#i got woken up at 2am and couldn’t get back to sleep so i wrote this

[feneku]

Rescue Operation

Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence, a few f bombs

Tags: Slight F!Drifter/Ordis(Ordan), Pan!Ordis, Pan!Drifter, Post-Jade Shadows

~1.2k words

Ordis gets rescued after being kidnapped by Granum. He’s a bit of a damsel in distress here, but he gets to say fuck.

I do take constructive criticism (I will cry, but I’ll take the advice) just NOT if it’s about shipping. I’m not a skilled writer but I tried.

Alarms blared throughout the Corpus ship. Explosions and gunfire could be heard in the distance. The cephalon blinked slowly as he came to consciousness. He looked around what appeared to be a medical bay. A very advanced medical bay by the looks of it. He scowled as the memory of the Corpus assault on their camp came back to him. How they managed to distract his Operator while a lone Sister had infiltrated the Orbiter and… Damn Granum, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Motherfucker never could take no for an answer.” He growled to himself and wondered how long he’d been unconscious. Another explosion went off somewhere far away. Long enough for the Operator to locate him it seemed. Odd that the Corpus apparently left him alone. Were they too trusting or was the situation outside just that bad?

He pushed himself up from the bed with some effort. His body felt so stiff and awkward. He looked around again taking in the room. Eventually, his eyes settled on a glass cube, cracked, damaged. Dim. He stared. He looked at his hands. Realization hit him like a Grineer Thumper. That had been him. A multitude of emotions and nausea washed over him and he fell back onto the bed. It was all a little too much for him. He laid there for a while head spinning.

Another alarm sounded, shocking him out of his panic. An automated announcement warned that a section of the ship had just been exposed to vacuum. He couldn’t stay here, he needed to move. Move, find her, and get the fuck out of… where-ever this ship was.

He took a deep breath. He could do this, he swung his legs over the side and went to stand. Legs. Right. He’s had those before, he knows how to use them. Surely, it’s like riding a kaithe. Ordis slowly put his weight onto his feet and tried to take a step.

He stumbled and fell to the ground. Fuck.

The door suddenly snapped open and a woman shoved a corpus MedTech, hand covering his mouth and impaled on her sword, through it. She kicked the body off her blade, looked down at him and raised her sword-

He stared at her in amazement and an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, “O-operator?” By stars she looked good splattered with blood. He froze. Something wasn’t right here… he narrowed his eyes at her. “Where is your Warframe?”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in shock, “Ordis! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” She finished off the tech that had been trying to use the momentary distraction to reach for his comm. “Granum’s forces deployed some sort of field that disables them. Modified Sentient tech, I think.” She sheathed her nikana and held out a hand, “Are you hurt? Can you stand?”

He blanched and wondered how much of that blood was hers as opposed to Corpus. He took her hand and let her help him up. “I… I’m uninjured but… I’m not used to having a body again, yet.” He frowned, concerned. She shouldn’t have come for him, the risk of her dying… was an unpleasant thought. Fuck. It made him dizzy thinking about it.

Oblivious to his internal distress, she seemed relieved at hearing he wasn’t injured, “Good. Sorry, but we don’t have much time.” She kept hold of his hand and helped him towards the door. They could address the other aspects of his physical state when they weren’t at risk of getting shot at. She hadn’t missed the jade green glow to his eyes. What has Granum done to you? She wondered if he’d noticed it yet. He stumbled again and she wrapped an arm around him.

“I set off some explosions on the far side of the ship, but they’ll figure out it’s a distraction soon.” The Operator looked at her map display. Thankfully, there was an airlock nearby. She keyed for the liset to dock and checked the hall before exiting. Good. It was empty. She squeezed his hand, whether it was to reassure him or her, she couldn’t tell. He wasn’t exactly steady on his feet, but she could support him.

All those long months she had spent sabotaging and freeing prisoners from Narmer camps paid off. Sneaking through the ship to extraction was almost uneventful in comparison with most of the crew occupied. Dodging cameras and patrols was easy enough even with a recently re-bodied cephalon stumbling along with her. They only had a few incidents where she had had to stealthily dispatch a patrol that had been in their way.

