would never think you'd find yourself in this situation; sidled up in bed with your university's most notorious fratboy. Someone girls and guys coveted after, and who would do anything to get in bed with him.

Yet, here you are. You don't want to admit to yourself that you quite like it here. You feel comfortable, safe. Fitted perfectly right under his arm, listening to his even breaths as you replay the night before's events in your mind like a film reel.

You meet him.

You play pong with him.

You talk to him.

You go up to his room with him.

And now you're awake in his bed. Fully clothed.

How?

Before you could ask too many questions and drown into a spiral, you hear Bucky draw in a sharp breath, signaling his awakening. You look up at him, wondering how he's going to react to you being here. Not only you being here, but also how you two woke up.

"Mornin', doll." He smiles down at you, and his morning voice sends a shiver down your spine at the raspiness.

"H-Hi." You simply say. You can't quite draw any coherent thoughts at the moment, as Bucky's arm tightens around you and draws you closer to his body.

"Sleep well?" He asks, still looking down at you fond look that makes your heart swell in your chest.

"Hm," you hum, "better than I expected, honestly." You laugh.

"Good, spent way too much on this mattress for it to not please my guests." Bucky smirks, and you get lost in his blue eyes for a moment.

But then, you think about his word choice. Guests. Plural. And although you know nothing happened between you two, you still feel a wave of shame wash over you at the notion.

Bucky's had guests in this bed before. You aren't the first girl to sleep in this bed, and you probably weren't the last.

You feel Bucky shift underneath you, seeing his expression turn to worry at the way you're clearly lost in thought.

"Everythin' alright?" He asks, and you nod quickly.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just peachy." You give a quick smile, trying to not show how your stomach was churning at the thought of all the girls who've been here before you.

"Wanna go grab some breakfast?" Bucky asks, and you pause.

He wants to stay with me? He's not kicking me out, asking me to leave?

“Sure, uh, where did you wanna go?” You ask gently, worrying that you might scare him off, that he’s delusional right now and he doesn’t really want to spend time with you. You’re beyond confused right now.

“We can head to the diner if you’re good with that? My treat.” He says as he stands up, pulling on a shirt to avoid the chill of the room.

It’s a red henley, and the way you see his muscles straining in the sleeves of the shirt has a blush crawling up your neck.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You croak, getting out of the bed.

By the time you get up and get dressed, sweatpants courtesy of Bucky, and head to the diner, it’s already noon. It’s a Saturday morning, so most people are still in bed while recovering from their hangovers.

“So, how come I haven’t seen you at one of our parties before last night?” Bucky asks while you seat yourselves at a booth in the back of the diner.

“I uhm, I don’t really go out too much. Natasha basically begged me to come out, and I only did it to get her off my case and stop asking me.” You reply while taking a sip of the scalding coffee in front of you that a nice waitress poured for the two of you.

“Really? Well, I’d say you should come more often,” he gives you this smile, and your brain is short-circuiting at how handsome he looks. “You were a great pong partner.”

The emphasis on the word and his tone indicate that he was very much so being sarcastic, and you give a bashful chuckle at his words.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I have nothing on Natasha and Sam.” You laugh, and the same waitress comes by to take your orders.

Once she flutters back behind the counter to put the orders in, you’re reading a text on your phone that you felt vibrate while it was in the pocket of Bucky’s sweater you were sporting.

Natasha:

(12:08 PM) Hey, did you end up getting back safe last night? Sorry I kind of bailed, I just ended up crashing when I got to Sam’s room.

She punctuates her sentence with a face palm emoji in embarrassment, and you smile at the text.

Y/N:

(12:10 PM) Hi, I just crashed in Bucky’s room last night. No funny business tho, so don’t get any ideas in your head.

As you send off the message, you turn off your phone and place is face-down on the table, deciding you’ll deal with Nat’s freak out about you spending the night with Bucky later.

“Everythin’ okay?” Bucky’s voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you snap your eyes up to his.

“Yeah, Nat was just making sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch last night.” You laugh, shaking your head at how dramatic your roommate could be at times.

“Hey, it’s good to know she cares about you.” He responds, and you nod at his words.

“I mean, yeah. No matter how much she might bug me about going out or getting a boyfriend, she’s still like my sister. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A sigh leaves your mouth, thinking about Nat. She’s been there for you through everything in your life, and it was true. She was your biggest supporter, and you’re glad you have someone who cares so much for you.

“She seems like a great friend. Sam and Steve are the same for me. I mean, although I grew up with Steve, Sam was like the third brother we never even knew we needed.” He stares off into the distance with a soft look in his eyes, and you smile fondly at his words.

In that moment, you feel like you’re seeing a side of Bucky that not many people get to see. This is Bucky, a guy from Brooklyn who’s just trying to get by in college. Not a man-whore, or a guy who just wants to ge his dick wet like everyone says.

Before you could come up with a response to what he’s said, the same lady comes and places your hot food in front of the both of you, leaving with a ‘enjoy!’ before she whirls away again.

You eat while making small talk, just about life, school, and hobbies. Before you know it, Bucky asks for the check, and even though you know he said he’d pick it up earlier, you still fight him on paying for half the bill.

In the end, Bucky becomes so frustrated with your antics that he simply gets up and hands the waitress his card, and you simply watch with a dropped jaw at his actions.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You exclaim, albeit quietly, but enough to show your frustration.

“Doll, I’m treating you to brunch. Just let me.” Is all Bucky says, effectively shutting you up.

On your walk back to campus, Bucky asks what you’re doing for the rest of the day, asking if you wanted to come back to his room.

“I should head back, Natasha’s probably waiting for me with a million questions.” You bashfully look up to your window from the bottom of your dorm building.

“Oh, okay doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an unexpected hug. You feel your body tense at the action, but once you realize what’s happening, you relax again, letting yourself melt into his body.

“See ya later?” He asks with a raised brow.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know what I’ll be doing later, but we can talk later.” You smile up at him, slowly moving out of his grip and towards the door.

Before you could fully open the door, you hear Bucky’s voice call out to you one more time.

“Y/N, wait!” He yells, jogging over to you at the door. “Can I uh, get your number? So I can text you later?” He asks, his metal hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“O-Oh, sure! Yeah!” You reply a bit louder than you had intended, just out of pure shock at his question.

You open a new message on your phone, allowing Bucky to type in his number and save his contact. Once he hands the device back to you, you see his name saved as Bucky Barnes <3.

Before you can say anything about the heart he added himself, he pecks your cheek and runs off, with a distant ‘I’ll see ya later, doll!’

You essentially float up to your room, not feeling like you were on the planet right now. You felt like you were up in the clouds, unaware of your own actions. You unlock the door to your room, and Natasha is perched upon her bed, looking down at two outfits she has held up against her form.

“Hey! You didn’t answer my messages, you little bitch! Tell me everything!” She turns around at the sound of you entering, already berating you.

But it all sounds muffled in your ears, not fully comprehending what she was saying to you.

“Hey, you okay? Earth to Y/N?” The redhead says again, waving a hand in front of your face at your spacey expression.

“I-I, yeah, I’m fine. Just… shocked.” You breathe out.

“So? Tell me what happened!”

At first, you could barely get the words out of your mouth, trying to explain everything that occurred in the past 24 hours. You get through the story, a little bit challenged at trying to organize your thoughts, but eventually you get Natasha up to speed.

“So… you didn’t have sex with him?” Your roommate says, and you shake your head no.

“Nat, you know how I feel about having sex. I don’t want to rush into it, and I don’t want my first time to be with some… random guy from a frat. I want it to be with someone I trust, someone I’m comfortable with.” You tell her like a broken record, because over the course of the time that you’ve been friends with Natasha, you’ve had this conversation with her several times. Sometimes, you wondered why she was so hellbent on you losing your virginity.

As much as you loved her and understood her intentions with the question, you were getting tired of having to defend yourself every time.

“I- I know! I just… I want you to be happy, with whoever you want. I never want you to think I’m rushing you though, Y/N. I love you.” Natasha explains, putting her hand on your arm in consolation.

“I know, Nat. But trust me, you’ll be the first to know when I do… do it. Don’t worry.” You laugh at how ridiculous you sounded.

She’s looking back down at her bed now, looking between the outfits she was holding earlier.

“Okay… now, help me pick an outfit! Sam wants to go on a date tonight!” She says, showing you the different options.

As you two banter and talk about last night, you interrupt Natasha’s tirade about Sam and ‘what a gentleman he is!’

“Bucky gave me his number earlier.” Saying it out loud makes it sound all the more ridiculous. You feel like a high-schooler at your words, and the way Natasha stops all movement makes you feel all the more insane.

“His number?” She asks, like she couldn’t figure out what to really say.

“Yeah. He even saved a heart next to his name in my phone. What does that even mean?” You wonder out loud, and now you’re sure you’ve gone crazy.

“I… I’m not sure. I think he likes you.” She says nonchalantly, and you scoff.

“Yeah, because Bucky Barnes is very interested in a girl he met last night who didn’t want to sleep with him. He must be going crazy over a girl like me.” You finish with an incredulous laugh, like it never even crossed your mind that he could like you.

“Well… he acted very different from you’ve been telling me. He usually just fucks a girl and she leaves the next morning, nothing more, nothing less. The fact that he didn’t fuck you and took you out to brunch says a lot about this whole situation.” She explains, and you’re still having a hard time grasping this information.

Just as you’re about to find a rationale as to why her explanation isn’t plausible, you feel your phone buzz.

With furrowed brows, you open your texts.

Bucky Barnes <3:

(2:01 PM) Hey doll, do you wanna come by to another party we’re having tonight? Could use my trusty pong champ ;)

Your mouth dries at the message, words lodged in your throat.

“Look what he just texted me.” You flip your screen to Nat and she reads with an unreadable expression, which quickly turns into her brows shooting up.

“A winky face! Y/N/N, he fucking likes you! He wants to see you again!” She exclaims, and you don’t even know what to say.

“How do I respond?” You feel so unexperienced, asking your roommate for advice on how to text a guy.

“Here, gimme,” she snatches the phone out of your grasp, quickly typing something and handing the phone back to you.

You read what she sent with wide eyes.

Y/N Y/L/N:

(2:11 PM) I’ll be there ;) Should I bring clothes to change into for tonight?

“Nat! Why would you say that? You’re making it sound like I wanna have sex with him tonight!” You rise up from your spot on her bed in a panic, pacing the area of your small room.

“Y/N, relax! He-” Before she could finish, your phone buzzed again.

Bucky Barnes <3

(2:13 PM) Hilarious, doll. You don’t have to, but if you wanna crash here again tonight, you can definitely bring your own stuff if that makes you more comfy :)

“Oh my God. He’s so sweet!” Nat giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “You have to go now!”

“Nat… doesn’t this look a little… suspicious? From what I’ve heard, this isn’t how he usually acts.” You say wearily, the worry clear in your tone.

“Y/N, look at me.” Natasha's hands come to the sides of your head, urging your gaze to meet hers. “You’re a great girl. You deserve someone who treats you well and gets excited to see you, like Bucky is right now. Don’t push him away. You deserve something good.”

At her words, your eyes soften and you feel the distant sting of tears behind your eyes. You give her a nod, not knowing how to express your gratitude to her in words at the moment. She pulls you into a hug and you hold her tight against you, like she might disappear if you let go.

“Now, we need to get you ready for tonight. You’re gonna make Bucky wish he fucked you.” Natasha smirks an evil one.

“Nat!”

The party was in full swing upon your arrival. You were all alone when you walked through the doors of the fraternity house, as Natasha had gone on her dinner date with Sam. She’d promised she’d come by after dinner, and you were practically shaking while searching for Bucky in the packed house.

There were people everywhere, and the longer it took for you to find Bucky, the more anxious you were becoming about being here.

“Y/N!” You hear distantly, and your head whips around in search of the owner of the voice.

You feel a hand slide around your waist, and you smell Bucky before you see him. If it weren’t for the distinct smell of his cologne and mint, you would’ve slapped the hand away long ago.

“Hey! Been wonderin’ when you’d show up.” Bucky has a smile on his face, showing off his pearly whites.

