#but phlegm is gross anyway so . it fits

[angelfoodscake]

remembered this evil bitch exists

[vinetae]

Can we get a part two of my love? 😭❤️

A/n: Yes you can! Had to decide whether I wanted JK to care for Y/n or them both be sick together. Hope you like it! Thanks for the feedback <33

Warnings: Light makeouts, fluff, reflections on the confession, and more fluff. Y/n tasting like Jungkook's mother's chicken noodle soup lmao. Gross metions of sick symptoms (nasty coughs and detailed sneezes).

Part 1

---

"Son of a bi-"

sneeze

Your eyes were itchy and swollen, nose running faster than Niagara Falls, and body all achy and stiff. Thanks to Jungkook, you'd gotten sick two days after he had. Now here you lay, tangled up in his Matte black big comforter, with snot just oozing out both of your nostrils.

Your nose felt fuller than when you go to an all-you can-eat buffet. Nose felt more stuffed full than all the things the girls from high school whispered about you behind your back.

Nose feeling fuller than-

"You look so hot right now." Jungkook giggles, erupting into a nasty fit of phlegm filled coughs. His chest sounded more wet than he makes you.

and that's hard to beat.

Your head slowly swivels to the side, eyeing his delusional self in retort. "I am extremely hot. Your duvet is too fucking big."

His lips curve into a smirk as he reaches across to your side of the bed, blowing his nose into a once, pure white tissue. "That's what she sai-" More coughs to come.

It was like an episode of the Three Stooges. Dumb and Dumber. Super Troopers, and all of those stupidly comedic shows we all loved as a kid.

His black locks fall into view, as his hand runs along Bam's curved back. The small -big- puppy -dog- had hotdog-ed himself right in between the middle of you two, making it impossible to cuddle anymore. Who cared anyways? The last thing you wanted to do was-

"Jungkook.." Your eyes take to the right side, eyeing the small little tent caught between his legs. Your eyes roll. "Are you seriously hard right now?"

A small blush flushes his cheeks, lifting his knee up to make the errection a bit more concealed. His voice, tiny and guilt-traced. "Noooo.."

A chuckle erupts from your chest, finding this whole ironic situation one of the dumbest things you've ever done. You're probably wondering what happened after your little makeout-confess-sesh that you two had shared a few nights ago. well, it went a little something like-

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby-"

Your head lulls back, as his lips press open, heated kisses along the side of your neck. Hands traveling to the innards of your loose fitting Tee, while your hips bared down onto his. Bam had gone out of the room, to give you two some space. -He couldn't handle the bed shaking so much, poor little puppy-

Your fingertips trace along the roots of your scalp, nails lightly grazing as you press your forehead to his. Lips crashing into one another's like a crazy, unannounced storm in the middle of the ocean. All had been going well, until-

"aH CHOO-"

And that's how Jungkook ended up sneezing into your mouth. Pretty crazy -mostly nasty- huh? Yeah, you weren't so pleased either. I mean you've heard of rainbow kisses but not phlegm kisses. That's a new one, for sure.

Jungkook's fingertips extend out, tracing along the heated skin of your exposed thigh which had been using the cooling air as a sort of way to lower your body temperature. You groan, twisting over to the other side, not wanting to deal with his horny ass right now.

Right now, you just wanted to sleep.

But noooo.

This fucker had to go and get hard by you coughing.

"Babeee" He whines, chest still clogged from the infection you two are sharing. He's quick to shoo Bam to his own bed at the entrance of Jungkook's bedroom. The dog lazily rises, mouth hanging low from sleep still halfway controlling his movements. However, once he's gone, Jungkook's quick to take his place. Wrapping you up in his arms like a Christmas present.

You groan out, arms extending to try and pry yourself from his arms, as he's trailing light kisses along the straights of your neck. Moans eliciting from his chest, as his mouth moves downwards. He's quick to crawl on top, towering your body with his own, largely defined and built one.

Your hands push at his chest lazily. "I thought being sick lowers people's sex drive."

A tugs his lips, as his mouth collides onto yours, not giving a damn about your bad breath. Kissing you, had been like reward for him.

And he wanted first place.

Your conscious looses control, hands coiling around his neck to bring him in deeper. Tongues sharing a sloppy but romantic exchange in the midst of this sick fest.

Once you two pull away -both having a heaping cough exit- his head gently presses to your chest, as his body drapes over yours. The blanket you didn't know you always wanted.

"I'm sorry for getting you sick, baby." The tip of his index finger draws lazy figure-eights to your arm, using one of his many talents to create a piece only he could see. Spoiler Alert: It was of you.

Your arm slings around to catch his body in a loose hug before responding. The air-conditioner clunking in the background, as you two lay there, listening to the sounds of one another's heartbeats.

"You know.. if we hadn't gotten sick, would we have even gotten together in the first place?" His head raises at the question, thinking for a second.

"No, most definitely not." Your eyebrow quirks at his answer, body moving to prop up just a bit as you look down at him with a certain expression. One that had been a mix between hurt and confusion.

"Why.. not?"

A smile tugs the corners of his lips, before scooting on up to cover your entire body once more. Supporting his weight onto the faith he held in his greatly defined biceps. "Because you would've turned me down."

"What? No I would not."

He hums. "Mhm, you would've. You clam up when you get out on the spot."

"Psh, everyone does that." You push his body to the side, kicking the comforter away as a wave of sickly heat runs it's coarse through your body.

He twists to lay on his side, one arm supporting his head as he continues. "Yeah, but I saw you doing that little thing you do with the ring your mother got you."

"The spinning one?"

He nods.

"Hah, it's just a fidget." He scoots closer, lips, grazing across yours before backing you into an imaginary corner.

"Mhm, a nervous one."

Rolling your eyes, you push at his chest once more. A little nudge towards the way you wanted him to go. Changing the subject quickly. Today wasn't a -'let's get into past traumas' kinda day. Maybe another time.

"Yeah yeah, go brush your teeth. You taste like chicken soup." He chuckles, walking over to your side before scooping you up bridal style. His head nuzzles close to you, as he walks towards the bathroom, setting your bum to the counter.

Hands trapping you on both sides, as he leans in close, pressing a light peck to your nose tip, before exhaling a relieved breath.

"I'm so glad I got sick."

[mildmayfoxe]

gross !

i’m unfortunately someone who is more likely than not to gag over spit & phlegm which as you may imagine sucks ass and also i suffer from the complication of being a very phlegmy person so i often also have a lot of mucus in the back of my throat which gets worse when i haven’t had enough water. anyway i had just gotten back from being out (didn’t have any water) and had to pee so bad (hadn’t yet had enough water) so was sitting on the toilet trying so hard to clear my throat but grossed myself out about it so much that i threw up all over myself 😑 luckily the bathtub was right there. but then i had to strip and ALSO clean the bathtub which was full of my own puke. and i also have to wash the rug too. so then im shaking trying to drink water and not throw up again and also get a cough drop bc sometimes those help with the phlegm. and then i had to wash my shirt in the sink before i could even put it in the laundry basket. all over having a coughing fit because i could feel mucus in my throat. and now also my throat hurts bc i coughed too much to try to make it go away. stupid life. anyway i’m so sensitive to this stuff that brushing my teeth makes me gag too. isn’t that awful

[sick-atsumu-side]

5. Mad | Kuroo Tetsurō

Disclaimer: All of the characters belongs to Haruichi Furudate, they’re not mine.