Well, almost uneventful. As they approached their destination the Operator heard a voice barking orders that made her blood run cold. Vala Glarios, she must’ve come down from the bridge to personally handle things. The Operator shoved Ordis into one of the maintenance hallways and motioned for him to be quiet. She could handle a few Corpus troops, but a Sister too? Now wasn’t the time to find out if she could take one on without a frame. She took out a datapad and with a few taps… more explosions rang out through the ship.

Ordis looked at her in surprise. He leaned in and whispered, “Just how many bombs did you plant on this ship?”

She flashed, what some might call, an unhinged grin at him and whispered back, “A few.”

But that had gotten the leader of the Sister’s attention. She was rounding up the crew under her command and running in the direction of the newest explosion intent on catching their intruder. The Operator was once again gripping his hand, like she’d lose him if she didn’t. They made it to the airlock where a countdown had started, the lights were still red, locked. The Operator squeezed Ordis’ hand again in worry and looked back, praying Vala wouldn’t return. Those sixty seconds felt like an eternity. The locks on the door made a deep clack as the lights turned green. They were almost free.

“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to get real close…” She looked at him with a little bit of embarrassment as she moved them into the airlock proper.

“What do you mean-“ Oh. Oh. He looked down at the smaller woman. “That… That’s not meant to fit two people.”

“I know but we don’t exactly have another option right now.” She desperately avoided eye contact with him as she pushed him towards the liset. They’d have to be quick because the sensors would trigger as soon as he was in.

As he pressed himself into place she mirrored his movements immediately. Hand over hand, face pressed into his chest, she stood on tiptoes to fit. He tried to not think about how fucking close she was to him, closed his eyes, and did his best to make room for her. As soon as he put his head back he felt the sensors click and the capsule began to rotate. It was a tight fit, but it worked.

The Operator shoved open the hatch and they climbed into the cockpit of the liset. She collapsed in front of the navigation console and punched in a destination - Lua. The small ship shuddered as the mag locks disengaged and the liset tipped away from the Corpus Obelisk. There was a small rumble as the main engines engaged… and they were home free.

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Charmed I’m Sure [G.W.]

Description: George is in desperate need of assistance with his Charms essay and he turns to you. Working together brings you closer than you expected.

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I wrote a bunch of these short stories/one shots a while ago that I decided to post them on here! Keep in mind I wrote this one AGES ago, so I know this one isn’t great but it sets the scene for some of the others I have. As I post these, they should get better :) Also I’m new to posting fics on Tumblr so bear with me as a work the kinks out

                                                           X

 “Hermione, please!?!?” You heard from across the common room. 

“For the last time George, no! I will not write your Charms essay for you!” Hermione said. 

“But it’s due tomorrow and I haven’t even started yet!” 

“Sorry, that’s your problem. I’ve got other things to work on.” She left the common room and you chuckled quietly to yourself. 

“Waiting until last minute again, are we?” you asked George. He gave you a look that said it all.  

“If you’re going to give me the speech about being more responsible and managing my time more wisely you can just skip it because I’ve heard that one too many times.” 

“Me lecture? Never.” 

He rolled his eyes and you said, “Come here, what’s this essay about.” 

He sat down next to you on the couch and said,  “Y/N, you’re brilliant at Charms! Will you please write this for me!?” 

“Write it for you? No. But I will help you with it.” 

He hugged you suddenly and said, “Thank yoooooou!” 

“Easy. You can thank me when you finish the essay. I think you’re putting a little too much faith in me. I’m a year behind you so I might not even know about what you’re learning.” 

“Eh semantics,” he said nonchalantly and you gave him a skeptical look. But sure enough, it was a topic you were familiar with. You helped him form a thesis and explained some of the critical information he needed. He put quill to parchment  as you verbally gave him some sentences to include. As you sat there with him, you noticed he started to form his own words on the subject and everything he was writing was accurate. He seemed to be comfortable working on his own, so you pulled out some of your own work but sat with him for moral support.

After several hours, he convinced you to take  a break with him. He set aside his parchment and said, “So, Y/N. How have you been?” 

“I am just peachy. Things have been going quite well for me recently.” 

“Things always go your way. Your Irish blood brings you luck.” 

You shrugged and said, “Is that why you wanted my help? Because I’m lucky?” 

“No, it was more because you’re wicked smart. And I missed talking to you. I haven’t seen you much this year.” 