“Sorry, I got held up at home with Natasha.” You tell him, looking around at the crowd. You could feel your breathing shorten at the sheer amount of people around you, and your stomach churns in anxiety.

As if Bucky senses your discomfort, he rubs the hand on your waist along the expanse of your back.

“You okay?” He asks, visibly concerned at your demeanor.

You nod wordlessly, trying to make it seem like you weren’t extremely stressed right now. You would’ve loved to let loose tonight, but yesterday was already pushing it in terms of going out.

“Do you wanna head upstairs?” Bucky asks in clear concern at your demeanor right now. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. If he knew just how much you were going to become uncomfortable by just being here tonight, he wouldn’t have asked you to come. He would’ve simply asked you on a date, or done a night in with you.

You nod again, not allowing the words to leave your throat. You feel as though your mouth is full of cotton, not even being able to form any coherent thoughts at the moment.

Bucky’s cool metal arm guides you by your lower back to the stairs, and you’re once again reminded of the previous night. His cool metal hand is the only thing grounding you at the moment, and you think you would’ve ended up on the dirty bathroom floor downstairs in a puddle of tears if Bucky had taken any longer to find you.

You pass through his doorway, and Bucky’s arm is holding you against him as the door shuts behind you two.

He wordlessly caresses you, running a soothing hand up and down your back, which is partially open because of your outfit. You’re wearing a dress from Natasha’s closet, which she claimed made you look ‘hotter than the motherfucking sun, Y/N’, and you were basically forced into.

“For what it’s worth, honey, you look stunning tonight.” You feel Bucky’s chest rumble from his speaking from where you’re placed against him, and you give a light laugh.

“Thanks,” you return quietly, unable to really come up with anything witty to say. “I’m sorry I’m ruining tonight for you.” Your voice comes after a few moments of silence, but suddenly you’re pulled away from his body.

“Hey,” his hands are on your shoulders, “you are not ruining anything, doll. Parties ’ll come and go, but I don’t want to do it if it isn’t with you.” He tells you in earnest, and you feel an indistinguishable ache in your chest at his words.

Where did this man come from? It seems as though the perfect guy, one who respects you, one who doesn’t force you into anything, one who seems to care too much about you has just... fallen into your lap.

It almost seems too good to be true.

“Bucky…” You trail off, unable to find any words of gratitude at the moment.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can we just… lay down? Maybe watch a movie?” You ask.

“Of course we can, honey. Anythin’ you want.” He smiles brightly again as your mood seems to lighten a bit. “Do you need a change of clothes?”

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.” You can’t really bring yourself to look at him. You feel embarrassed that you’ve pulled him away from his own party. Although he constantly reassures you that he doesn’t mind, you’re still bashful.

“Here, honey,” he hands you the same garments from last night, “you look good in these.” He laughs, and you feel your cheeks turn bright red.

“I- I’ll be right back.” You give a tight smile and retreat to the bathroom.

While Bucky waits outside, he begins to get lost in his thoughts. He liked you. A lot. How did he get himself into this mess? He’s not stupid. He knows what he did to get here. And now it was looking really, really, stupid.

Unfortunately, there was no getting it out of it now, though. He could try and reason with the person he’d made a promise to, but he was stubborn. There was little to no chance he would be able to get out of this one.

But he thinks of it on the flip side. He’s been seen bringing you up to his room two nights in a row, and he knows how it makes both of you look.

For him, he looks like he’s keeping up with reputation.

Take a girl home.

Fuck her.

Leave it at that.

No one quite knew you on campus except for your friends, so they weren’t worried about you or who you were.

All that mattered was that Bucky Barnes was keeping up with his usual antics that were expected of him. There was nothing out of the ordinary for him, other than the fact that he wasn’t actually fucking you.

Bucky snaps out of his train of thought when he hears the bathroom door click open, his eyes meeting yours once again.

But his eyes quickly divert to your body, once again covered by his baggy clothing. You were watching his stare move down your body and felt a wave of insecurity wash over you.

You probably weren’t half as gorgeous as the girls he’s brought back here before. You knew what kind of girls guys like him preferred. Long, cascading hair, big, bright eyes, thin waists, legs that went on for what seemed like miles.

You just weren’t that.

It made you come back to the thoughts that had plagued your mind previously.

Where did Bucky’s interest in you come from?

Why was he suddenly feel the need to coddle you, take care of you, to reassure you?

Your concern was quickly washed away when Bucky settled in his bed, patting his spot next to him under the covers.

“You comin’?” He asks in a raspy, quiet voice that makes your knees wobble.

You don’t say anything while you situate yourself beside him.

“Bucky, can I ask you something?” You begin meekly, not making eye contact with him.

“Anythin’, doll. Somethin’ wrong?” He looks down at you in a worried gaze, and you shake your head.

“I just… what made you want to approach me? I- I know I’m not like those other girls you’ve been with before, and I can’t help but think that you… you want something else from me?” You explain with little ease. You feel bile rising in your throat as you speak because you can’t bear to think that Bucky really ulterior motives for all this time you’ve spent together.

You’ve only just met him, yet you feel like you’ve known him forever. You’re comfortable with him, more than you usually would be with a stranger, and it freaks you out.

“Y/N… can you look at me?” Bucky tilts his head down to try and meet your eyes, which is something you can barely do at the moment. “I want you to know, before this goes anywhere else; you are an amazing girl. I don’t know why it took me so long to talk to you, but I think you’re one the most genuine, kind, beautiful girls I’ve ever met. I… I know I have a reputation that precedes me, but you… you’re different.” He speaks so genuinely to you that you feel a slight sting behind your eyes.

“I… I never want you to doubt yourself ever again, doll. You’re perfect, just as you are. I’m sorry it looked like I was after anything else before.” Bucky finishes, and you can’t seem to find any words at the moment.

You just nod fervently, and then you feel yourself being pulled into Bucky’s large arms.

“Please, don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself again. You’re worth it.”

That night, you fall into the most comfortable and deep sleep of your life, wrapped safely in Bucky’s arms.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #fratboy!bucky #frat!bucky x reader #frat!bucky #frat!au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine

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novasheadcanons · 4 years ago

Text

The Brothers with a MC who’s presence is calming their sin

TW: None :3 SFW Fluff

Lucifer

-One word: Denial.

- He was always proud. And he found new pride in being the Avatar he is. He would never allow anything else to happen.

- But you wormed your way almost to easy into the eldest heart.

- You started bringing him tea and a snack in the evening, when the others were getting ready for bed and you knew he was still working. The amount of paperwork seemingly endless.

- He scroffed the first time you did this. He didn’t need a weak human to take care of him.

- He will absolutly deny how quickly he was looking forward to seeing you in the evening, a gentle smile your lips and delicious tea and his favourite cake in your hands.

- You humbled him. Soft whispers of comfort in the night when he was overworked, stressed and trying to ingnore painful memories. He allowes you to care for him when he previously would have strangled anyone who saw him like this. Now he’s questioning what he did to deserve you.

- He leans into your touch and reaches out for you in return.

- What was previously limited to when you two were alone starts to seep into his daily life with the brothers as well.

- He recrognizes his shortcomings and flaws more, but still struggles to act on it. But he becomes more forgiving. His brothers were sure he was deadly ill the first time they noticed.

- Lucifer will always be the embodyment of pride, but he becomes softer around the edges.

- He like to pull you on his lap and stroke over your cheek. It never fails to make him smile when you look at him with so much adoration.

- “You know I can’t let you go just yet, right?”

Mammon

-He thinks he’s dying. No joke. He has been googling his ‘symtoms’ 6 time now. - But ‘Help I’m the Avatar of Greed but I feel weird!’ doesn’t really bring forth anything useful.

- Mammon’s greed is something he never had any control over, and he still doesn’t. At least no concious control.

- It starts when you two are out and about. He made a new money making sheme and dragged you along, as usual, but now you two were sitting at this fountain for two hours already and he forgot why he dragged you in the first place.

- Mammon watched you laugh over something he said, but it was a nice laugh. A laugh that didn’t sting. You weren’t laughing about him. This was nice. He wanted more of this.

- When he actually managed to make money and he found himself looking for something for you instead of him, it dawned on him. This dork came home with 4 gifts for you and only one cool pair of shades for himself. Pff, he wanted nothing else anyway, why are you looking at him so surprised?

- He still gets the sticky fingers when he sees something he could sell to make money, but more often than not he placed it back after thinking about how you would not like him stealing and getting in trouble again.

- The Avatar of Greed is still well...greedy. But it changes. Mammon feels so fuzzy inside when you're happy, laughing, reaching out towards him. He finally noticed how much more he wants of this. No amount of grimm could outshine your smile when you look at him. You filled the emptiness he tried to stuff with grimm, clothes and jewelry.

- He hugged you close one night, not knowing you were still awake. You had been watching a movie together and decided that you would be sleeping here, to tired to go back to your room.

- He whispers quietly in your hair while pulling you even closer to his chest. “Ya are the biggest tressure I ever held...”

Leviathan

-absolutly oblivious to it. Like, this man does not notice at all.

- It also took a long time. His envy isn’t just jealousy. It is self-deprecation. It is comparing himself to anyone else and always comming to the conclusion that the other person is better.

- It only started when he accepted (for the most part) that you truly were his friend. That you didn’t secretly were planning a long-term joke on him.

- He had been ranting about a new fascination of his for a while now, while you were watching him being so in his element. He looked... happy maybe even a little confident? When he noticed how long he had been talking again he apologized but he didn’t look ashamed like he usually looked. More bashfull, but still smiling. And it didn’t take much convincing to have him continue.

- It was a lot of these little things. But more and more his envy lost it’s sharp edge that used to stab him in the back everytime he so much as thought about being proud of something he achived.

- You helped him becomming more at ease with himself. Your presence reminded him about all the things that were good in this life. Things others didn’t have.

- He realised this when he was complaining about how unfair something was when he looked at you. Patiently sitting there and holding his hand. With this loving look in your eyes.

- The widest smile you’ve ever seen from him streched across his face, lighting up his eyes and he squeezed your hand.

- “What am I doing? How could I complain about something so trivial when I have you by my side?”

- Cue both of you blushing and looking surprised. You couldn’t help but laugh a little when he hid his face in your shoulder when you hugged him. A blushing, blabbering mess

- He may be making progress but he would always be your Levi.

- There will be time where he falls back into his old harmfull thoughts but he knows you will be there to hold his hand. Just like Henry does for the Lord of Shadows!

Satan

-He caught on the quickest and welcomed it the slowest.

- Every since you moved in with them he felt weird when you were in the room. Probably because he was so sensitive. Satan picked up on everything in a room, so every little thing could set him off if he hadn’t learned how to quickly escape and rage in the safety of his room.

- But the more time he spend in a room, close to you, the calmer his mind became. He still picked up on everything but when he glanced at you, or when you softly touched his hand because you noticed his eyes tighten a little, a wave of calm washed over him.

- He did not trust it. At all. Were you influencing him with magic? Were you doing it on purpose? But if you were so powerful that you could calm the Avatar of Wrath with a single touch why were you always so close to dying??

- As usual for Satan he spend days researching, trying to find anything. Without success.

- He barged into your room, agitated by the lack of success. Satan had nearly kicked your door open. And froze when he saw you.

- You were laying your back, your legs streched out and propped up on the wall. Your D.D.D making contact with your face when he had barged in. He couldn’d help but to laugh a little. His previous anger forgotten

- Calmly he closed the door and joining you on the bed, where you had just set up and were rubbing your forehead. “The fuck, Satan?”

- He smiled softly, taking your hand in his so he could give the red spot on your forehead a little peck. “Let me make it better.”

- Maybe it wasn’t so important why and how. You calmed his wrath finally making place for something else.

- When his brothers catched on they would practially dump you on top of Satan whenever he worked himself into a rage. Works like a charm.

-He never said anything to you, but you knew. The look in his eyes told you everything.

Asmodeus

-For him the transission was so smothly he didn’t notices it for a while. He started complimenting you, without complimenting himself while doing it. He didn’t praise his outer beauty with nearly every single breath anymore. Still alot (Have you seen him?) but less desperatly. Asmo forgot to post his morning selfies twice in a row because he lazed around in bed with you.