Warnings: description of vomit, phlegm and mucus.

Name: Mad.

I tried to do something different, so hope you like it💘.

“Stupid and damned goblet cells.”

Kuroo’s voice sounded frustrated, but at the same time it felt like he had been drowning on his own mucus and phlegms. However, he just stared at the ground and blew his nose after sneezing on a piece of toilet paper. It was the million time since he had woken up.

Kenma sighed.

“Kuroo, don’t blame your cells. It’s weird.”

The dark haired boy gave him an annoyed look from above with his toilet paper in hand, even if Kenma wasn’t actually looking at him. He wanted to say something about it, since he was being a dick just for woking him up early knowing that Kenma hated that. That wasn’t Kuroo’s fault either because they had planned this before but hey... Kenma was in bad mood and he was sick like a dog.

What a compelling combination.

Kuroo started blowing his nose again after hearing by the speakers of the airport that his flight was about to take off in ten minutes. It was like he has mucus forever, they won’t stop running from his nose even if he wanted to. And hell, he could bet that he looked like Rodolfo the reindeer.

He was very congested, like really. And that made him feel a headache too, he was sure about that.

“You sure you have to go visit your grandma today? You could have waited till next week.”

Kuroo putted the dirty toilet paper in his pocket and then looked at Kenma again with a bit of watery eyes, the typical of a cold. But this seemed quite different, Kenma thought.

“Her birthday is today, not tomorrow or next week. Don’t be so dick now Kenma, please.”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not.” He lied, even if Kenma wouldn’t believe him. “It’s just a cold, when the mucus are gone... this is over.”

Kenma sighed again, still walking to the plane beside Kuroo.

“If your grandma dies from a cold I guess we’ll know who killer her.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes with annoyance.

“Ha ha, how funny.”

The sarcastic laugh didn’t last long, because Kuroo started to cough wetly on his elbow. Kenma just stared at him with disgust before they landed on the plane.

Why does Kuroo never admit things?

It was something Kenma never understood of him.

The setter knew for sure that Kuroo had something more than a simple cold and that he wasn’t totally fine. His bags under his watery eyes, the red nose and his blushing face revealed it, but the stupid decided to go and visit his grandmother anyways.

And there he was, accompanying the stupid in that stupid decision. Not that he really wanted to, but it was Kuroo, he owed It to him.

Kenma were stuck in bed a week before Kuroo started sneezing, and he was there for him all the time. He couldn’t let him all alone in this trip now that he was fine. That wouldn’t be fair.

BUT, Kenma didn’t went off his bed in all week and this was the third day that Kuroo was outside his own house. Responsability, he had said.

What a bullshit.

That wasn’t responsability, it was stupidity and stubbornness.

“Kenma, put on your headphones.” Said Kuroo, after a while sipping water from his bottle.

“Hm.”

“And put-cough your belt on.”

“Okay, mom.”

Kenma sounded more annonyed than he really was, because of his lack of sleep and the stubbornness of Kuroo. However, he putted on his headphones anyway to play a videogame on his phone while Kuroo just stared outside the window.

The flight would not last more than two hours, so they weren’t much worried about it. It was an express trip, not a big deal.

The problem was the coughing or sneezing of Kuroo. Because even if he was with headphones on, Kenma could hear the coughing fits that left his boyfriend breathless. He was quite worried, but when Kuroo sipped water and calmed down, Kenma thought that he would be fine the next hours.

That was until he heard a retch after a wet coughing fit. In that moment, Kenma took off his headphones and looked at the feverish and blushed captain of Nekoma.

“Kuroo, stop.” He said, with a serious look. “Drink some water or whatever, you’re distracting me”.

“Well, thanks for caring.” Kuroo responded, after another hard and wet coughing fit on his elbow.

Kenma hit him on the shoulder.

“Seriously, stop.”

“I can’t.” Kuroo’s voice was raspy and his eyes were more watery than before, Kenma just noticed. “I’m d-cough doing the best I can.”

At that moment, Kuroo showed the water bottle he was carrying and Kenma looked at him with disapproval. But at the same time, he tried to help by rubbing circles on his back.

“Kuroo, do you wan’t me to turn on the air conditioned? I think you need some air.”

Kuroo’s warm, Kenma thought. But he didn’t say anything about it.

“I’m fine.”

The dark haired boy wasn’t fine, actually he was feeling like shit. His nose was stuck with a lot of mucus and at the same time his throat burned like hell, and he could bet that he had a lot of phlegm too. That made him feel sick inside his throat.

“Kuroo, try to breath slowly. Not so fast.”

His head was pounding more than before and his chest felt heavy. However, the worst par of it were the coughing fits. Because he couldn’t stop even drinking water. And the movement made his lungs, nose, chest and throat hurt. His gag reflex was acting because of it too. Everything felt bad inside of him.

Maybe he should have heard Kenma, he thought. But now it was too late. He wouldn’t admit his defeat.

“Hey, you two okay there? Needing some help?”

The both of them turned to face the stewardess worried look. Instinctively, Kuroo nodded with his head, while he was still trying to catch his breath.

“It’s just-cough a cold, don’t worry.” He said, knowing that Kenma wouldn’t talk to that beautiful woman. “I’ll be-cough fine, thank you.”

“Ok, if you need anything just call me.”

“K’ay.”

The girl left them with a soft smile and Kuroo tried to breath slowly, while Kenma was starting to feel anxious. His boyfriend really looked like a dead body right there.

“Kenma, I’m-cough not dying.”

“I know.” He said. “Take deep breaths.”

Kuroo wanted to say something more or just stop coughing so Kenma could be calm. However, he couldn’t do it because his throat itched like hell and he started to cough again.

Kenma patted his back slowly and rubbed it too, with an anxious and a worried look. At the same time, Kuroo opened his legs urgently and bended with his face facing the ground when his gag reflex did a jump and he gagged hard.

Kenma almost freaked out.

“Kuroo, don’t you dare.”

The dark haired boy didn’t listen clearly to Kenma, he just coughed hard again and again between his legs. He couldn’t breath and every coughs ended with painful and wet gags. Now he could even feel something hot rising up his throat.

Oh no.

With extreme urgency he grabbed the first thing he had in sight, which was a lot of toilet paper from his pocket and putted it in his mouth right before retching a lot of phlegms on it. It was disgusting, but Kuroo should’ve sighed in relief if he could.

He really thought that would be vomit.