“Yeah I guess it has been a while. It’s mostly because you and Fred are always working on a prank of some sort.” 

“And you’re always talking to someone different, Miss Socialite.” 

“Oh that is not true. I’m just friendly.” 

“Sure,” he said with an eye roll. 

“Any good pranks in the works?” 

“Y/N,” he chucked, “I know that you’re dying to be a part of one of our infamous pranks, but I don’t think you’re qualified.” 

“I think you’re underestimating me. Think about it, filling me in on a prank would be very beneficial for you.” 

“Oh? And why is that?” 

“Because I’m logical and detail oriented. I think of everything, therefore there would be no chance of error. And, you know, I’m fun to be around.” 

“I will agree with you on the latter part. We do need to hang out more. Outside of quidditch.” 

“Well you should remember that and ask me to hang out sometime. I’m sure you’d much rather spend time with me while we’re doing something fun instead of writing an essay. And speaking of essay...” George groaned and went back to his books. 

“Come on, you  only have a few paragraphs left to write.” He started writing again and you looked up at the clock and noticed it was 2AM. You let out a big yawn and felt yourself become tired immediately. 

“You sound tired. You should go to bed. I don’t have much left to write, I can handle it,” he said. 

You shook your head and replied, “No, I’m okay. I’ll stay up with you.” 

“It’s good enough as it is. I can bullshit the next few paragraphs.” 

“Nope. I’m staying here. If I leave, who's to say you won’t fall asleep?” 

“Yeah, fair point.” 

By this time the two of you were sitting on the ground in the common room with your books sprawled out and your backs leaning against the couch, directly in front of the fireplace. You started getting cold so you grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. As you continued your reading assignment, you kept checking in on George to make sure he was getting work done.

“How’s it going?” you asked. 

“I’m just trying to get this thing done. I don’t care how good my writing is as long as I get my point across.” 

“Okay,” you yawned. A moment later you found your head was resting on his left shoulder. He noticed but he didn’t seem to mind. Soon you felt your eyelids flutter over your eyes and you were out.

                                                            X

You woke up the next morning and found yourself in a room that was not your own. It was not the common room either. It was definitely a dorm but whose, you weren’t sure. 

“Morning sunshine,” someone said. You looked up to find George’s face smiling down at you. 

“Morning,” you mustered, as enthusiastically as you could. “Where am I exactly?” 

“In my room. See last night you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. I was going to carry you to your room but that wasn’t an option, with the enchantments and all. So I just took you to the next place I could think of, which was here.” 

“You could have woken me up. Or just left me on the couch in the common room, you know?” 

“Sure I could’ve, but you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. And the common room was a bit nippy. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in my bed.” 

“Well that was very sweet of you. But where did you sleep?” 

“On the floor. I grabbed some spare pillows and blankets and-” 

“George! You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. You really should have just left me in the common room. I would’ve been fine. I never meant to take your bed.” 

“I just wanted you to be comfortable. Any gentleman would have done the same thing. Now please stop arguing with me because there isn’t anything you can do to change it.” 

You opened your mouth to say something but found you had nothing to say. Instead, you slouched and crossed your arms, clearly annoyed with his previous statement. 

“How did the essay come out?” 

“I showed it to Hermione already and she said it looked decent. I just need a passing grade. If I pass this, I pass the class.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize this paper was so important...” 

“You did all you could. Most of it was on me, for being a slacker. But thank you. I’m really happy we got to hang out for a bit last night.” 

You smiled at him. “Me too. And it’s no problem. Really.” 

You left his room and headed to your room, receiving a few  curious looks on the way. Last night made you realize how much you had missed George. You used to be best friends growing up, but recently you drifted apart. You were still friends, but nowhere near as close as you used to be. You only hoped he would take your advice and ask you to hang out soon.

                                                           X

“Y/N!” You turned around to see who was calling you. It was George and he seemed very excited about something. You excused yourself from your current conversation and headed to see George. 

 “Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

“Oh have you?” 

“Yes! Guess what?” 

“Do you really want me to guess? Because I’m not a great guesser.” 

“I got my paper back and I got an O!” 

“O as in outstanding!? That’s amazing!” 