- It irretated him to no end for weeks now. Something felt off and he had no clue what it was. It was driving him absolutly insane and his brothers were acting like they knew why, but noone would tell him anything!

- It was the third week now he didn’t feel like going partying to get praised, get eye-fucked by every passing person...

- Instead you two were in his room, wearing soft pjs and laying on his bed, shoulders pressed together

- You had grapped his hand while talking, gestureing wildly exited about something.

- It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy you talking, or wasn’t interessted but he was to mesmerised by your face, eyes shining with joy.

- Suddenly it just...clicked.

- “It’s you...!”

- He was sitting up, pulling you up with him. You rearly witnessed the Avatar of Lust looking at you so...seriously.

- “Asmo...is everything alright? Did I-“

- He had pulled you on his lap, arm tight around you, just holding you as close as possibly to him. You were all he ever wanted but tried so hard to deny. You loved him. Not the Avatar of Lust, but him!

- “I...I love you more than I love myself.”

-You calmed his desprate desire to be loved. To be seen.

Beelzebub

-It started after you made the pact with him, probably because you were spending more time with him now.

- probably the most noticable change out of the brothers.

- It also started of slow. A few less snacks in between classes, not 12 plates of food at breakfeast but 10

- The brothers noticed immediatly but he brushed it off. He was feeling fine. Better than fine actually. Beely felt this warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Smiling happily he took another bite, enjoying the taste more than usually before gulfing down more.

- The first time you two fell asleep in a bed together, you had made yourself comftable on top of him, he gently brushed some strands of hair out of your face. You had fallen asleep ontop of him. He was kind of hungry but you looked so blissfully happy...

- In the end he fell asleep, too. And he sleept through the night.

- Imagine his shock when he woke up before you, now really feeling hungry expecting it to be around midnight, as usual, but instead it was time for breakfest... When was the last time he didn’t get up in the night to eat?

- He is still eating an absolutly ungodly amount of food but he doesn’t feel like he is starving nearly every seconds of the day anymore. When he realised it was because of you, he picked you up in a bear-hug. Just holding you close and pressing his face into your neck. You swear you feel your neck getting a bit wet...

- “Thank you...Thank you so much...”

Belphegor

-after being freed from the attic he finally joined the ‘normal’ life in the House of Lamentation again

- the others had already spend a lot of time with you. So they figured it out by now already but they agreed not to tell Belphie for two reasons:

- 1. Nobody wanted him to be dissapointed should it turn out that it doesn’t happen for him.

- 2. They wanted it to be a surprise should it work.

- Belphie felt insecure for a while since all his brothers were already so close to you and he well... He wasn’t exactly starting of a clean plate here...

- So he occupied your time a lot for a while

- He didn’t notices his brothers small changes for that reason

- It started off by being more awake around you when you two had cuddle & nap sessions together. He shrugged it of to just wanting to get to know you more.

- Your presence made him being able to be awake for longer periods of time in the beginning, then when you forced him to participate in activities with Beel and you his energy didn’t drain as quickly as he was used to. When he slept, he didn’t sleep quiet as long but felt so much better after waking up.

- It made him suspicious. So he started watching his brothers more.

- After two month he confronted you at breakfeast.

- “What are you doing to me?” Okay, rude...

- Why were his brothers ginning so stupidly?

- After you spend a while explaining what you and the others figured out he leaned back, taken aback. A soft smile taking over his lips that he could not surpress fast enough.

- Later that night he made himself comtable on top of you, his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. He didn’t know what to do, but your lovingly petting his hair made him realise he didn’t need to.

- He still sleeps a lot, often and in the weirdest places, he will always be the Avatar of Sloth but this might not be so bad after all.

__________________________________________________________

Please reblog and like if you liked this! I would love to know what you think of this, so consider leaving a comment. This is my first try on HC for anything :3 My requests are open!

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nightinghoul · 2 years ago

Text

Pinky

CW: Pet Death, descriptions of painful pet illness and death

On Saying Good-Bye

My Pinky passed away from a sudden illness two days ago, and my heart is broken. She picked up a stomach bug that I guess would have been just an annoyance for a larger dog, but Pinky was four pounds. She had never been sick before, not as long as we’d had her, anyway.

Day one, she was throwing up and didn’t feel like eating, but she was walking around and seemed to be improving by the hour. My spouse and I have a lot of animal, and especially dog, experience. We knew that if we called the vet, they would say to keep her hydrated and bring her in if she threw up more, became lethargic, or if her respiration rate changed. That night, she was acting very lethargic, and we decided we needed to take her to the vet in the morning. I gave her some water, and put her by the bed to sleep (I was afraid if I put her in the bed, I’d roll over on her, or knock her off).

In the middle of the night, because I don't sleep well as a rule, I woke up and checked on her. She was not responding. Normally, she would growl and snap if anyone touched her, but she was just lying there. I tried to give her some water, but she was having trouble lifting her head to drink. I picked her up, and she had a seizure.

We drove to the 24 hour emergency vet, and they were closed. The 24 hour emergency vet is CLOSED on Wednesday mornings (12 - 10 AM). We called the one other 24 hour emergency vet. They were also closed for Wednesday morning. We didn't get the memo about not having pet emergencies on Wednesday mornings.

Now we were into Day 2. We waited for the vet to open at 7AM. When I walked in, they took her to the back immediately. By that point, she was totally unresponsive except for an occasional haunting wail like I’ve never heard a dog make in my life (and I worked in animal care for years.) They gave her pain meds and sedatives.

She had pancreatitis, which never has a very good prognosis (although I’ve heard of one case of a friend’s dog pulling through.) By noon, she was throwing brain clots, and having multiple strokes and seizures. Our vet is a darling, wonderful, hopeful person, and just kept coming up with the best case scenario. If we did this and this and this, maybe we could get her to the point where she would live a bit longer, but she would still have blood clots. As long as we got her to an emergency vet every time she had a blood clot related stroke, maybe they could save her (as long as it wasn’t a Wednesday morning.)

We didn’t talk about it for long. She was being tortured for a very slim chance to live a short, miserable life. It was time to let go.

I sleep a lot during the day, because I don't sleep well at night. I wake up a lot, whether I napped during the day or not. I've been like this a long time. Anyway, I have a lot of broken sleep throughout the day and night. So, right now, every time I wake up, the loss of our little dog hits me all over again. I go through a half-dream bargaining sequence. I realize death is permanent, and curse under my breath.

Pinky was a terrible dog. I refuse to let fading memory convince me that she wasn't just awful, because that was part of her appeal. She had the worst temper of any dog I've ever met.

I guess when I say awful, I mean difficult. She was also wonderful. I think she really wished she could snuggle and be sweet without getting angry. The fact that she was always working through that made me love her more, because I feel like she was trying really hard.

Like, when she would get upset, and I would say "Go to your growly bed!" She had a specific bed that she would go to and growl and be angry. Sometimes she would go there without anyone telling her, and if she was there, we knew not to bother her. The first year, I questioned our decision to keep her, time and time again. She bit me so hard with those sharp little razor teeth, so many times. She made me look so bad in front of strangers, but friends who got to spend time with her completely understood: she was complicated.

The house is so quiet without her. She was the main instigator of pandemonium in our household. Mealtimes, dogs barking down the street, doorbells - These things required thunderous acknowledgement. And, good lord, was she loud. The only thing louder than her bark now is her absence. I wish she had had a chance to fully heal from whatever it was that made her so angry. I wish she had gotten to live a normal lifespan. I wish didn't have to say goodbye all over again every time I open my eyes. You can spend a life-time loving and losing this way, and never get used to it.

I wrote a poem about her last year, so I'm going to share it here. Please don't judge my free verse!

https://poetizer.com/poem/2640600

#pet death #goodbye #i love my dogs #rainbow bridge

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago

Text

you’re the one that i want (part 12)

word count: 3k

angst, fluff, smut

(part 11) (series masterlist)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms ; @kpopnightingale ; @simpforhyunjin ; @89staytinyzen21; @lokicaramel ; @ttalgimin ; @sakura-uji ;

seonghwa knew this breakdown was coming.

he knew it was only natural, given the way you’d been reacting in the days leading up to this night. the last night before your parents came and got you tomorrow at noon. before you two were ripped away from each other and, in just a few weeks time, thrown back into the swing of classes.

you’d be dealing with new friends and a new school and a whole new neighborhood while he’d be dealing with living back at home with his dad. he’d inform his friends of what he did before they tell him all about the parties they went to, the girls they fucked and all the stupid drama he missed.

like any of it’s gonna matter when he’ll be plagued with the memory of you. the happy things like your breathy moans and smile and giggle that make him happier than anything he thought possible.

but he thinks the worst thing will be remembering your cries and whimpers tonight. the way the tears are building in your eyes and you’re trying so hard for him and yourself not to let them fall.

"i’m gonna fall!” you squeal, attempting to balance your feet on the board.

it was your second day of learning how to surf and had been nothing short of a disaster, seonghwa’s hand on the board as he assures that even if you do fall, it’s gonna be painlessly into water.

“that’s not really helping,” you grumble, his wet face smirking at you.

it amazes you, really, how the sun is shining down so brightly on him and there’s not an imperfection in sight. dripping blonde hair with a sharp jawline and shining eyes. you know you probably don’t look that nice, your face red and blotchy from the uneven burn as he smirks up at you in a way that makes you incredibly nervous.

“you get too caught up in your own head,” you hear him say, squinting at him with a slight pout on your lips.

“because i’m scared,” you tell him quietly.

and even though you were only talking about surfing, it felt like more at the time. you were scared of starting a friendship with him, scared of opening yourself up and being in his way because you can’t even imagine why he wants to be around you.

you didn’t know why he was doing that and that’s why you were scared. didn’t know why he’d look up at you with such an...intrigued look in his eye, like you were something to be curious about; what you see is what you get with you and that’s an extremely nervous, blabbering idiot.

“there’s no reason to be,” he says to you quietly, your eyes meeting and something heavy settles in your heart.

you also didn’t know what that feeling was at the time but you knew that you liked it. that even though you couldn’t quite make out what this boy wanted from you, you were gonna give him anything. even if it that was you and your already fragile heart.

“nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“nothing bad like that is gonna happen, baby,” he says against your head, listening as you tell him you’re scared of you both losing contact or interest over time. you sigh against him and nuzzle your face into his arm, watching the setting sun from your balcony.

he turns and takes your face in his hand, frowning when he sees the sad look in your eyes.

“i hate seeing you like this,” he mumbles, his thumb rubbing over your face gently.

it had been a good day prior to this, spending the morning down at the beach with the boys before eating lunch with them at the diner; you both even took them to the aquarium you had gone to all those weeks ago, where you couldn’t stop the memories from your first date playing through your head.

planning your second date accidentally, educating him on nemo and dory and crush and walking hand-in-hand through the nearly empty building.

that had been a day that could’ve been ruined, honestly, given the date’s shaky start. he could’ve taken you home to finish his business with those boys or you could’ve demanded to leave after overhearing what you did.

but you both stayed and that was the night you really thought you were falling for him.

when your nervousness slowly dissipated and you just knew he wasn’t gonna hurt you like everyone else in your life; because it seemed silly at the time but he really did calm you, the way he handled you with such care and allowed you to drag him around from tank to tank.

"why are you laughing?" he asks softly, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face as amusement laces into his voice.

"because you make me nervous," you admit, looking up at him. "more than usual."

a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth as he moves his hand away from you and puts it on the glass, watching that same clownfish that was swirling around yours move to him.

"dory's not scared of me," he says lowly, not even needing to see your face to know you look outraged and annoyed. "so you don't have to be."

but now with the night time approaching, you know it’s coming and you’re unsettled.

you’re trying so hard to be happy and you want to be but it’s hard not to think about tomorrow. it’s hard not to think about how your closet and drawers are packed back up in your suit case and in less than fifteen hours, you’ll be back in your car and going to a new house.

the thought brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes and you’re quick to let out a sigh, going up to wipe at them before seonghwa’s thumb flicks them away.