Kenma wrinkled his nose and stared at him with a worried look. At least he had stopped coughing, but now he was dry heaving. He didn’t know what to say now.

“Kuroo, drink some wat-”

“Kenma, could you pass me the-cough air vomit bag.” Kuroo coughed again and gagged on the piece of toilet paper, releasing a bit of saliva and phlegm.

“Why?”

Kuroo retched more phlegms on the toilet paper and Kenma passed him the bag anyway. He couldn’t deal with vomit and Kuroo knew that. Why was he doing this to him? It wasn’t fair. He told him he was fine, It was just a cold. He...

Kuroo felt something hot rising up his chest again and he inhaled hard before starting to cough hard again. He was losing this fight.

“Kuroo, please try to breath.” Kenma said, still patting on his back while the passengers were looking at him. That made him more anxious than before.

Kuroo just wanted all that cough and feeling of sickness to go away. He really felt sick as a dog, his ears were pounding after every coughing fit and he could feel his breakfast coming up even if he wasn’t nauseous. Maybe he had a fever too, he didn’t know.

Stupid goblet cells.

“Kuroo don’t-”

Even if Kenma wanted to stop it, Kuroo couldn’t. He retched without advice and a pale brown liquid poured from his throat, ending on the plastic bag with a sickening sound. He coughed hard at the end.

Then he tried to say something but more warm liquid poured out from his mouth and nose, making the feeling more hard for him. It hurted like hell and his ears were still pounding.

And Kenma, oh wait.

“I told you. I fucking told you.” Now Kenma was in totally panic but tried to stay calm since they were in a plane with more people. But he was mad. “Why don’t you ever listen to me? Don’t fucking push yourself to this point, your grandmother would have understood. You know that.”

Yes. He knew that.

Kuroo burped and coughed a bit more of his breakfast and phlegms inside the soiled plastic bag, before he was left dry heaving and gagging.

“Stupid Kuroo.”

He felt too gross to respond that. The phlegms were too disgusting and so was vomiting. But he has to admit that he felt a little bit relieved, because all that mucus and phlegms were gone in that disgusting bag. Now he could breath a little more.

“You disgusting and stubborn animal.”

The captain of Nekoma gagged again at the taste, but nothing came up. Just saliva and mucus. Then he spitted on it and wiped his nose with toilet paper. After that, when he felt sure to let the bag away, the girl from before took it for him with a sad smile.

Kuroo felt asshamed. But now he could breath and wasn’t coughing, even if his throat was hurting like hell it was better than cough every damn second. The headache was another thing.

Hell, he was really sick.

“Where did you put my water?” Kuroo asked, and Kenma passed it to him saying nothing. His face was a totally bad mood. “Don’t be mad, Kenma. Now I can breath. You should be happy for me.”

After saying that, Kuroo started drinking sips of his water bottle, so Kenma pressed the bottle hard so Kuroo would drown. The dark haired boy coughed again, but it wasn’t a coughing fit.

“You wanna kill me?!” Kuroo stared at him with shock.

“That’s for being a stubborn.” Kenma said. “And for scaring me.”

“Kenma...”

“And you smell like vomit, disgusting.”

Kuroo sighed.

“Kenma, you can’t be mad at me for throwing up. You’re the one who gave me this germ in first place.” He said, closing the bottle of water.

Kenma gave him a look of bad mood.

“I’m sorry, I should have listened to you. I know.” Kuroo took Kenma’s hand and sighed again. “I won’t worry you again, I promise.”

“Promise me you’ll rest when we arrive, because If you didn't know, you have a fever.”

Oh, that makes sense. How did Kenma knew that?

Kuroo sighed shakily, still with watery eyes and the blushed face because of the fever.

“I promise.” He said, still holding Kenma’s hand. “But don’t be mad at me. I felt relieved because now I can breath but I still don’t feel too good, you know.”

Kenma looked at his blushing face and sighed too, because the truth was that he was never really mad at him. Kenma was just worried because he loved him, more than anything.

And yes, Kuroo was a stubborn but was HIS stubborn. And he was going to take care of him.

[underthemoon-and-stars]

Are you willing to write a Stucky with a child that has Cystic Fibrosis? If so, can it be a domestic fluff? Like Bucky finds the kid and they remind him of Pre-serum Steve so he and Bucky take them in. Thank you if you can. (I'm sorry just want to see a CF character in a fandom I love)

Hi dear!! I was very nervous to write this as I wasn't very aware of the symptoms of CF. I went on a lot of medical sites and I think I have the information right? If not I am so so sorry and I will redo it!! Also I'm going to make their child a daughter but feel free to switch up the pronouns!  -Selenophile

Cystic fibrosis is a genetic condition, which means that it is something you are born with. Cystic fibrosis is known to cause your lungs to produce extra-thick, sticky mucus. This mucus builds up and clogs your airways. Side effects include persistent cough with phlegm, postnasal drip, wheezing, shortness of breath, inability to exercise, as well as poor growth and low body weight despite a good appetite.

Y/N reads the doctors note every day. When she was younger, she didn't understand one word of it. At two years of age she would hand over the card to the family that had high hopes of adopting a little girl. They would usually leave without her. Her housemother, Mrs. Hamilton, always played it off as a different type of superhero form the comic books. Not a lot of adults want superhero babies. It was so easy to believe that. Now she’s 18. She getting released into the real world Luckily, her friend offered her house just till she can find a college to stay at.  Y/N had to learn the hard way that adults don't want a sick kid.

“Hey kiddo” Mrs. Hamilton said, her tone soft like silk.  “You read that dumb note everyday. It means nothing.”

“It apparently does. No adult wanted me in my 18 years of being here.” Y/N retaliated. 

“Don't think about that. They didn't deserve you anyway.” 

Y/N sighed and picked up her tote bags. “I’ll miss your kindness, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“You have my number if you need me.” 

“I know”

They shared a long tender hug. Y/N pulled away once she felt a little tickle in her throat. The tickle sadly turned into a whole fit. 

“Hey, if you ever need me to pay for your Bronchodilators, please text me. I don't mind.”

“Of course Mrs. Hamilton. Ill see you around.”

And with that, Y/N made her way down the stairs. This place, so familiar, was now going to be apart of her past. She remembers running all around with her “brothers”. Patiently eating dinner with her “sisters” was the best. Even exploring the world with their gender-fluid and non-binary siblings was so exciting. Mrs. Hamilton and her always had the best talks. Mr. Hamilton helped with her homework. So, so many memories from this place. She’ll miss it.

The outside world was so much different now that Y/N was out on her own. She took her meds this morning, so that once gross, pollen-infested air didn't even bother her anymore. Her brave feet carried her away from the place she used to call home. The first order of business before heading to her house of 2 months though, get some lunch. Wendy’s has a pretty amazing salad and it was only 2 blocks down. Lucky for her, 2 blocks was her walking limit. Off she went.

That's where Bucky and Steve were enjoying a lovely lunch as well. Steve had a hamburger, and Bucky had some chicken nuggets.