“I owe it all to you! You practically wrote the paper for me.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short. You did all the heavy lifting on that paper. I was just there for moral support.” 

“You really don’t understand do you? You are the reason I passed! I couldn’t have done this without you” 

“I’m really happy for you George! I can’t remember the last time I saw you this excited.” 

“I am over the moon!” He embraced you in a hug and picked you up off the ground and spun you around. When he finally put you down, you just smiled at him. Then the last thing you ever expected to happen happened. His face became suddenly serious and he leaned in and kissed you. It was a relatively short kiss. It seemed like he just did it without thinking because he quickly pulled back and his face was that of panic and shock. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” he started, before you cut him off. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down towards you to kiss him again, this time more passionately. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you reacted by snaking your arms around his neck. 

George pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed. 

“Well good, because you’re about to do it again.”

[writerwhowritesao3]

Director's Commentary on Talk To A Green Tree?

Oh hai!! Director’s Commentary under the cut ‘cause it’s a lengthy one, love. 

I wanted to write this story because I wanted to explore the relationship between Billy and Susan. I wrote about their relationship somewhat in my first story, Jump In The Fire, but that wasn’t the main purpose or focus of that fic; the main focus of Jump In The Fire was the beginning of Billy’s relationship with Steve (jumping in at the Harringrove angle) and also setting up friendship relationships between Billy, Nancy, and Jonathan—and, of course, also to “fix” Billy’s relationship with Max. 

In Jump in the Fire, I wanted to make it clear that Billy’s relationship with Susan isn’t contentious or bitter—if anything, they have a good-to-okay relationship. Billy has trouble letting Susan in and has very conflicting feelings about her, and understandably so. He’s traumatized and hurt from the fact that his biological mother, Sandra, outright abandoned him with his abusive father when he was ten; he has major trust issues and a fear of abandonment stemming from that. 

Still, Billy does like Susan. Loves her, when you get down to it. It would be hard not to like a woman who’s been a maternal figure in your life since you were 11/12. But Billy feels conflicted about his feelings towards Susan for three main reasons:

1) He’s not over his own mother’s abandonment

In all honesty, Susan being concerned about Billy's wellbeing didn't come as much of a surprise. In the four-and-a-half years that she and Neil had been married, Susan had taken her role as Billy's stepmother very seriously. At points, even bordering on "replacement mother" territory. If Billy was being truthful with himself, he didn't hate Susan. Hell, he may have even admitted to liking her. And if Billy was feeling extra introspective, he would have admitted that the only thing that compelled him to keep Susan at arm's length was that he still wasn't over the fact that his own mother abandoned him. (Jump in the Fire, chapter 4)

2) He’s angry that Susan doesn’t stop Neil from abusing him (although he acknowledges that it really isn’t her fault...and as mentioned in another chapter, she doesn’t know how bad Neil gets when she’s not home)

Of course, there was also the lingering and maybe-unreasonable resentment that Susan was unable to stop her husband from beating him. But in all fairness, his own mom couldn't do that either. (Jump in the Fire, chapter 4)

2) He’s afraid to acknowledge his feelings because he’s afraid that one day, Susan will leave Neil—and Billy—, taking Max with her. 

The other great thing about his dad not being home was that the mood around the house was a lot lighter. It wasn't anything overt or obvious, it was just the general atmosphere. Billy wasn't as tense; even a little more jokey with Max and Susan. He and Max didn't have to watch their language as much. Even Susan seemed just slightly happier and more relaxed when it was just the three of them in the house.

Billy noticed it. He'd been noticing it for years. And it scared the shit out of him. (Jump in the Fire, chapter 11)

There’s also another reason for Billy’s conflicting feelings: he thinks that accepting Susan as a mom or mother figure would be a betrayal to Sandra (who he has not spoken to since he was 10...)

"Sounds good," Billy smiled softly. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah, you should," Susan said. "It's late. 'Night, honey."

"'Night, Mom," Billy said as he turned around to head to his room.

He didn't realize what he had said until he was halfway down the hall. Didn't realize that the word "mom" had slipped out of his mouth so effortlessly. He didn't know if Susan had caught the slip. Couldn't bring himself to look back to see if she had noticed it or even heard it. Couldn't help but wonder if, on the chance Susan had caught it, she minded. Or if she resented it because she wasn't his mom. Or if she didn't care either way. Unable to stop his mind from going there, Billy wondered how his actual mother would feel about him calling another woman "mom."