“did you not just hear me?” he asks sternly, the contrasting small, sad smile on his face causing you to giggle slightly.

“i’m sorry,” you whine, nuzzling your face back into him so he doesn’t have to look at you. “i just can’t stop thinking about it.”

and with that knowledge, seonghwa stands up and abruptly throws you over his shoulder. you let out a surprised yelp as you scream his name, squealing as he walks through your bedroom and down the stairs.

you pass your aunt and her friend’s who watch in amusement from the dining room table, their glasses full of wine and a cheese platter in the middle. you hear one of them compliment seonghwa on his strength and the shudder you feel go through him immediately makes a laugh bubble out of your mouth.

but the moment the warm night air hits your body and you sense seonghwa walking towards the pool, your laughs quickly stop.

“hwa, don’t you dare!” you squeal, hitting at his back and flailing in his hold.

but your voice only holds amusement and you’re giggling and that’s all he wants for tonight so he doesn’t think twice about flinging your clothed body right into the pool.

your body hits the cold water and you jump up to scream at him just to see him sitting on at the edge, his feet in the water as he looks at you with a smirk.

“are you kidding me!” you squeal, swimming over to him and splashing him violently.

“sorry, baby, but it had to be done.”

you jump up and out of the pool, your clothes dripping next to him and he’s about to ask what you’re doing when you run directly behind him.

“then so does this,” you say with a content smile, his loud groan when he hits the pool filling you with a sense of satisfaction.

he pops up and shakes out his wet hair, his tongue poking at his cheek as he looks at you sternly.

but he can only keep it for a few seconds because you’re smiling so bright and it tugs at his heart; that’s all he wanted to see tonight, you smiling and laughing and not crying into his shoulder.

so instead of pretending to be mad or chastising you, he holds out his arms and tells you to jump. you narrow your eyes at him because it feels like you’re a child learning how to swim but you do it anyway, landing perfectly in his hold as a tiny grunt leaves him at the impact.

“hi,” you say with a small innocent smile.

he rolls his eyes before grabbing you around the waist, your legs wrapping around his body before he dunks you back and gets your hair even more wet. you giggle and smack at him playfully, splashing water up at him before jumping off him and swimming away.

your aunt watches from the window as you two swim around, his chuckle and your whine of his name grabbing the attention of all of them.

the group of women watched you two progress over the summer, how your gazes turned softer and sweeter and how seonghwa would always have to touch you.

whether it be guiding you by the small of your back or having his arm around your chair; it was something that warmed all of their hearts, which was pretty amazing since almost all of them were, admittedly, bitter divorcees.

“they are so sweet,” one of the lady’s says, watching as you jump out of the pool followed shortly behind seonghwa. you don’t get very far before he catches you around the waist and picks you up, your squeal promptly followed by a splash.

“i know, he’s been here every night this week,” your aunt informs them.

she doesn’t mention the way she’s heard your soft cries when she’s out on the porch and you two are on the balcony. nor does she mention that after you fell asleep, seonghwa had come down and asked if everything really was okay for you at home.

“i know she’s your sister so i’m not implying anything,” he said over the table, the cup of chamomile tea she always offers him but he rarely drinks next to him. “but she’s so scared to go back to them and i...do they hurt her?”

she couldn’t control the way her eyes widened when she heard him ask that, the boy maybe mistaking it for an insult but not even bothering to apologize. because she saw it, the anger and disgust in his eyes that if she even thought you were being hurt and sent you back, he was gonna go ballistic.

“they’re assholes, seonghwa, i’ll be the first to tell you but i don’t think they would physically harm her.”

and those were her honest thoughts, she’d never think in a million years that they’d stoop that low and abuse you in a such a way. and a part of her hoped you would tell her, that if you were in danger and needed a safe place to stay, that you knew you could come to her.

the answer seemed to simmer the boy and he nodded his head, calming the thoughts that have also been invading him in the days leading up to your departure; he was just better at hiding his sadness over it than you and it showed itself in a different way.

his brain convincing him that something’s not right and that neither of you are gonna be okay without each other. but that’s absurd, he thought, you didn’t even know each other two months ago and now you need each other to survive?

but his heart pulling in his chest scares the shit out of him, preparing him for your separation and knowing that once you two are apart, he doesn’t fully know how he’s gonna react.

he’s never felt like this before. he’s never loved anyone and has never had to leave someone he loved; but he’s just hoping, praying, that he doesn’t react to this heartbreak like a fucking idiot.

“what do you think they’re gonna do?” another woman asks, sipping from her glass of wine as he looks at your aunt. “i think they could do long distance. look at their love.”

“oh, jesus christ rose,” the older woman says, throwing a cracker at the woman when she sees tears welling up in her eyes. “you are absolutely ridiculous.”

“young love is the best love!”

they look over to see you both back in the pool, your arms around his neck as you throw your head back and giggle. and everyone can suppose that you two are a clear cut case of young love:

feelings that developed incredibly fast but felt overwhelmingly strong, a desire to see each other each and everyday and never get sick of it, a tragic end where you two are gonna be pulled apart and put to the test to see just how real the past two months have been.

“of course i did, i haven’t lived under a rock,” seonghwa says, your face pulled into one of extreme shock as he tells you this whole time, he had known about finding nemo. that it’d been one of his favorite movies growing up and he only pretended not to know.

“but why!” you squeal, “you....you even kept confusing nemo and dory on our date!”

he rolls his eyes and brings his finger under you chin, pulling you close so he can peck you with a cute, chaste kiss. “because you were so cute telling me about it,” he mumbles lowly, feeling his smile against your lips as he recalls you going on and on about it. “how could i have stopped you?”

"i don't wanna leave, i don't wanna stay with them anymore. i don't wanna leave you and everyone else and go back to my stupid new house with them being there," you cry out like a child, feeling the relentless tears prick at your eyes again. "i'm gonna miss you, seonghwa. i feel so safe with you.”

"i'm right here, baby, i'm not going anywhere."

“baby, can i ask you something?”

you look up at him from where you lay on his naked chest, the both of you laying in your bed watching a movie. you’d taken a shower after you got out of the pool, one thing leading to another before his hand covered your mouth as he fucked up into you against the cold tile.

it had all started innocently, him washing your hair and brushing the conditioner through. you squirting the loofa with soap and wiping him down with soap, writing words and smiley faces into his back.

but then the inevitable seemed to happen when your mouths gravitated toward one another, lips parting and his tongue slipping in before you daringly dropped down to your knees.

it’d been a fantasy you were dreaming about, just dropping to your knees unexpectedly and taking him in your mouth. and it seemed as if it might’ve been one of his too because his hands grabbed at your wet hair and he threw his head back as quiet curses left his mouth.

and when you looked up at him, your tongue circling the tip before sucking him down, that was it. that’s what made him growl and pull you up, force you to jump and sit on his cock so he could fuck you right under the steamy flow of water.

the angle hadn’t been one you felt before and everything about it was remarkable, him hitting something inside you as he sucked hickies into your chest that made you scream and whine into his hand.

“what?” you squeak as you look up at him, the small smile and sweet, questioning glint in your eyes making him reach down and touch your face.

“is there a reason you don’t wanna go home? are you not safe there?”

because something about your words that day are still haunting him for some reason, seeing the way you transformed right back into that scared, nervous girl he first met in the presence of your parents. the way you would flinch away from him in the beginning and not be able to hold eye contact.

and he thinks it’s more than going to a new house and a new school.

it’s how you actively tell him your parents hate you and question why they had you, how you told him you don’t wanna leave this town and feel safe with him; because if that’s the case, then you need someone to be safe from and that doesn’t sit well with him at all.

the question makes your stomach sink and you immediately feel the need to defend or deflect. to ask him why he’d think such a thing and insist that of course you’re safe. that just because your parents are mean and snap at you doesn’t mean it’s a completely terrible environment.

and while you can’t tell him the truth, you can’t lie to him either.

“it’s...fine,” you say quietly. “they just say a lot of things that hurt my feelings and yell. but who’s parents don’t? it’s just....normal family problems,” you tell him quietly, blinking back the tears trying to form in your eyes because you don’t think being smacked and kicked and fearing for your life some nights is considered normal family problems.

he swallows the lump in his throat and narrows his eyes at you, his thumb caressing your face as he bends down and kisses your forehead softly.

you close your eyes at the feeling and remind yourself to bask in this for the rest of the night. the way it feels to be held and kissed and loved because you don’t know when it’s gonna happen again. if it’s gonna happen again.

“whatever they say, know it’s not true,” you hear him mumble against your head. “they don’t know how lucky they are to be able to see you everyday.”

those words leaving his mouth catch you off guard, any time he says something sweet like that making your heart flutter and tears prick your eyes. and he knows it too because he looks down at you and smiles, shaking his head before placing another peck on your nose and lips.

“please, baby, no more crying tonight.”

and you try for him again but it proves to be a failure, burying your head in his neck and allowing your wet, salty tears to fall on his skin. you try to control your breathing and sobs threatening to leave, neither of you commenting on the death grip you have on him.

“i’m gonna miss you,” you whimper against him. he lets out a humorless chuckle as he pulls your face back, moving you on your back so your wet, teary face is right in his sight.

he leans down and kisses the salty tears off your face, your nose scrunching because your face is wet and sticky from them; but he doesn’t care, he just wants them gone and you smiling for the last few hours you have left.

“i’m gonna miss you too, baby,” he says, “but i’m here now. and i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you bite down on your lip and nod your head, another tear breaking free when you pull him down so your lips meet in a kiss. he lets you take over this one, lets you put your hands on his face and pull him into you, part your lips on his and slip your tongue in as you completely take the lead.

he lets it happen the whole time until you’re undressed and under the sheets, memorizing every inch of each other’s bodies one last time until he’s thrusting into you. it’s a slower, steadier pace that makes you cry out, his hips rocking into you slowly so he can bring you to your high gradually.

he whispers that he loves you in your ear, that no matter what happens he’s always gonna love you because how could he forget the girl who completely changed his summer and turned him into a man he never thought he could be?

(part 13)

#eeeek #aha anyway...#y/ns aunt and her friends are the golden girls #and thats that #seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #ateez imagines #seonghwa series #seonghwa imagines

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago

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: Saturday 2 January 1836

8 10

12 5

No kiss A-‘s cousin came last night hard frost F27° at 10 at which hour breakfast over in ½ hour - Had Marian - she came to speak about taking Sarah (that lived with A-) in Sharpe’s place - Mr. Washington happened to come in at the moment and he was to speak to her on his return from Leeds on Tuesday if no message to the contrary in the meantime - Mr. W- to come on Friday to level for Listerwick drift and to level the new approach road - Had Holt - he had examined the Stump X Inn cisterns - plenty of water - no fault of Mawson’s that William Green had no water - some fault in the pipe - Holt will be here on Tuesday to measure the length of drift driven and the length of pheying to the coal - can do 2 yards a day of pheying working hard - from 11 about 12 stood talking to Marian in the north parlour and then in the drawing room - all agreeable - advised her keeping Sharpe a little longer (she had prepared her this morning for leaving here but said she would get her another place) and sending Jane to York to be under Dr Belcombes’ care - said I would write to Dr. B- in Jane’s favour - a little while with A- then out ½ hour (in the farmyard) till Mr. Jubb came about 12 ½ - I was not with him when he saw my aunt but he said she was considerably better - A-‘s pulse better - she is to put a blister between her shoulders tonight - the pills he is giving her are blue pill and pill galbanum, 2 to be taken every or every other night for a little while - the mixture of which a tablespoonful to be taken twice a day is bitter infusion of cascarilla with a little soda to correct acidity in the stomach - out again till came in to A- about 1 ¾ and at 2 got her off to walk to Cliff Hill and ride back - called en passant at Crownest and told Mrs. W- to tell Mr. W- not to speak to Sarah on Tuesday - then sat at Cliff Hill 20 minutes till 3 ½ and left A- I had not been at Cliff Hill of a month - thought Mrs. AW. looking very well - home about 4 - in the farmyard and about - the glaziers (from Firth’s) had come about noon - found the pipe laid and the water running into the farmyard trough - Robert Mann + 3 (Wood not there - still walling the cabin and it will take 2 or 3 days longer) had done the digging for the pipe and done a little at the drain from cowhouse to [main] drain - A- returned at 4 ½ - went in with her and got her some hot wine and water and saw her comfortably lain on the sofa - dressed - wrote the whole of yesterday - answered Mr. Robert Walker’s letter of yesterday and sent him a check on Hammersleys for the sum of £9.15.0 for the morning Herald from 31 December 1834 to 31 December 1835 - put my letter into the bag to ‘Mr Robert Walker 2 Jones Street Berkley square London’ - dinner at 6 - coffee - A- and I ¾ hour with my father and Marian - then sat with A- till went to my aunt at 9 ¼ - no! went down to Marian to take her gardener’s magazine and she kept me ½ hour talking about and to Jane who was with her about going to York and being under Dr. Belcombe’s care - then 25 minutes with my aunt till 10 10 - she talked very cheerfully and in a good strong voice - she is very much better and may rally again for some months? fine day - F24 ½° put A-‘s blister on.