“Alright dear” Steve said “Check Wendy's off your list”

“Already did. I think its pretty good! Not my favorite though.” Bucky replied happily. 

The newly-founded couple have been going to one fast food place a week to introduce Bucky to different types. Any fast food restaurant one could think of, they're going. It was a mix of a date and bringing Bucky up to modern times. It was good for them.

“Bucky, all you get is chicken nuggets you should branch out.” 

“Leave me aloneeee I love my chicken nuggets”

They giggled together, and returned to eating. That's when Y/N walked through the door. She was already panting. Not even realizing, she passed the two men who would change her life. 

Y/N stood patiently, waiting to order. Bucky watched her. Her small, skinny stature reminded him so much of young Steve. Even the way she panted after walking in. Steve would do the same.

“Who are you looking at my love?” Steve questioned.

“Oh, the girl on line. She reminds me so much of you. Skinny, Small, I heard her panting. Look she's coughing now too. What was it called?”

Steve turns around and smiles “Bucky she's cute but what's your point?”

Bucky jumped up “I'm gonna talk to her!”

“That's cute love but please come back id like to enjoy our date before our next mission”

The long-haired man nodded, skipping happily over to Y/N. Just as he was approaching though, an older man came behind her and snatched her wallet. Bucky was ready to pounce, but Y/N was first to it. She was so weak, so she flung right off with a simple push of the man.

“Hey doll, you alright?” He asked softly. 

She nodded weakly, already shaking. Steve rushed out the door to follow the man.

“That's my boyfriend, he’ll get your wallet. Why don't you sit with us? I’ll get your lunch! What would you like?”

Y/N looked up at him. “I-I” she took a minute to wheeze out a cough “T-that's too kind of y-you.”

“Please its my pleasure! what would you like?”

Y/N tells him a simple Caesar Salad. He happily picks her up, along with her stuff. Bucky told her where she was sitting, and she made her way.

This is so weird. Y/N thinks to herself. She takes a seat regardless through, watching the tall blonde walk towards the shorter brunette. She sees her wallet and feels at ease. 

“She’s either a runaway or an orphan whos turned 18. We need to take her in” Bucky whispered into his ear. 

“Or she's just heading off to college? I cant put a girl a risk” Steve whispered back. 

“Please Steve. She reminds me so much of you. She cant survive out here one her medication runs out. And to be honest? She seems like she has a low dosage the way she's still wheezing and coughing like that.”

“One day James. If she changes my mind in one day, we can keep her”

Bucky happily kissed Steve's cheek. He carefully grabbed the salad and took it to the girl. 

They ate together rather happily. The couple learned her name was Y/N. She’s and 18 year old girl who just came out of the system, just like Bucky hypothesized. To sum up her condition , she showed them the note - which was only kept for nostalgic purposes - which made Steve feel connected to her more. 

“So no one adopted you because you have Cystic Fibrosis?” Bucky asked

“No one wants a sick kid”

Steve sympathized. “I used to have CF too. Once I got the super solider serum I never had to deal with it again. I understand where you come from though. Being constantly underweight and small, also no matter how hard you try you cant become better at exercise. I get it.”

Bucky took Steve’s hand and kissed his cheek. Y/N smiled, continuing to eat her salad. She didn't even question the fact that he was Captain America, she understands how it feels to be bombarded with questions. 

They managed to convince Y/N to stay for the night. She fought them on it, telling them they were being way too nice for a girl who was about to ruin their night. Bucky continued to tell her to shush it, while Steve was having a change of heart.

It was a good night. They watched TV together, enjoyed a lovely home cooked dinner, talked some more about each other and even played some old timey board games. Y/N had the time of her life. No way on Earth would she do this with any other adult who offered her help. Since Steve had a similar experience and Bucky helping him through said experience, it gave Y?N the confidence to take the offer. She never regretted it

That one day became one week. That one week became one month. The one month became a year. Steve and Bucky were there every step of the way. Convincing to ask the little web slinger Peter Parker out to prom, taking said prom pictures, helping Y/N with homework, taking her on cool adventures. The day of her high school  graduation they gave her the gift of a car. She gave them the official title of Dad. When the papers for official guardianship were clear, it was the happiest day of the trio’s life. 

Now, its the night before Y/N goes to college. Her bags were packed. Her small, cozy bedroom looked so vacant now. Her dads were cuddled up on the couch.

“Got any room for a jellybean?” She asked softly. 

“Yes we do! Always!” Bucky cheered happily,splitting apart from Steve. The small girl jumped in, which was a big mistake since she was already taking deeper breaths. 

“Did your school accommodate for your CF?” Steve asked, giving her a big fat kiss on her cheek.

With a giggle, she replied “Yeah dad, They put me in the closest dorm to the classroom. They also put me on the lower floor on the dorm building. AND Peter said he was gonna help me out.”

“You and Peter are too cute, I'm happy he takes interest in you”

“Thanks Dad 2″

Y/N leaned right into her dad 2 where she was scooped under the chilly metal. Steve got up, moving to the fleshier side of his husband. Yes, in the year Y/N lived with them, they finally got themselves together and got married. Y/N was Bucky’s maid of honor, and she joined in on the couples first dance. 

They watched the stupid soap opera that was on late at night. all three of them couldn't even keep up with what was happening.

“Dads, I love you” Y/N blurted out. 

“Woah kid, you better catch your breath, because we love you too.” Bucky responded as Steve reached over, playing with the girls hair. Her happy giggled gave Steve and Bucky the message: they changed this girls world.

Send all requests to the Inbox!!💌

[living-dead-parker]

Hallmark, Hot Chocolate, and Halls - P.P

Summary: Y/N is sick, Tony’s tired. Good thing there’s Peter.

Warnings: idk if there’s cussing, there might be. This is really a call out post about me bc this is 100% me last night and today bc im sick. Also probably some mistakes.

On and unrelated note, I voted for the first time today which was cool

Word Count: 1.3k

(Not my gif)

"Mr. Star-"

"Get over here, kid. Now, please." Tony cuts off Peter as the younger man rounds the corner into the living room of the Avengers Tower. Peter notices a frazzled Tony attempting to stand up and a sickly looking Y/N attached to the man, not letting go. Her arms are wrapped around his waist as she holds onto him, clinging for dear life. Peter's eyes go wide, brows furrowed in pure confusion. "Help me." Tony begs, finally standing up, taking Y/N with him.

"W-What happened?" Peter asks as he steps closer. Peter notices the Hallmark channel playing on TV, tons of tissue littering the coffee table and the couch, the bottles of DayQuil and NyQuil. He also notices the mass of blankets and pillows, the movie DVD boxes, bottles of water and juices. The living room looks a mess and Tony does too.

"Y/N is sick." Tony responds in a smartass tone. Peter rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I know, but...what is all of this, why isn't she letting you go?" Peter asks as he steps closer, picking up some of the mess with a clean napkin on the table. Tony sighs, prying the young woman's arms off of him.