Billy went to sleep that night with the terrible feeling that he committed some horrible, irreparable betrayal. (Jump in the Fire, chapter 11)

Chapter 12 of Jump in the Fire is the first time I wrote anything from Susan’s perspective. In those sections, I wanted to make it clear that Susan not only loves Billy and considers him to be her son, but that she has absolutely no intention of abandoning him. Susan is an adult woman and so she has the insight and emotional maturity to understand why Billy has a hard time fully trusting her and letting himself relax around her. 

I also wanted to make it clear that although Susan knows that Neil hits Billy, she doesn’t actually know the full extent of it. She has her suspicions, and that’s absolutely part of the reason why she chooses to stay married to Neil: she does not want to leave Billy alone with him. 

ANYWAY

I’m writing Talk to a Green Tree to further explore the mother-son relationship between Billy and Susan because I didn’t focus closely enough on it in Jump in the Fire. The fic is written in both Susan and Billy’s perspectives.

The first three chapters of Talk to a Green Tree are about events/ moments that occur pre-Hawkins and the last three chapters are about events/moments that happen when they’re living in Hawkins. 

The focus on two of the chapters are actually mentioned in Chapter 5 of Jump in the Fire. 

The first chapter takes place during the first year of their new family. As mentioned in the chapter, Billy gets horribly sick when he’s 12 years old, and Susan takes a week off of work to stay home with him and take care of him. 

(spoilers if you guys give a shit lol) The next chapter to be published (Chapter three) takes place the summer before they move to Hawkins, when Billy is 15 (almost 16). The chapter is about Billy being drugged and raped at a party and how the next morning, he lets himself be (almost) completely vulnerable with Susan. 

...with the anger came guilt—guilt at feeling angry at Susan because, fuck, she did not deserve that. When he was twelve years old, about seven months after Susan and Neil had said their vows, a severe flu had gone around Billy's school; Billy had caught it. Susan had taken a week off of work to stay home with him. She had kept him hydrated, made him soup, rubbed his back when he threw up. Even helped him into the bath when his 103º fever broke and he felt clammy and sweaty and weak from the illness.

And then, of course, there was the incident in June, a week before Neil broke Billy's collarbone. When Neil was on a weekend trip with his work buddies and Billy had gone to a college party he had no business going to. Had gone to a party and came home at two in the morning, blasted out of his mind despite only drinking one beer. Had spent the entire next day going from curled up and shivering in bed to kneeling on the bathroom floor with his head in the toilet. He had stuffed his blood-stained underwear to the bottom of his trashcan, double-bagged it, and tossed it into the neighbors' trash bin that night.

Susan had taken care of him as best she could with the very limited information that she had. Had given him water and held his hair back, even when he was just dry heaving. Had fucking held him when he cried and cried and couldn't stop.

"Did something happen at the party?" Susan asked softly, rubbing circles onto Billy's back. He shuddered and nodded into her tear-soaked neck. He was practically in her lap. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Billy gasped out. He took a few shaky breaths. Tried to get his tears under control. Failed. "Please don't tell my dad," he begged.

"I won't, sweetheart, I won't," she soothed. She stroked his hair. He cried harder. "I got you, honey, you're okay."

She kept her word and she never pushed him to tell her what happened. She never even brought it up again. (Jump in the Fire, chapter 5)

That chapter is honestly tricky to write. The first part is in Billy’s perspective and actually goes into exactly what happened to him and the second part is in Susan’s perspective, starting with being woken up at 2AM because a sorority girl brings a very out-of-it Billy back home, going into her being pissed off that Billy a) lied about where he was going and b) seems to have gotten so shit-faced that he’s violently ill the next morning...and then having the horrible realization that Billy is probably not just hungover and then having the awful, instinctual feeling that Something Happened to him. 

ANYWAY

I guess at its core, Talk to a Green Tree is about the formation and evolution of a blended family that’s affected by domestic violence and trauma. And it’s about Susan really doing her best to be a good mom to Billy...and about Billy eventually being able to trust Susan and acknowledge to himself that even though Susan isn’t his mother, she is his mom in every way that counts. 