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howareyanowwayne · 3 years ago

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Letterkenny Crack

This is a Mermaid AU you have been warned. pre-Wayne/Darry.

If you asked most of the good people in Letterkenny, they’d tell you that Wayne was without a doubt the toughest guy in town. A really good guy, just all around stand up; he kept to himself, but never avoided a polite chit-chat with neighbors or ag hall members. Ran his farm with ease and always put out a good crop, fought with honor and defended his own- that was all most people really cared to know about him.

He’d never really had a sweetie(except for Angie) and that goss would circulate every few years when someone decided to try their luck asking him to dance at the jamboree or sum’such. It never stuck, and people would find something else to talk about until another party came around and others would give it the old college try.

The best thing about Wayne, in most the town’s minds anyway, wasn’t just the good fights he put on or his honest-to-god good ole’ boy way of going about things- it was the lake that bordered the north side of his property. Like his Dyad had when they were kids, every summer Wayne opened the back driveway from noon to 4 or 5 and let people drive up in their trucks for a few hours of swimming. Most of the lake sat on the state-owned wildlife preserve that curled around the north and east sides of the farm, but they had a solid 3rd of it that was great for swimming and fishing, as long as people stayed respectful.

Wayne himself spent a good deal of time out by the lake, thinking or drinking. Always in the morning when there was no one about. Katy worried about him sometimes, especially after Angie’s cheated on him; when he’d disappeared and they’d found him, two days later passed out on the shore of the lake completely soaked through.

But Wayne was never one for many words, content to spend a good deal of time alone or with his dogs, and she understood. He had his own demons, and she trusted him to come to her when he really needed help.

But this isn’t a story about Wayne being alone, or not liking people that much(because as polite as he was, he really didn’t like most folks all that much), this is the story of how Wayne and Derry met.

One morning, long before chorin’ needed to be done, Wayne bolted upright in his bed. Whatever dream had woken him was already fading from his mind, leaving behind only a vague sense of wonder and alarm. He sat quietly trying to remember for a moment, but soon enough drew a blank. Rolling out of bed, he looked out his back window towards the lake, out of sight on the other side of the field. Wayne had a strange feeling, as he dragged on jeans and a button up, that something was happening.

Without realizing it he’d rushed out of the house, pulling a dart from his pack and lighting it, beelining for the lake with long rolling strides.

As he got closer to the edge of the property he could see little flashes of green light from over the hill- getting brighter as he cleared the corn field and making his alarm grow. Wayne hadn’t brought a flashlight, and now he was glad he hadn’t announced his presence- if there were skids partying on his property after dark, he’d send them running with their tails tucked between their legs.

He ran the last few feet up to the crest of the hill and stopped cold. Blinked a few hundred times, because what he saw didn't make any kind of sense.

There, sliding leisurely through the water on the bank of the lake was fucking mermaid. He couldn’t think of another word for it that was for gd sure- clearly the upper body of a man, no legs, just fish from the hips down. Wayne scrubbed at his eyes hard, blinking the water out and letting his peepers adjust. It was still there after, tail pushing water lazily, upper body reclined on the shore. Glowing, for god's sakes, biolights flashing a soft green and blue and lighting the water like some kind of scene from a fairy tail.

He didn’t even register his legs taking him closer until suddenly he was only a few feet away, and big, glowing green eyes flickered up to him.

Wide, luminous, and wet as a dewdrop, Wayne watched two sets of translucent eyelids flutter in shock before yellow pupils shrunk into slits of alarm. Even as everything in him screamed at him to flee he was stuck, making intense eye contact with this strangely-human looking fish.

Two things happened in an instant. The Mermaid’s face split like a snake’s, mouth too wide and full of sharp teeth. Messy wet curls flew about his head as he flipped, hissing and backing away from the farmer faster than a deer in headlights.

Wayne stumbled back from the bank and slipped as loose sand and clay gave way, landing him right in the water with a splash. The hissing, barking sound continued as the hick threw his arms over his head and clenched his eyes shut. Lights flashed under his eyelids and his ears rang.

After a few long moments of heart pounding panic, the farmer stopped hearing hissing and a warm weight moved behind him. He opened his eyes to find the mermaid only a few inches from him. Wayne wasn’t the best at reading people, but he’d say it looked curious- mad as a snake, teeth barred and body tense, but there was a confused tilt to its head, eyes wide and searching.

“Hw’re ye n’w?”

And if that bomb didn’t take him out just a little. Wayne was sitting chest deep in freezing lake water, at four in the morning, tangled up with the canadian creature of the black lagoon and it was fucking speaking to him. He raised his head to meet those glowing green eyes again, took a deep shivering breath and said.

“Oh not so bad.” Lies. He was very overwhelmed right now.

Now that Wayne had a chance to see it up close, it was hard not to stare. Other than it’s eyes, which had no whites and shined like emerald fuckin’ gemstones, the top half of it looked just like a scrawny, less hairy dude maybe a little younger than Wayne- wiry and muscular, smaller by a bit, with a mop of curly wet hair that hung around it’s face and stuck to it’s neck. Freckles and a scale or two decorated it’s body, everywhere that could be seen, pale skin making the seamless transition to a fully green-scaled tail somewhere around the hip bones. There were little fins that Wayne thought might be for steering, on his elbows, wrists and sides; they were laying flat against his body now.

“S’rry.” It wheezed, and Wayne couldn’t help but wince; that was certainly not a voice meant for english, that’s for sure. But the fish continued anyway. “M’ Derry.”

“I’m Wayne.” It was only polite to introduce yourself. “I know.” Unless you were introducing yourself to a creepy mermaid, apparently. Wayne gave Darry an utterly unamused look and said- “Wish you weren’t so fuckin’ awkard, bud.”

When those words left Wayne’s mouth Darry lit up, literally, the entire rainbow and then some bathing the water around them in a halo. Darry pressed up against Wayne’s chest, hands sliding lightly up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

“A’right, bud. No awkward.”

Wayne almost choked when, as the words left the merman’s mouth, his head dipped down, teeth and lips grazing sensitive skin through fabric. He heard Darry take a deep inhale, chest rumbling like a cat.

“Take about 30% off ‘er there, Derry.” Wayne lifted his hand slowly to pat the merman’s arm and earned himself a toothy smile. Felt slimy as the bottom of the lake, for sure, but his hand wasn’t bit off and his new pal(?) didn’t even flinch, so he counted that as a win. Darry was a freaky lake monster, but Wayne could tell already that the guy was softer than 12-ply toilet paper. Even if he had a mouth full of lethal chompers.

“Now I’m gonna freeze if I stay in here any longer, so you better let me up.” Darry whined, all the anxiety and tension returning to him in an instant. His clawed hands tightened on Wayne’s shoulders.

“Wayne, don’ tell. Please.” Those huge eyes pinned Wayne with a pleading stare. “ ‘m a secret. No tell ‘nyone.”

Wayne rubbed Darry’s arm again, thinking it might calm him down some. “O’ course not. It’ll be our secret.” He paused, looking out over the water and then back to Darry. You didn’t meet a mermaid every day, that was for GD sure- and technically, Darry was his neighbor. It was always polite to maintain good relationships with your neighbors. “And if you like, I’ll come back and visit ya. That’s my house right over there.” He pointed.

That got Darry smiling again. Wayne heaved himself to his feet, dripping wet. The merman pulled away as he stood, eyes following the line of Wayne’s form as he straightened and peeled off his soaking flannel with a shiver. Playful hands tugged at his ankles, but didn’t drag him back down.

“Alright. See ya, Dar.” And with that Wayne tore his eyes away from his new friend, trudged up the bank toward the field and the house beyond it. He felt eyes stay steady on his back until he’d crested the hill.

#letterkenny #unbeta'd #wayne/darry #crack fic #not on ao3 yet idk if ill continue it

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cloversweets · 5 years ago

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a cozy morning

you and raihan (and maybe flygon, too) share a domestic, cuddly morning together.

pairing: raihan x reader

genre: pure marshmallow fluff

notes: read on ao3! my first proper reader insert fic!!! kicking it off right with some raihan fluff <3 i hope everyone enjoys... let me know what you think! (psst... requests are open!)

You’re drowsy when you first wake up, and it takes a long while for you to pull yourself out of the warm, comfortable haze of sleep.

Everything around you comes into focus slowly; first, it’s the hustle and bustle of traffic outside the bedroom window, distant enough that it’s comforting rather than startling. Then it’s the heavy weight pressing your feet into the comfortable mattress, and the slow, steady breaths of whatever Pokémon is using you as its own little pillow. Finally, once you start to really rouse yourself from your sheets and attempt to clear your sticky eyes, you start to feel the weight of the warm, strong arms around you, pressing you into an even warmer chest.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Raihan says, his voice tickling your ear, and you grumble back the best approximation of a greeting you can muster. He chuckles, and you wriggle your shoulders, not appreciating being laughed at so early in the morning. Well. Maybe early in the morning.

“Wha’s th’ time?” you mumble, finally making an attempt to wake up a bit more - not that turning over to snuggle further into Raihan’s firm chest is much of an attempt, but still. It’s a bit of a fight as the weight on your feet doesn’t budge a bit, so you think it counts as hard work.

Raihan’s hand moves to your hair, stroking it back from your face. “It’s almost 12 in the afternoon,” he says, laughter in his voice, and you feel his chest shaking in response to your groan. “I woke up hours ago, you know.”

“I guessed,” you grumble, shifting to peer up into his face. “You were training, right?”

He hums in agreement, his eyes moving between you and his Rotom Phone. “I was up and at it at 7am,” he says, and you can see his mouth twitch when your brows furrow. “I didn’t want to disturb you, though. You’ve been working hard lately, Champion.”

You sigh, shrugging a little. This is the first day off from interviews and press releases and autographs and whatever else in a while, but you don’t want to get too lazy - only because you’ll make sleeping until near-noon a habit. “Wake me up next time,” you reply, your voice muffled by his shoulder. “We can train together. Anyway, you’re back in bed now, hm?”

Raihan pulls away from the Rotom in front of you, meeting your eyes with a wink. “Well, how was I supposed to resist? Coming in from such hard training to see you, snuggled up with my pillow in our bed, all alone - what man could?”

You shake your head harder with each word he says until you’re almost dizzy, laughing giddily regardless. “Stop it, you cheesy weirdo,” you scold, but his arms just wrap around you tighter, making you giggle. He pulls you in close enough to peck you on top of the head, and you admit defeat and shuffle further into his warmth. “Anyway, training! Wake me up next time, and we can go together.”

“Sure,” Raihan agrees, easy to please. “I got some cool training shots today, you know.”

You shift to sit up to look at his Phone, but move quickly enough that you disturb what turns out to be Raihan’s sleepy Flygon. He chirps at you from the end of the bed, annoyed that you disturbed his post-training nap, before he rolls over onto his back, showing off his belly expectantly and waiting for the apology rub he knows is coming. As you lean forward, Raihan takes the opportunity to rub your bare back where the quilt has slipped down, and you giggle a little.

“Lean forward and show me?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder. Raihan is already watching as you pet Flygon’s soft underbelly, and the warmth in his eyes has your face flushing under the attention.