"Y/N doesn't get sick often, so when she does, it's bad," Tony begins, pointing to the young woman who lies in a fetal position on the couch. Peter giggles, looking over at his girlfriend. She sits up, looking over at Peter with her puppy dog eyes. "I have some stuff I need to take care of today, so can you stay with her for today? I took care of her all last night, so I need to spend some time making myself look presentable." Tony says, earning a nod from Peter. Tony rests a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving the young man a sympathetic look. "Good luck."

As Tony walks away, Peter turns and notices the small bucket by the couch, a small jar of VapoRub, some TheraFlu packets and a few other medicinal items. Turning back around, he sees Y/N throwing her arms up for a hug, and how could Peter say no? Sitting down, he pulls the young woman in closer to his side, moving to press a kiss on her cheek. However, he feels a soft and extremely warm hand move in front of his face to stop him.

"Peter, don't kiss me, okay. I don't wanna get you sick." Y/N warns. Peter shakes his head, leaving a chaste peck on his cheek. Turning in his seat, he looks over at you and smiles down at you.

"Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?" Peter asks. Y/N shakes her head, wrapping her arms around the young man's waist. Peter's hands go down to her hair, messing with the h/c strands of hair that messily lay atop her head.

For the rest of the day, the two just sat down watching crappy Hallmark movies while Tony went out for meetings. Pepper was away at meetings with Tony as well. Every once in a while, Bucky or Sam would come out to pick on the two teens, earning glares and sass from the sick girl. It wasn't until Y/N threatened to throw them off a cliff once she's better that they finally stopped. However, Nat and Wanda would come out to do the same, teasing the couple relentlessly. If Y/N had her strength at the moment, she'd be threatening the two women, but she knows with them it's on-sight so there's no point until she's better. Peter would occasionally get a call from his two best friends, Ned and Michelle.

Eventually, Tony did come back and Pepper decided to stay and help him take care of Y/N. Peter decided to stay as well as he hasn't been able to see you for a whole week. Peter had already called May to ask for permission to spend the night, to which she agreed, saying she'd be working a night shift anyways. Now, Peter sits on the big couch with you while Tony and Pepper cuddle up on one of the other couches.

"She didn't give you too much trouble now, did she?" Tony asks, looking over at Peter.

"No, we stayed like this all day. Only moving to use the restroom, but besides that we've been in this same position." Peter states, looking over at the man. Tony chuckles, looking over at you in an unbelieving way.

"She wasn't emotional? Didn't throw up? No laugh crying? Begging for some 'hot choccy milk'? Whatever that is." Tony asks, looking between Peter and his daughter.

"What? No." Peter responds, not sure what he's going on about.

"Last night, I took her to a Walgreens to buy items for her flu. Cough drops, pills, teas, and so on. On the way to the store, she was playing that one Ariana Grande song, I guess it's a new one and she just started crying,"

"Dad, I don't know why I'm crying." you cry as you wipe the tears away. You begin to giggle a little, embarrassed that you're actually crying. It's really a mix of emotions. From being upset that you're sick, to feeling vulnerable because you're sick, to the line where Ariana Grande sings about loving herself.

"Are you really crying?" he asks, briefly turning and noticing your puffy eyes and the tears falling past your cheeks.

You begin to laugh as you cry, singing along. "Thank you, next. Thank you, next. I'm so fucking thankful for my ex."

On the way back, you were in charge of music again. Tony started the drive back home, just wanting to get you comfortable and warm. Suddenly, the sound of Some Velvet Morning by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. As the song reaches Nancy Sinatra's line, the tone shifts and once more, you're crying.

"This song is so beautiful, god I blame you for making me emotional, father."  you cry once again. Tony sighs quietly to himself as he sees you crying again. He rests a hand on your, lightly squeezing it reassuringly. He sings along to the song with you, holding in his laughter.

Upon arriving back home to the Avengers Tower, Tony set you up in the living room per your request. At the store, he bought you DVDs; How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Polar Express, Elf, and the Nightmare Before Christmas. He set the movies up, also setting out your water and your juice, as well as some Halls cough drops. He made you eat a cough drop while he went to make you some TheraFlu tea.

"I want some choccy milk." you whine.

"You're 18, Y/N. Please act like one." Tony whines as he hands you a cap full of NyQuill.

"It tastes gross, dad." you whine, scrunching your face in disgust.

"Either way you can't drink milk. It'll make the phlegm worst. Just take the NyQuill, chug some water, and then drink your tea. Please." Tony whines.

You had spent a majority of the night awake, either in a coughing fit, throwing up, or being unable to breathe in general. Tony stayed awake with you the whole time, deciding he'd rather make sure you;re okay than let you stay up alone and sick.

"Geez, that sound bad." Peter sympathizes, holding Y/N closer to him. Tony shrugs, leaning back in his seat and watching the movie on TV. "Why Hallmark?" Peter asks after a few minutes of watching the movie in silence.

"Y/N and I have made it tradition that we watch shitty Hallmark movies and only that throughout the months of November and December. The only exception is the news. Besides that, this is all we watch."

"Yeah, and usually we drink some hot choccy milk, but all I have is this stupid TheraFlu tea in my hands." Y/N complains, sending Tony a glare. Tony shrugs, standing up and walking out of the room. The only sound in the room is the sound of some terrible Hallmark movie, that Y/N seems to genuinely like watching. After a few minutes, Tony walks back in with three mugs, offering one to Peter.

"Hot choccy milk, Peter?" Tony asks as Peter takes the mug. He offers one to Pepper as well before taking a sip of his own drink. Y/N glares as she angrily sips on her tea, popping another Halls cough drop into her mouth, crossing her arms across her chest and watching the movie again.

Please leave me asks/requests. I’m always a slut for new friends

[goodgrammaritan]

The yoga studio where I work part-time is reopening on May 18 because Texas has a stupid governor. I am filled with anxiety, fear, dread, anger, and resentment.

The yoga studio is so small as to make social distancing nearly impossible. There's not really room in the lobby for more than one person to stand in line if we adhere to the 6 feet rule.

We can only run at 25% capacity, meaning we can only have 21 students at a time.

Some students already argue when I turn them away when a class is full. I say no but they been and wheedle and ask if I can't fit just one more, and that X teacher wouldn't mind, etc.

Gyms can open but locker rooms have to remain closed. Locker rooms are where the bathrooms are. Do we shut them completely, or only allow use of toilets? And if we only allow use of toilets, how do we keep people from using the stalls to change when they're not supposed to? And how do we ensure that men wash their damn hands?!? (It's a problem. I have evidence that men are gross.)

We don't have ID cards or scanners. People sign in by hand, using the same pens. If the locker rooms are closed, they can't wash their hands afterward.

If/when I go back, I'll definitely be wearing a mask. And this is more of a personal comfort thing, but masks are already hot, and the lobby is fucking hot as balls in summer. (It's Texas, May is summer, we've already had several days in the 90s.)

It's not only a yoga/fitness studio, where people are breathing and sweating hard. It's a HOT yoga/fitness studio, meaning all classes are 85°-90° Fahrenheit. There is so much sweat and breath and other droplets/particulates.

Sometimes students who are ill come in to "sweat it out," treating the heat and humidity like a healing sauna, all the while coughing and sneezing.

Some students have no awareness of others. There's one in particular who has bad allergies, and who SPITS UP HER PHLEGM into the shower towels.

There are no disposable gloves provided for staff to handle used shower towels or used, sweat-drenched yoga towels.

There are always at least 3 staff members on hand, and we're always ass-to-elbows in the small area behind the desk. There is no personal space.

I love my manager, but am not a fan of the owner, who is kind of racist and sexist, and, I suspect, a Republican. (He's a rich white male.) A large group of our clientele are Indian, and he makes broad assumptions about how cheap and argumentative they are. Our staff is all women, and he makes jokes about "get in the kitchen" and domestic violence. At a recent Zoom happy hour send-off for a staff member who is moving, he referred to her essential oil side gig as "snake oil." Personally, I think essential oils smell nice and can be good for aromatherapy, but I don't buy into any other supposed health benefits they provide. That said, I'm not going to be rude about it. They seem to work for her and she gets a lot out of it, so I'm not going to disparage her livelihood.

The pay is pretty shitty. It's not a super-hard job most days, but the pay rate is set by corporate and there are no raises.

So I'm nervous. But I'm torn, because:

The yoga studio means a lot to me. Before I quit my full-time corporate job and started working there, I had 5 years of glorious workouts. It was the first exercise I didn't hate, that I actually enjoyed.

I'm in better shape than I've ever been before. (Well, I was before COVID, anyway.)

There's a great variety of yoga and fitness classes, and I can go to multiple locations.

Working there means my membership is free.

I have a group of workout buddies for the 6:45 am class with Anthony, and we all go hard and encourage each other. (I wouldn't have to give that up, but there'd be a monthly fee.)

I'm ENORMOUSLY, HUGELY privileged because I don't have to work full time or even part time, did to my spouse being the breadwinner. His attitude is that his money is my money, and he's sorry generous. He's actually the one who encouraged me to quit my full-time advertising job, because my mental health was really suffering. BUT: Among myriad other things, I have a crippling guilt about not being an earner. Keeping the yoga studio job gives me my own income, so I don't feel indulgent or like a moocher when I buy things for myself. It's more my mental issue than any issue with my husband, but the job helps with that.

I'm a social person. While there are going to be assholes at any job (whether coworker or clientele), there are more people I like than dislike. I'm outgoing and chatty, and I get something good out of interacting with people, and the job provides that.

On days when I'm in a depression slump, a shift at work can sometimes reset my brain and force me to stop ruminating or spiraling.

My boss is amazing. When my medication stopped working last August, she took the time to listen to me when I told her I was suffering, and honored my request for reduced hours. She always makes time to listen, and she genuinely cares about me.

While the pay is low, my manager, a great boss, DID come up with a workaround for me, by which I submit a monthly invoice for a tiny bit of extra pay, which she didn't have to do, and for which I am grateful.

My manager has told me I'm the best ops person she has, and she's told me she prioritizes my availability when making the monthly schedule. (Ops=running the front desk, giving orientations, selling memberships, doing laundry and tidying.)

While I dislike the owner, he can be nice at times. He bought me Starbucks when the AC went out at the studio. He knows I have depression and could tell I was upset one day, and I said it was just one of those depression slumps. He asked if coffee would help and I said it wouldn't hurt, so he got me Starbucks then, too.

Many of the yoga teachers say I'm they're favorite ops person to work with because I make their jobs easier. The assistant manager even referred to me as "the ops darling."

Many of my coworkers find me funny, and I get a lot out of making people laugh.

So... I'm conflicted.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Fun fair with the Family - Batmom x Batfam (REPOST please READ the explanation right under the summary :-( )

Summary : Batmom decides to take her family to the fun fair…She quickly realizes it might not be her best idea ever.

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

Repost because, and this time I really don’t know how, the original post got erased...BUT I had it backed up for once. So here. FUCK. Hum. Sorry. But it had almost 100 notes, and comment people left I didn’t even had time to read because the story simply disappeared...I’m a bit bummed out right now...Is it too much to ask if you could like, reblog and comment again ? I kinda feel bad, it’s not my style to ask those things...I’m so sorry for that, but it’s a bit discouraging, to write something, and to see that apparently it was liked, but to not know who liked it, what were the comments etc etc, especially since this time, I didn’t do anything, the story simply disappeared...Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy, and re-enjoy if you already read it :’-( : 

__________________________________________________

Not even an hour in, and you know you made a huge mistake bringing them here. All at the same time. They were going to be the death of you, so much energy…But it was just so rare that you all had some free times at once…You just wanted to spend some time with them.

It all started so well though.

*******************

You woke up in the best way possible : with your Bruce’s lips trailing kisses on your neck, shoulders and back, his arms wrapped around you. You shifted around, and before you could say anything, he kissed your temple, the corner of your mouth, slowly putting butterfly kisses on your face, to finally kiss you on the lips.

You melted in the kiss, and squeezed his large frame against you, your arms struggling to wrap around him. Damn that man was big. When he pulls away, you can’t help but grin at him, and he gives you the smile he only reserved to you. A real, pure smile. You nuzzle his neck, and he let out a contended sigh.

-You’re alright ?

-More than alright my love, as always when you’re here.

-My sweet Broosh. You know what I mean.

-I am alright. Not even a single bruise or scratch. The boys are too. Calm night.

-I like those.

-I like you.

-I love you.

-Oh yeah, that too. I love you (Y/N).

-Well, here’s for our morning’s cheesy ritual…We probably should get up.

-I have the entire day off.

-Oh ? Well then, what’s the hurry right ?

He smiles once more at you, and you crash your lips on his, climbing on him to straddle him. One of his hand tangles itself in your (H/L) (H/C) hair, the other goes to your waist and his grip is almost bruising. He cannot stop himself, you always had a strong and immediate effect on him…He rolls on top of you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.

-What’s the hurry indeed.

********************

-Can I change bedroom ? Because I need sleep, and I realized that choosing the bedroom just down the hall from yours was a mistake. I think I understand now why the others have their bedroom at the other side of the Manor. You guys are so loud.

Bruce chokes on his coffee, and you turn all kind of shades of red. Give it to Damian to be brutally honest like that…His brothers hesitate between being disgusted (reminding themselves why they also switched bedrooms from the master bedroom’s floor to the opposite aisle of the house), and bursting out laughing, Alfred and his childish giggle convince them to howl in laughter.

You look at your husband, quite horrified, and he shifts awkwardly on his seat, the fork full of eggs he was going to eat still half way through between his plate and his mouth…He says :

-Yes, of course you can change room.

-Great, because really, my dear parents, you’re mak…

-OOOoooook, subject close.