He does as you say, though, and leans in until his bare chest is touching your back. “Of course,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder as his Rotom Phone flies from his hand to hover before the two of you. You ‘ooo’ and ‘aaah’ dramatically at the appropriate times, giving Raihan cheeky looks every now and then as the pictures progress to him looking a little sweaty in his casual fitness gear, showing off the lithe muscles his heavy hoodie usually hides.

“Like I said,” he says after a while of teasing one another, Rotom still flicking patiently through the who-knows-how-many pictures he’d taken at training. “You’ll have to come training with me soon. You’ll also have to help me choose some pictures to post, yeah?”

“Me?” you ask incredulously, pausing your strokes on Flygon’s belly. You’re so shocked you don’t even realise until his back paw taps your leg, giving you a passive aggressive reminder to keep up your petting. Making decisions on Raihan’s socials were, relatively speaking, a big deal. “Wow, you’ve never let me pick before.”

“Well, I didn’t mean from these,” Raihan says, and you can’t help but pout, opening your mouth to scold. Raihan stops you quickly, though, pressing a finger to your lips. “Ah-ah. I mean some pictures of us training, Champ.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice muffled by the finger still on your lips. “You wanna post something with me?”

Raihan’s grin grows sharp and cheeky, and you know that look on his face means he’s about to lay the flirting on heavy. “Well, there’s no better way to show off than by posting on social media about it, right? Plus, can you imagine the clout I’d get by posting a picture of Galar’s Champion alongside Galar’s most popular, handsome gym l-”

Your brow furrows further, and Raihan’s grin grows sheepish.

“Sorry, I misspoke,” he says, sugary sweet and totally sucking up to you. “I meant, Galar’s most popular, beautiful, amazing, wonderful Champ-”

You shake your head, finally pushing his finger from your mouth. “Okay, baby, that’s enough.”

Raihan snickers a little, but snakes an arm around your tummy and pulls you flush against him. You hum, leaning into him. Flygon makes a displeased noise again, but gives up trying for attention, snuggling back down into your comfy duvet.

“So? What do you say?” Raihan asks, and his voice against your ear makes you shiver. “Wanna do a little photo shoot with me, sweetheart?”

You hum contentedly. “It’s a date, pretty boy,” you eventually agree, reaching back to ruffle his hair, free from his hood for once. “But there’s something to agree on first.”

“What’s that?”

“We stay in bed all day today.”

Raihan laughs, leaning in to press his nose against yours. “How could I ever say no to that?”

“Another thing,” you add, watching his pretty eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Of course.”

“I get to be little spoon.”

Raihan pulls away at this, scoffing. “No, that’s not fair.”

“But you’re always little spoon!”

#pokemon #pokemon scenarios #pokemon imagines #raihan x reader #raihan imagines #fic #fluff #pokemon swsh #pokemon raihan #raihan #swsh imagines #swsh headcanons #ahhhh im so nervous TT

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theheartsmistakes · 4 years ago

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The Last Night Part XIV

(A/N at the end)

Parts I-XIII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII Part XIV

James and Matthew were hovering outside the Devil’s Tavern, which presented an august Georgian facade to the mundane eyes and was the site of many a municipal meeting and festivity. Or rather, as Matthew acknowledged, James was the one hovering, conspicuous in his anxiety, while Matthew leaned against the inn’s front wall, smoking a cheroot and gazing upward in the annoying way he did when he was overcome with boredom.

The Devil’s Tavern was the only place left in London that none of their parents knew anything about. Not even Will Herondale knew about his son’s inauspicious lease in the tavern and would therefore be the safest, most logical place for them to conduct their research.

“What time did you tell them to be here?” asked Matthew, still musing at something in the sky. “I do wish you’d stop fidgeting.”

“I told them noon,” said James. “But Christopher is not the most reliable man we know.”

“He is the most reliable when something is in need of exploding or a new specimen needs to be collected,” said Matthew. “Perhaps next time tell him that you have an enchanted box that needs to be unlocked.”

“Does this feel wrong to you?” asked James. “We’re supposed to spend this hour patrolling and we’re hiding in The bloody Devil’s Tavern from our parents.”

“This is, in a sort, patrolling,” said Matthew. “We’re conducting research on how to locate your demon granddad and kill the bastard, but in order to do that, we need to find a way for you to access the shadow realm again or it’s all for not. So, we’re doing our job, just not in the way we’re expected to be doing our job.” Matthew slapped James’s hand away from his hair. “I said stop fidgeting.”

“If we’re caught…” James started but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. While the four of the Merry Thieves agreed that the risk was worth the reward of defying Charles Fairchild’s newly established rules, the risk still hung over James’s head like an anvil waiting to drop. He’d reassured himself time and time again that ordinary chivalry demanded action and that his indignation had more to do with Charles’s complete need for control than the punishment being fair or responsible.

“Oh for Raziel’s sake, we won’t be,” said Matthew. “We’re trained in being discreet, remember?” Just then the door to the Tavern burst open and a head attired with goggles, poked out.

“I don’t see them,” said Christopher before he turned his head to where James and Matthew were standing. He removed his goggles up into his hair, wiped his face with an emerald scarf, and shoved the door open with his shoulder. “What are you two standing out here for? We’ve been waiting for you in the Devil for nearly twenty minutes. Thought the parentals got a hold of you.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?” asked an exasperated James. “We’ve been waiting… never mind. Get inside, quickly, before someone notices us.”

“I must admit, I’m a bit tempted to see how red my brother’s face can get if he catches us deliberately disobeying him,” said Matthew as the sound of boots clambered up the wooden stairs.

“This coming from the one having a crisis over the thought of being strapped to his brother’s desk,” said James over his shoulder. Christopher laughed ahead of them.

“That was before I witnessed my mother make him cry after threatening to strip us of our marks,” said Matthew.

James paused. “She made him cry?”

“Weep,” said Matthew. “I believe the words ‘yes, Mummy’ were said at least twice.”

“You lie!” said Christopher ahead of them.

“I exaggerate, Kit,” said Matthew as they reached their door, “but I never lie.”

The door burst open like a tightly wound jack-in-the-box as the three boys burst into the room. James walked across the room and took a seat at a small table in the window nook while Matthew made himself comfortable on the long sofa. Christopher met James at the table and busied himself with turning over the pages of an old book.

“Where have you lot been?” asked Thomas from the couch. “We’ve been waiting for you for twenty minutes.”

“They were outside,” said Christopher, examining the pages of the book.

James stood, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to expose his forearms, as he walked to the center of the room. “All right, we have only forty minutes left of our patrol to come up with a plan on how to access the shadow world without the use of my useless power.”

“How’s that coming along?” asked Thomas.

“Am I in the shadow realm?”

“No.”

“That’s how it’s coming along.” He pressed his back against the wall opposite Matthew, Thomas, and Christopher. “It’s never felt like this before. Everything that usually works, isn’t. Chaos. Danger. Pain. Isolation. Even when I feared Lucie and Cordelia were trapped there, I still couldn’t push past this invisible wall.”

“Invisible wall?” asked Christopher.

“Yes,” said James. “That’s what it feels like, an invisible wall blocking me.”

“Perhaps you need more fiber in your diet,” grinned Matthew.

James squinted at him, unsure if he was joking, and decided to carry on without acknowledging the statement. “We need to start researching a way into the shadow realm that doesn’t involve my ability.”

The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor turned everyone’s attention towards Christopher as he shoved himself away from the table. “I’ve read about this,” he stated, excitedly. “Pockets. Uh… uh… portals they were called, but they’re like pockets in our realm to other realms. You experienced something like it at the cemetery which allowed Cordelia to access the realm after you and for Matthew and Lucie to draw you back.”

“Brilliant,” said Matthew. “Now that we have an access point, let’s come up with a plan to kill the bloody bastard.”

“Well,” said Christopher, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We don't necessarily have an access point.”

“You just said—“

“Allow him to finish, Matthew,” said Thomas, looking like a giant inside the low ceiling room. “Go on, Kit.”

“They move.”

“The pockets?” asked James.

“Yes,” said Christopher, his almost sapphire eyes, enlarged by his lenses, glanced around at the faces staring back at him. “They appear in a spot but only remain for 12 to 24 hours.”

“Brilliant,” grumbled Matthew and slipped lower on the couch.

“Is there any way to track these pockets?” asked Thomas, while watching James stand and pace the floor.

“I cannot recall,” said Christopher. “I read about them in the forbidden section of the library at the academy. I was researching alternative methods of travel and found an extensive research that featured combinations of dimensional manipulation.”

“In English, if you would please,” said Matthew, lolling his head to look at Christopher.

“I am speaking English,” said Christopher. “If you are requesting for me to simplify it for you, then be plain about it.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as Thomas asked, “Do you remember what book it was?”

“Of course.”

“Can it be found in a public library?”

“No.” The boys released a communal exhale.

“Well,” said Matthew as he picked a piece of lint on his jade trousers. “It appears we’re left with piss but no pot.”

“Not necessarily,” said Christopher, stepping forward into the center of the room. His eyes locked on his feet the way they often were when deep in thought. “There is someone who might be in possession of a copy or at least has the authority to access one.”

James and Christopher met eyes as they both came to the same solution at exactly the same moment. A smile curved on James’s lips and he chided himself for not thinking of it sooner before allowing disappointment to consume him.

“Are you going to leave us in suspense?” asked Matthew.

“Magnus,” said James. “We’re going to see Magnus.”

. . .

The girl who came through Cordelia’s bedroom door the next morning did not seem strong enough to carry the tray on which rested a cup of tea in a florid porcelain cup and a heavy jug of hot water for the washstand. She was hollow in the cheeks and narrow shouldered, her hair pulled back mercilessly into a single braid. Her dress and apron hung loosely, and her boots looked comically laced to such scrawny ankles.

She hummed to herself as she set the tray on the floor, transferred the jug to the washstand and brought the tea, her lips clamped in concentration to keep the cup from wobbling on its gilded saucer.

“Hello,” said Cordelia, her voice rough from lack of use. “Can you please tell me where I am?”

The girl looked up, her eyes expanded as the tea fell from her hands and shattered on the floor.

Cordelia gasped, as the girl let out a scream so loud, she nearly had to cover her ears. “SHE’S AWAKE! OH BY THE ANGEL, MISS CARSTAIRS IS AWAKE! COME SEE…”

Cordelia grimaced as she braced herself on her elbows and lifted herself up. Every muscle felt as if she’d went to bed sore and hadn’t used them again for several days. The light in the room seemed aged, as if it were late afternoon or early evening. She was used to the pale dawn hours, the birds’ thin choir accompanying her waking thoughts. Curiously, she did not feel guilty for sleeping so late into the morning. The room felt familiar to her. Not the emerald green wallpaper with gold etchings or the leather winged armchair, nor the desk with the stack of books resting closest to the window. A smell in the air reminded her of something. Wherever she was, she felt safe and glad to be there.

“CARSTAIRS IS AWAKE… HURRY! QUICK!” the girl’s voice carried down the other direction of the hall along with the shuffling sound of her absurd boots.

Cordelia shifted to swing her legs out from under the heavy covers when a sharp pain in her side stole her breath.

“Best to stay put,” said a familiar voice by the door. “Until one of the Brothers gets here.”

“Alastair,” cried Cordelia. “Finally, a familiar face. Where am I?”

“The London Institute,” said Alastair, as he stepped into the room in white pin striped pajamas. A wooden crutch tucked under his left armpit as he hobbled on a bandaged foot towards her. “Where we’ve been for the last week or so.”

“Alastair,” said Cordelia, looking at his leg. “What’s happened to your leg?”

“Broke it in three different places after being thrown through the air by that demon.” The bed dipped as he sat down beside her. “Don’t fret, sister, it’s nearly healed. The Brothers want me off it while the bones properly set. I should be good as new by next week. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” She placed her hand on her rib cage and found an extra layer of padding beneath her nightgown. “Week? You’ve said we’ve been here for the last week?”