-Yes Dams, subject close. You’re going to make it weird again.

-I never make it weird Grayson ! I think it’s gross too, they just have to know that they’re a nuisance when together, that we can hear them from the gard…

Bruce cuts his son off, putting his large hand on his mouth, and says :

-Let’s not talk about this anymore, instead, let’s talk about the fact that today, we’re all completely free and we should do something together ! 

You freeze at Bruce’s words. “All completely free” ? Could it be ? This hasn’t happened for almost seven months ! You definitely had to do something as a family ! Before one of your sons could say he had plan, you throw in the idea of going to Gotham’s fun fair, without really thinking about it (maybe if you had, things would have gone differently). You even convince Alfred to come with you, because come on, he’s definitely part of the family. When you say he’s “like the dad you never had”, you swore you saw tears welling up in his eyes, as he rushed to put the dirty breakfast dishes in the dishwasher…

Your sons are excited, Bruce seems ok with the plan (as long as he’s with you, his sons, or Alfred, he’s always OK), and you’re just too happy at the prospect of spending a day with your family !

*********************

As you all were wearing casual clothes, almost unfashionable for some of you (Bruce and his black sweatpants, baseball cap and oversized hoodie…oh, what were you saying, that man always looked good), no paparazzis bothered you. They just couldn’t even fathom the fact that the great Wayne family would go out in ripped jeans, flannels, sweat pants, and old shirt that seemed to be a thousand years old ! You guys were always classy !

It was so good, to not be recognize. You could all be yourselves without fearing a silly picture to be posted in every papers the next day !

Like right now, in the fun house, making faces at each others, laughing your asses off when one would fall on a “trap”, dancing as if no one was watching to the stupid circus song that kept playing over and over again. You all had some great move. You completely lost it when Alfred, finally loosing his English phlegm, did the “arms wave dance” with your boys.

You could hug and kiss your Bruce without fearing articles being written the next day, with the pictures, judging you guys’ relationship…Everything was just great ! Your sons though, kept rolling your eyes at you two, whispering, or plainly saying out loud : “Get a room”, “PDA !!!” and other “Ew, gross”.

Damian won a gigantic teddy Bear for you at some darts game, that was bigger than him, and you thought it was the most hilarious thing ever to see him carry it all around the fun fair. The boy refused the help of his brothers and father, so he deserved his struggle, and damn, it was just too cute. He had to twist his neck on the side to be able to see where he was going, because that damn bear was so large ! When you thanked him with a kiss on the forehead, he looked just so proud of himself that it melted your heart a little bit. That boy.

Jason, making all of you laugh, won some water guns at the “hook-a-duck” game, that was suppose to be for little kids. Of course, the rest of the warm summer day was spent spraying each other.

Tim got thrown out of the “magic house” as he made it a mission to debunk absolutely every single “creatures” in it, and explained every single trick, in details, the magicians were performing. The owner, a very fat, dirty and bald character, grabbed him by the collar, and Bruce almost knocked the man out, no one was touching his babies ! …Fortunately, you got a hold of him before he could do anything, and Tim handled himself. You could understand the owner though, because your son was being a total buzzkill, and every visitors were leaving his attraction…

Dick decided to “test his strength” by using one of those machines where you put a couple of quarters in, and a ball would come down for you to punch, and then a number would tell you how “strong” you were. All the boys did it, even Alfred…Dick punched the hardest, breaking the score that was the highest before he tried…Until Bruce tried too, and broke the machine because he punched too hard. He apologized to the owner of the machine, and gave him check for him to buy another one.

Everything was just great.

Until your sons’ energy was a bit too much. They wanted to do EVERYTHING. As soon as they finished an attraction, they were running to the next one, and you realized that you were not fit to follow them…But then a day that was starting to be too exhausting for you to really appreciate your family’s presence, too much at the same time, while it started so great..turned perfect.

Bruce gave you a piggy back ride through the fun fair, and things were good again. You could follow your children with ease, comfortably snuggled against his back, and you had easy access to his neck, jaw, temple and hair…All the places he liked to be kissed and caressed. Bonus point because your actions grossed out your sons a lot.

You were so glad you decided to go to the fun fair everything was so perfect…a few other accidents happened besides Bruce broking the punching machine, and Tim being thrown out of the magic house.

Damian punched a man disguised as a werewolf in the haunted house, because he jump scared him, and you guys all ran out of the place…until he realized he forgot his giant teddy bear inside, and went back in, just to punch the werewolf man once again because the fool was trying to grab him, while yelling “SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE PLEASE”…You avoided the Haunted House area until the end of the day.

Jason ate too many candies, and threw up everything after he went on the tea cups attraction…You couldn’t help but telling him : “I told you son”, as, indeed, you warned him all day that he was going to get sick with all this sugar combined with fun fair stuffs. Even the carousel made him gag…

Dick almost got punched in the face for flirting with the girlfriend of some very jealous guy. Of course, he didn’t realized the girl had a boyfriend. He escaped with a laugh that infuriated the dude, and a few backflips that impressed the girl…and was able to slip his number in her pocket. Of course he would.

Tim got stuck in the “hamster wheel” of one of the fun house because Damian kept throwing his giant teddy bear at him…and both you and Bruce had to separate them before they would get in a violent fist fight. You made them hold hands the rest of the day as a punishment. Yours and your husband constant snickering towards them got the lesson through their head. Alright, no more fighting…in front of the parents.

And finally, the boys convinced Alfred to go with them in the biggest roller coaster on the fair, even though their favorite butler kept refusing their proposal as he said “rollercoasters made him sick”…He just couldn’t resist them. He considered them his grandchildren, he felt obligated to please them. And so here you all were, on a gigantic rollercoaster and…Damian, who was sitting next to Alfred, turned, and the panic on his face scared you.

-MOM, DAD, PENNYWORTH JUST FAINTED !!!! AL’ !! HE’S NOT OK !!

You all rushed around your loved butler to see if he was alright at the end of the ride, and with a weak voice, as he was waking up, he just said :

-I told you those made me sick…I don’t like heights too much…

And that marked the end of your day. It was getting quite late anyway, almost time for patrol. Dick and Jason supported Alfred back to the car, and Bruce went behind the wheel, forbidding his dear butler to drive, and once you all got home, he forced him to go take some rest.

Your boys felt extremely guilty that they almost broke their Al’…

********************

Before going to sleep, you checked on Alfred, bringing him some hot tea…that he never drunk as he was already in a deep slumber when you came in his room. You put the blanket back up to his neck, and with a kiss on your adoptive father’s forehead, you felt him, leaving a note telling him that if he needed anything he should just ring you, even though you knew he probably would never do it…

You went to bed late, but not late enough for your children and husband to be home, and you slipped into your king sized bed alone.

It was alright though, you knew your Bruce was going to warm the place next to you soon enough (you hoped it would be another “calm night”)…And the day you spent with him and all yours boys charged you up so much on family time that it was fine.