His dark eyebrows curved in concern as his eyes looked over her face. “Cordelia, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Cordelia thought about the last memory her mind could conjure. The picture looked muddy and weak in her mind. She’s a young girl running through a patch of daisies on a cliff’s edge, but that couldn’t be right. She’s a woman grown now. Another image of London through a carriage window as the moist air off the Thames hit her face. Ice cream dripping down her hand. Dancing under seductive lights with Cortana. James’s hands on her face as he kissed her on a desk. James kissing Grace. Saying goodbye to James.

“I left,” said Cordelia, closing her eyes to stop the memory. “We left, together. We were going to Alicante.”

“Yes,” said Alastair. “Do you remember what happened after? Do you remember the attack?”

“Attack?” asked Cordelia. “No, I don’t remember any attack. What happened?”

Alastair placed his on top of hers. “Maybe we should wait for Uncle to arrive.”

Cordelia gripped his hand in her own. “Alastair, what happened? What attack? Is everyone all right?”

He opened his mouth to answer when footsteps filled the hall and a chorus of people filtered in through the doorway. A sobbing Sona pushed ahead of everyone and enveloped Cordelia in a hug. Her mother felt weak, frail underneath Cordelia’s hands, she could feel the bones protruding from her shoulders and the bumps of her spine through the thick fabric of her dress. Her shoulder bone bumped Cordelia’s chin as she peered over it to see her Uncle Jem, dressed in his robes and quiet as a statue against the wall. In front of him stood Tessa Gray beside her husband Will. She watched the doorway, hoping and dreading, for James to walk through.

When he did not, she closed her eyes to stop the burn behind them and the pit that grew ever wider inside of her stomach.

“My darling, are you all right?” Sona asked, caressing Cordelia’s cheeks and hair. Cordelia noted the hollowness in her mother’s cheeks.

“I think so,” said Cordelia. “Alastair was just telling me about an attack?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” said Cordelia and looked to her Uncle. “I don’t remember anything past leaving the Institute with Alastair for Alicante.”

“It’s not uncommon for some memory loss to occur after the sort of head injuries she endured,” said a quiet voice inside of her mind, but everyone else seemed to hear it too as they all turned to Brother Zachariah. “With some rest and recollection of events, the memories may return to her.”

Sona sat on the bed beside Cordelia, their hands still joined. “You were attacked by a demon. It poisoned you with a barb in your rib cage. When Lucie and James found you, you were nearly dead from your injuries.”

Cordelia pressed her hand harder against her ribs until she felt the sharp pain of a recent injury under the pressure. “Why did it attack our carriage? Demons don’t normally just attack a random carriage.”

“We were hoping that you could tell us,” said Will across the room. “We’ve tried to locate it, but it left no other traces of itself except for the attack against you and your brother. No other sightings. No suspicious activity. Alastair can only recall up to the point of being thrown by the thing, but you were still conscious at that point. We thought maybe you killed it before succumbing to your injuries, but the lack of demon blood at the scene suggests otherwise.”

Cordelia closed her eyes and attempted to stumble through her memories again. She recalled arriving with Alastair to the Herondale manor. Alastair walking her to the door with an umbrella to shield her from the pouring rain. She was trembling at the thought of what she was about to do, of what she was about to lose. Alastair offered to go in with her, but she declined.

She couldn’t recall who answered the door or how she got up the stairs to the library where James often hid away from the world in the comfort of his father’s collection of books. She couldn’t recall knocking, but she remembered him answering the door and the orange glow of the firelight that matched the color of his eyes. She remembered the relief those eyes when it was she he opened the door to.

She could vaguely remember the words that were said, or when she left him, or finding herself back in the carriage with Alastair, but the look in his eyes when she said goodbye would remain with her forever.

“No.” She cleared her throat. “No, I’m sorry. The last thing that I remember is leaving here after saying goodbye to James.”

“It’s all right,” whispered Sona as she stroked Cordelia’s hair. “You’ve only just woken up. Perhaps after you’ve had something to eat and talked with Lucie, or James, something will return to you.”

The feeling of something she needed to do sparked at the mention of her old friend. She needed to talk to Lucie.

“Lucie stepped out for the morning,” said Tessa, eyeing Cordelia sympathetically, “but she’s due to return any moment. She’ll be overjoyed to know that you’re awake.”

“And James?” Sona asked.

“On patrol,” answered Will, with a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “He won’t be back until this evening.”

Cordelia looked away, at her brother’s bandaged leg, at the tear in the hem of her nightgown, at the rune etched into the top of her bare foot, as the memories of her last conversation with James crashed into her.

“I wanted so badly to marry you,” she said. “But a year with you, as your wife, is not possibly long enough.”

The thought of speaking to James after their last conversation left a stone in Cordelia’s stomach, but perhaps it was for the best if she were to be staying in London while they both mended. If any one in the room knew of what transpired between James and Cordelia that last night, they weren’t letting on. Rubbing at the wound on her ribs, she searched the faces around her and found only concern and sympathy looking on at her. A wood pigeon, always the cello in the orchestra of birdsong, gave out its low double coo from the open window, like a beat from a large drum, which began to vibrate in her chest, and she thought it would have been very pleasant just to have remained asleep.

(Author’s Notes: Hello again everyone! I’m back. I hope you all are doing well. It’s been truly a strange couple of weeks dealing with the aftermath of the death of my beautiful niece (God, that will never get easier to say or write), but we are mending as a family and working towards moving forward through the grief. I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with my sister and my nephew, just trying to keep them busy, but the past few weeks have settled down a little bit allowing me a chance to write and get back into a few projects that I have in the works. Thank you all for the kind words, and well-wishes, and your patience. I’m really excited to be back writing and posting again. I hope you enjoyed this installment. If you did please reblog so others can enjoy it too, please give it a like, hit me with a lovely comment, and follow along with me. Next installment is coming Sunday 9/6.)

#the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of gold #The Last Night #jordelia fanfiction #james herondale #Cordelia Carstairs #Matthew Fairchild #lucie herondale #christopher lightwood #thomas lightwood #grace blackthorn #jesse blackthorn #will herondale #jem carstairs #tessa gray #the last hours #fanfiction

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jt-artsandfics · 4 years ago

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So I don't knwo if anyone will actually ever read this. Maybe if I post it one day but who knows. But hi.

I'm Julian. T in a 21 year old transgender aboriginal guy. from the small town of G.H.M Austraila. And this is my life story.

I was originally born Tareena with a different middle and last name. July is my birth month. And I was born in 2000. I was a very sick baby my mother was in labour for 36 hours with me. I am her first born.

I got really sick becuase I had fluid in my lungs, I was lucky that I survived, But I did. I don't remember much of my younger childhood other then my parents fighting. My father was my mother's drug dealer back in high school. And she was daughter of the local police chief.

I remember my first ever day at school. I was bawling my eyes out and I had the most horrendous shade of red lipstick smeared on my lips.

That was the year I met my best friend for life/my brother from another mother. His name is Ben. He was the only one I really liked at school most of the other kids didn't get along with me. But I had him.

He has been there for me thought everything. When I had just turned 7 my aunt and uncle got married. It was a beautiful wedding. But if only I knew what it entitled. That was the same year my parents broke up and more.

That was the year alot of stuff started. The sexual abuse and molesting from my uncle. I still remember it all very vividly to the point I can walk though one go the buildings today and point out exact spots where he would hide with use to touch us.

I was lucky, my cousin walked in on us when my uncle was going to go further then he normally did. If it was for him at that time I most likely would have been raped.

I didn't really understand but I knew something wasn't right. He use for make us watch porn with him and it still makes my skin crawl.

I like to think things work thought karma and luck. One day I stayed home from school becuase i wasn't well had. Avery bad fever. And mum had to work. (She worked 6 jobs to support three kids after her and my father divorced.) She had left the Tv on for me and I was skipping thought channels. A really pretty actress who I don't knwo the name of came onto a talk show, and I watched it. She takes about what had happened to her when she was 10 playing as a child star of a show.

She shared what had happened with her producer. How he black mailed her and sexually assaulted, abused and raped her over the years she was their. She talked about she wish she had the courage back them to tell someone. And that if she could be the courage for someone else suffering then it means what she went thought would mean something.

It hit me hard and I believe she gave me the courage to do what I did. It scared the shit out of me. But one day I was told by my mum I had to go and stay at my uncle's for the night and I was terrified. I tried talking my way out of it by asking to go to friends places but in the end I couldn't.

My mum asked me why I really didn't want to go and if something had happened. I told her not to be mad at me and told her what my uncle had been doign to us. I told her about how he's make us strip down and lay on a bed so he could look over us like we were fucking meat. And I let it all out to her.

She was horrified. Had to calm me down and ask me if what i was saying was true. I told her it was and front there alot of shit happened that day. My mother nearly killed 'Darren' she had to be locked with us at the police department while they talked with my sister and I.

But we were too young and didn't know how to explain everything. If their is one thing I can tell you is teach your children the real name a of their genitals otherwise police won't do anything.

It was a big battle trying to get him charged my mother wanted him locked away. But sadly nothing every came of it.

We got older and I ended up spending more time with my great grandparents. My great grandfather was my world we shared a birthday of a sort with his a few days before mine. I'd see him when ever we could.

School got harder after my nana passed away. And I took up Catholicism. (Not the best choice on my part) I was 12. I did my communion and such. But after that mygrandfather moved closer and I used to spend every school after noon with him watching old john Wayne and black and white movies.

He would tell me stories of his child hood and it some something I loved.

Once I got to high school my mental health and physical health deteriorated quite quickly. I had a really creepy boyfiend who was year 11 when I was year 8. After i broke up with him he started stalking me until my younger brother and mum got involved.

After that I cut ties with alot of my friends. I only had a small group. I picked up smoking with the stoners behind the science block and hall. They were chill and let me be me. But weed only helped so much. At first I thought I wa broken. All the other 'girls' were talking about how they were having sex, had boyfriends and such and I felt so out of place. At friend I thought it wa becuase of what 'Darren' did to me.

But then I met the coolest girl at school and my first girl crush. She had dark black hair cut almost buzzed she work rings and necklaces and didn't give a shit about the school code.

She was the one who taught me girl can like girls same as guys can like guys. I hung out with her all the time. And then one day she just stopped to school I felt like I didn't belong.

I got really depressed in my next few years. Alot more smoke. I lost 3 animals I had since childhood in 3 months. It messed me up bad and then we moved again.

I was still at the same school. And that we sheen I started my friendship up wirh a girl called 'Sam'. She was my best friend for long time. Becuase at that time Ben had gotten a girlfriend. One I didn't get along with at them time but it wa becuase I thought she was a popular kid and that she was going to take my best friends away from me.

I was very unstable. I just selfharmed but not in ways that people could tell. I used to smash rocks into my head and burn my hands and feet with lighters. It made me feel more alive at the time.

It got worse once I came home with my now cat. He was 3 weeks old and I was feeding him milk off my pinkie. My step dad at the time lost his hair and fucked my mental health up even worse. I told my mum to get rid of the Cat and that when she ended up finding other newer injuries on my. I.. I had tried to rip my arms open with the sharp end of a potato peeler. Not my best moments but I can look back on it husband laughs nd how stupid I was.

Alot of stuff went down from when I as 13 to 14 wobbly step dad. But mum loved him and he never raised a hand to hurt up just he would tell alot, drink and do lots of drugs.

When I was 14 I had my first kiss with a girl. My first girlfriend and it was the best thing ever. Until she broke up with me over text.

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pinkhairedlily · 4 years ago

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Endless Seasons With You

Chapter 12 of The Spring He Came Back | 12 of 12

Hinamori’s eyes fluttered open at the arresting sound of her alarm clock. Her phone was also simultaneously ringing. How she came home she’ll never know, but she was still in her coordinated outfit and she was lying down in her room with the heater perfectly functioning. Her mouth was so dry and coarse like felt paper; it was as if the alcohol evaporated inside. Her last memory before she blacked out was….Hitsugaya, his hooded gaze, and his lips on her.

She reddened immediately at the recall. Her hands slapped her cheeks several times to get out of the trance. She was fairly certain it was a dream. Sharp pain shot through her temples, indicating the coming and going of migraines from an alcohol-induced night. Her eyes found the medicine bottle and the note under it on her side table.

For your hangover. Sorry I wasn’t able to say goodbye. – Shirou

What? Hinamori grabbed her still ringing phone and saw the caller ID.

“Finally you picked up!” Rukia’s voice greeted her a bit cheerier than last night.

“How come you don’t have a hangover?” Hinamori asked, still massaging her temples. “I feel like puking.”

“Oh but you were truly a sight last night, you know. We need you to spill all the details later,” Renji said over Rukia’s laughter.

“Don’t be late. We need to see them off on the train platform at 12 noon.” The two quickly hang up, saying they had some errands to do.

“12 noon?”

Hinamori rushed out from her room, towards Baba’s, and and to the guest room. He wasn’t here. His things weren’t here anymore.

“Momo? Are you looking for Toushirou?” Baba called out from the kitchen. “He slept at Dr. Byakuya’s house last night, but he went here this morning and delivered some medicine.”

Hinamori slumped to the floor in a puddle of hopelessness she last felt a decade ago. Did she misread everything again? Did she wear her heart on her sleeve so naively that it came back to bite her for the second time around?

Whatever happened last night wasn’t enough to warrant a reason for him to stay. This encounter on the platform was her last chance, and if it won’t work out, at least she’ll be able to let go of him with the knowledge that she told him her true feelings. She looked at the time on her phone and saw that she only had one hour left.

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

The train’s whistle sounded twice, indicating that it was nearing the departure time. Hinamori jumped off her bike, her farewell gift in her arms. Then again, just like ten years ago, the doors started closing when she was running towards the platform.

“Wait! Shirou!” She quickened her run, the flowers losing some of their petals in the process. She tried to look for silver hair at every cab, even just for a split second. Surely, she might still have this last chance. She wasn’t able to say her last proper goodbye. Why was fate so harsh on her?

Tears started to blur her vision, but in the last cab she finally caught glimpse of Urahara and Byakuya. She pounded on the train’s doors, hoping they would somehow pry open, but the train started to move. She still hasn’t found him. “No, no, no, no.”

It was the last whistle, the moment to leave. She ran just before the train rode the momentum, she ran like her life was on the line, she ran with the hope that maybe she could catch the rail and be swept away in its journey. But the wheels were so much faster than her legs, and she was just one step away from the end of the platform.

Maybe I should jump.

Before her feet could lunge at the space between the platform and the last cab, someone grabbed her waist and pulled her to safety, the bouquet of daffodils loosening from her grip and flying with the strong wind.

He was gone. The train has left the station. She stared at the open blue sky, dotted with the swirling petals of her yellow daffodils and the pink cherry blossoms. How dare you be a beautiful day when I just lost him.

She cried openly, like how she did when she lost her parents. What a pathetic life she has led so far. She got manipulated by a man she truly admired, she thought she lost her grandmother due to her negligence, she drove her best friend away from his hometown, and she lost the chance to make him stay. “I haven’t told you yet I like you, Toushirou. It’s so unfair.”

“You already told me last night, Momo.”

His scent wafted around her, arresting her senses in a sudden burst of realization. She turned around and saw that he supported her fall on the platform. There was a hitch in her throat when it dawned on her that he didn’t leave. She succumbed in his embrace on the ground, afraid that he would suddenly leave or take the next train. She hugged him a little bit more – never mind that people were looking, never mind that traffic patrol was calling them out on the radio, never mind that their friends were breaking out to cheers and yells.

He held her hand as they walked towards a quiet spot on the side of the station. “I wasn’t on that train. Why were you getting on there?”

“Are you gonna be on the next one?” Hinamori asked. She wasn’t in the clear yet.

“Of course not.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you were drunk and you passed out. In the middle of drinking, no less.”

“You could have told me this the day you arrived.”

“Because I wasn’t sure if you would have me.” That pout seldom came on Hitsugaya’s face, but it did now in a random moment of insecurity.

Hinamori was suddenly pissed. She didn’t run across a train platform like a crazy lady for her sincerity to take jabs. “How much more should I prove to you that I would have you?”

“I know, I know. That’s why I stayed,” he reassured her. “You kissed me.”

It wasn’t a dream. They really did kiss last night. “And you kissed back.”

“Are you regretting it now?” He reached out to her other hand like a second nature. This hand holding was fast becoming a routine for both of them.

“Silly, don’t you dare regret staying behind too.” Hinamori sighed at the sight of yellow petals in the wind. “I brought you a bouquet as a farewell gift. They’re frost-resistant and they bloom all year round. I grew them myself.”

“See, I told you you’ll come up with that idea.” Hitsugaya let go of her hands and wrapped them around her waist. He pulled her closer so the wall can cover them from the prying eyes of the crowd. “I think I need to reward you with a kiss.”

His head lowered down on hers, and their lips found each other in a sweet, lingering way. “Would it be too fast if I asked you to go out with me?”

The whistle resounded again, this time signaling an arrival.

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

Five years later

The spring season was ending, but the daffodils in Hitsugaya’s arms were as fresh as the first bloom. In front of him was Baba in a wheelchair, still spritely as ever but her legs have given way to old age.

“Congratulations, Momo!”

The academy’s robes fit Hinamori like a second skin. Hers were maroon instead of the traditional blue for the undergraduates; she finished her bachelors and graduate studies in five years in a feat only she could have done by grit and hard work. Her thesis built upon her work on floral ecology and climate-resilient flowers which earned her several distinctions and publications. She has done all of these and still managed to keep her florist job afloat. Proud was an understatement.

She went to Hitsugaya and Baba after the pictorial, her arms enveloping them in a large, warm hug. The three Rs plus Gin also gave her bouquets and gift baskets.

“So where are we eating?” Urahara, Byakuya, and Unohana blended in the crowd in disguise, careful not to catch the attention of other faculty and students. The three became members of the academy board with Unohana passing the crown of chairpersonship to Byakuya.

“There’s a grand luncheon in our house,” Baba said. “It’s not my cooking, but they’re all my recipes.”

Hitsugaya hailed their service, a large van that can accommodate all of them. Long tables were set on the family grounds under the shade of the old camphor tree. Just like any other big day, announcements were bound to be made.

When Byakuya offered a wine glass to his sister, Rukia declined. “Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“I’m pretty sure you drank wine when it was still nine in the morning,” Byakuya said. Then he looked over to Renji and saw the nervous expression.

“Oh Byakuya, you’re gonna be an uncle!” Urahara patted him on the back, the latter choking on a morsel of food.

The couple got married last year during fall. It was Rukia’s wish to have a rustic-themed wedding in a barnyard, and Renji encouraged this. Hinamori was happy enough to curate the floral arrangements in warm muted red, orange, and yellow tones. Now they were bringing a baby into the world.

“Congratulations Rukia and Renji!”

“You should one-up me, Rangiku.” Rukia smiled at her friend, knowing what was up. The blonde took up Rukia’s offer. Rangiku’s hand showed her ring finger adorned with a silver band with a small turquoise in the middle. Having been engaged a few months ago, her wedding announcement with Gin was overdue.

“So we settled on a winter schedule,” Gin announced, kissing Rangiku on the cheek. Unamused expressions looked back at them, slightly disoriented at the date.

“It’s the busiest school season what with the orientations and the trainings and the school openings,” Byakuya protested.

“Oh come on, make time for me,” Rangiku whined.

“You’re not my sister,” Byakuya retorted.

“Fine. Rukia will still go anyway, and I doubt you’d leave your pregnant sister unattended.”

“Sly, Rangiku. No problems for me.” Urahara opened a new bottle of wine. “Any news from you two, Hitsugaya and Hinamori?”

Hinamori quizzically looked at her boyfriend of five years and wondered if she missed anything major. “Um, I graduated?” Hitsugaya weirdly avoided her eyes.

“That merits a cheer.” Unohana held up her wine glass and proudly beamed at Hinamori. “To Momo!”

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

Their guests left just before dusk settled down, ending the celebration with an exhilarating high. It was a tiring day, but it was mostly fulfilling. Just a series of accomplishments that have accumulated over the years; a series of interactions, of hellos and goodbyes, of hugs and quarrels, a series which made relationships, lasting memories, and great achievements.

After securing Baba’s bed and her medicine, Hinamori and Hitsugaya went to the back of the family compound for a quick reprieve from house chores. The rumors were quick to lash out with their living-in arrangement, but they honestly didn’t mind them, neither did Baba. The compound was too large, and they could easily sleep in different rooms and in different sections. Obviously, they didn’t because they spent a long time too far apart and any more distance would keep the other awake throughout the night. Cuddling was also a much more effective way to fall asleep.

The foothills and the vacant lot behind the compound were now filled with plots of different floral varieties. The dusk had a magical feel to it, the way the sun would transition into the soft glow of the moonlight, and the play of lights across the petals of the blooms. Half of the area was dedicated to daffodils, Hinamori’s memorial to their meadow of childhood and adolescent memories. Hitsugaya, having been granted by Baba’s blessing to own part of the compound, converted some rooms into his laboratory and office. More or less, they have started leaving imprints on this ancestral land.

HItsugaya had a plan – become the youngest tenured faculty, have watermelon contests during summer, and live out the rest of his days with the only family he knew – and his plan succeeded. He initially thought he strayed from that path and entertained the idea that maybe, perhaps, in some foreign countries, there was some other face he could come home to.

But Momo was home. He knew that before he left some fifteen years ago, when they left things unsaid and dealt with the repercussions of it within that decade. He knew that when he came back one spring season and saw how she built herself back up, when he realized he had a chance to turn his dream into a possibility. He knew that when he slept beside her and soft sighs escaped her lips as she snuggled closer. Momo was home.

They were indeed two separate journeys merging at the end of their respective successful conclusions, and he couldn’t be any happier.

“What are you smiling about?” Her hair was undone; it grew to a length reaching her waist, and he wanted nothing more than to slip his fingers in between those strands.

“Your hair and the moonlight,” Hitsugaya said. “I don’t want to one-up our friends earlier.”

“We’ve had conversations about this, but I’m not sure if I’d ever be ready.” She slid some straying locks behind her ear, blushing at the implication of his words.

Hitsugaya observed a little more. She said she wasn’t ready, but anxiety wasn’t in her body language. Maybe his timing was just right. “Looking back, it was quite a feat that I made you fell in love with me in one week.”

A light punch landed on his arm. “There’s that usual saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I’d like to believe it was planted there before long.”

“The trysts in the secret room really did their job, huh?” He had an inkling about that too, and he was glad he did those little things because those little things soon became bigger pictures and the pictures became dreams.

Hinamori laughed at the memories, the sneaking in the early mornings, and the pitiful self she was before. “The most we did was sleep on each other’s laps.”

“Well, don’t you want to sit on my lap right now?” Hitsugaya asked.

“We did this before Shirou and I only got allergies,” she complained, but she slid closer to him and he enveloped her in a back hug.

“Here’s a crown for my pretty girl.” The daffodils were beautiful on her hair, and the stars slowly ascended on the night sky. “And here’s a ring for the love of my life.”

Hinamori didn’t say anything and for a second, he was afraid she would say no. His plan B was to hole up in his laboratory for a few weeks and then ask for an explanation from her, but he soon heard muffled sobs from her.

“I told you I’ll never be ready for this. I’m tearing up so much.”

“Momo, we talked about communication so I need a definite yes or no,” he said as he was wiping away her tears.

She turned to him and nodded happily. “I’ve had five spring seasons with you, and you might think I’m greedy but I want them all.”

Hitsugaya mouthed a silent yes and matched it with a fist pump before he could slide the ring on Hinamori’s finger, both of their hands trembling in happiness.

“I’m quite nervous,” he said to her. He wiped a stray tear from his eyes, not noticing that he started tearing up as well. “I guess I’ll be like weepy Renji on his wedding day, but I’ll be happy to spend endless seasons with you for the rest of my life.”

It was Hinamori’s turn to cup his face. “That makes the two of us.”

The two kissed under the moonlight, the yellow daffodils swaying to the gentle caress of the wind, their meadow of happiness never wilting.

A/N: Everyone, thank you for reading my work. It was a joy writing HitsuHina. I hope you found some bit of comfort in their stories, and I hope you are all safe and well. On to our next journey! :)

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