You made a mental note to take them to the fair again some day, but after a very exhausting night, so that their energy would be a bit lower.

********************

The sun was already rising in the sky when you felt Bruce’s side of the bed shifting, and his arms wrapping around you, squeezing you on his naked chest.

-Calm night ?

You asked hesitantly.

-Very calm. Bruise and scratch less.

You smiled, and turned around into his embrace so that you’d face him.

-Good. I like those.

-I like you.

-I love you.

-Yeah, that too. I love you (Y/N).

You stare at each other for a bit, each enjoying the presence of the love of your life, until a mischievous smile appears on your face :

-The night was calm enough to leave you with some energy ?

-You betcha sweetheart.

And on that note, he is on you, his lips crashed on yours, and his hand roaming your body. Damn you loved that man. And if you could hear his thoughts, what his heart said, you’d realize he loves you even more.

[holdencaulf1eld]

Ex nihilo nihil fit

Ex nihilo nihil fit

July 12, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I fear that I have turned into a ghost. My hands have stopped working the way they’re supposed to. Now, they’re always shaking and fidgeting as if looking for something that cannot be found or cannot be held. I don’t notice it but sometimes my nails dig into the palms of my hand. Now there are tiny scars that form to showcase my anxiety. My words escape my mouth, tumbling over each other in an attempt to make sense of things.  I feel like I am only half submerged in the tides of this life. I am almost certain that I am slipping into oblivion.

xx

July 19, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I think I am jealous. By jealous I actually mean there is this giant green-eyed monster that is twisting and turning in its uncomfortable cradle inside of me. (also, by cradle I mean prison) Maybe, I’m taking things a little too far by calling it a monster but what difference does it make, really? 

We’ve all got monsters inside of us anyway. 

But I am getting ahead of myself with that one. 

What I really mean to say is, I am jealous.

Hold on.

Perhaps jealous is not the right term for it. It just doesn’t seem to cut it. I think maybe, I am full of resentment. There, that’s the word. Resentment. It is malevolent, vindictive, and unforgiving enough to encapsulate what I feel. But what’s new? I always have been the epitome of those words after all.

But this entry isn’t about me. It is about her. Wow, and here I thought no word could sound worse than “shit” or “moist” even “phlegm” (man, those are some really gross words) and then comes the word Her. Look at how the word drips with spiteful undercurrents and promises of tequila shots on Friday nights.

I won’t say her name because my tongue fills up with gunpowder waiting to explode.

xx

August 29, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

She says she never wants to grow up.

I guess we have that in common.

I’m sure I don’t want to grow up. But only because I’m still waiting for my bubblegum pink walls and a mother to sing me lullabies to calm the monsters in the closet.

xx

September 13, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I wonder if her father calls her his little princess, tucks her in at night in her canopy bed as he promises her he would catch all the stars for her if she wanted and put them in a mason jar right beside her bed.

I wonder if my father thinks twice about which hand he uses to strike me.

I wonder if he looks at the marks on my face and the red rings that circle my arms and regrets every bit of it.

xx

September 24, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

There is a boy a few hundred miles away that helps with the shaking.

But he loved her first.

He loved her first.

He loved her first.

He loved her first.

xx

September 25, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

He says he doesn’t love her anymore and swears that he’s moved on.

I don’t believe a single word of it.

You can blow out a match but you can’t tame a forest fire.

xx

October 30, 20xx

Dear Froggy,  

It’s funny because whenever he describes his ideal girl he doesn’t use adjectives. Instead he whispers a name. 

Gunpowder, again. 

xx

November 12, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

They say that the most broken people are also the most beautiful.

If that is true then why is it that I feel like a thousand natural disasters

every time I compare myself to her?

xx

November 20, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I think my palms have formed tiny nail shaped constellations.

The marks are still pinkish and in the threshold of bleeding.

xx

November 28, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I can count the number of times my mother has uttered the words “I love you” to me in one hand. Because of this, I don’t think I ever really learned what the phrase should sound like. But what I do know is, the way she said it to me and to my father was not it. I don’t know whether it was her intonation or her pronunciation or maybe it is the way her voice sounded weary and unsure as if she was making a promise she already knew she could not keep.

I bet she knows just the way an “I love you” should sound like.

I bet they were hand picked and delivered right at her doorstep by the most careful of hands.

I bet she probably has a string of those words tapered across her bedroom wall for all the world to see.

I bet she’ll never have to live a day worrying about the sincerity of those words because she is foreign to the possibility of an unsafe “I love you”

I bet all the times my mother said I love you to me that she will always have an “I love you” waiting for her at the end of the day. But that’s a wager that isn’t worth much.

xx

December 1, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

She——-

Nope, not even gonna bother with this one.

xx

December 15, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

Today someone called me beautiful.

A little boy the age of about 4-5 asked me if I was a fairy straight from a Disney classic because he swore he saw me leave a trail of fairy dust in my wake and that he’s never seen someone who looked like they always belonged somewhere else. Somewhere better.

Today someone called me beautiful.

Yea, I’m just as confused as you are 

xx

December 17 , 20xx

Dear Froggy,

Steady. Steady. Steady.

My hands are slowly learning the art of steadiness.

xx

December 29, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I am sitting in P’s front seat watching the pitter-patter of raindrops on his window. The scars on the insides of my hands have begun disappearing; little by little the indentations have lightened.

I turn to P and crumble at the sight of him, smiling eyes and crooked teeth.

I burst out crying, floodgates of all my uncertainties gushing out. I tell him all about the girl, my father and mother. He takes my hand and asks me to describe the color gold without saying the color itself.

I tried and laughed at the futility of it all.

He tells me that’s what its like to have me in his life, a constant battle to describe his favorite color without words.

Apparently, I am his golden girl.

He tells me I am like those crazy Friday nights and cozy Sunday mornings all rolled into one.

He tells me I am Tokyo when cherry blossoms bloom and Santorini in the summer when the sun kisses the clear blue water and docks welcome back fishermen to their wistful wives.

He told me the first time he heard me cry was the first time he understood what heartbreak felt like.

I turn away because of the utter stupidity of all his stupid analogies (and yes, i’m aware i’ve used stupid one too many times today) so I gaze out through the windowpane. He laughs, I melt into the folds of his familiarity.

He drives away, across the freeway and into the fog. I fall asleep.

Heart on my sleeves bleeding gold and blue.

December 31, 20xx

Dear Froggy,

I guess its okay that I’m a little shattered. 

I guess I have come to terms that there are people like her and then there are people like me. Relish in the dichotomy of it all. 

I guess its fine that he loved her first. After all, If P can see me this way I’m sure he can too.

I guess the world will just have to make space for a thousand separate graves because I fully intend to leave this life this fragmented.

I guess I’ll just have to face my wonderful God, resplendent in all His glory and say to him “I am nothing now. I have given every part of me away to those who needed it. This is me, stripped and bare. To dust I have returned.”

ex nihilo nihil fit

xx