This was very fucking rambly haha.

[sunshinejs]

Not on You, Not on Us

A/N: I’m back and I wrote a little angst piece so I hope you enjoy this one!

these times are hard, they’re making us crazy, don’t give up on me baby - For The First Time by The Script

————————————————————

Word count: 3.4k -ish

“Day and night, you’re out all the time!” You yelled back “Where the hell do you even go, Connor?!”

“I tell you I’m at work all the time! Why is that so hard to believe?!” Connor snapped “Where the fuck do you think I’d be at?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, letting out a scoff “Last week you told me you were working late but then Brian calls me at 2am asking me to pick up your drunk ass from the bar. So, do you see why I have trouble believing your whereabouts?”

“One night!” He exclaimed “I needed to relax and have fun with my friends for one night and you can’t even let me enjoy that? God, why the hell are you so uptight?!”

“Connor, it’s literally fucking common sense!” You snarled “The least you can do is truthfully tell me where you really are so I’m not panicking like a crazy woman over here, imagining the worst thing! You’re not a 20-year-old guy anymore for God’s sake! You have a wife and kid now!”

You turn away from him, heading to your side of the bed when something he mumbled made you froze in your position.

“Well, maybe 20-year-old me was living a better life”

You felt like your heart stopped beating at that second. The tears found its way to your eyes as you felt your lip start to tremble “Yeah, well no one is asking you to stay”

You slide into bed, laid on your side and zoned out at the wall. Connor didn’t say anything else as he went over to his side of the bed and did the same thing you were doing. The fight has gone too far this time around and he knew that.

You couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth.

He didn’t mean it. You kept repeating to yourself. That’s just the anger talking.

xxx

It has been a solid week since that argument blew up. You knew it was just another rough patch in your marriage because there were a few other arguments prior to that heated one. Whatever you or Connor said easily ticked off the other person and you didn’t know how to explain why.

But that one? That was the last straw.

You and Connor have been giving each other the silent treatment and neither refusing to apologize or to even bring it up. Separate dinners, putting up a barrier of pillows between each other when you were sleeping and leaving the house unannounced in the morning was considered to be normal after days pass by.

Connor continued to work till late, burying his nose underneath the ton of paperwork on his desk and only came home after you and Darcy were fast asleep.

Truth be told, he didn’t know how he could face you. As soon as those words left his mouth, he instantly regretted it. He hasn’t even properly looked you in the eyes because he couldn’t stand to see the sadness in your eyes, knowing that he was the cause of it. He felt like a fucking jackass for saying all those shit he didn’t mean during the fights you had. And even more because he hasn’t seen or spent time with his daughter for the past few days.

xxx

It was finally a Friday night, which meant it was movie night in the Brashier household. After dinner with Darcy, the both of you were curled up on the couch while watching her favourite, Coco. Darcy was cuddled up by your side while holding her favourite stuffed turtle close to her chest and a bowl of popcorn was resting on your lap.

Connor pulled up his car in the driveway next to yours. By the amount of lights switched on in the ground floor of the house, he could tell that you and Darcy were still awake. He switched off the engine and got out of the car.

As he walks into the house, he took off his favourite pair of shoes and placed it on the shoe rack that was nearby the front door of the house. He could already hear the sound of the movie coming from the living room as he walked deeper into the house.

Darcy was the first one to notice his presence in the living room. Her eyes lit up as she sees his person standing by the entrance of the room. She jumped off the couch, which startled you a bit, abandoned her turtle on the couch and ran towards him “Daddy!”

“Lovebug!” Connor cheered as he picks her up and places a kiss on her cheek “Hi there, baby. Got a kiss for daddy?”

As angry as you were at him, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of you. Darcy is such a daddy’s girl and she has Connor wrapped around her pretty little finger.

Darcy giggles and procced to press a kiss on each of his cheek “There you go, daddy!”

“Thank you, sweat pea” He smiled at her as he ran his fingers through her hair “How was school today? Did you have a good day?”

“Uh huh!” She nodded with excitement in her voice “Ms. Jane said I had the best painting in class! And Ben brought cookies to school today and only shared them with me!”

“Really? That’s great, baby!” Connor exclaims as he sets her down on her feet again. He then caught onto her last sentence and narrowed his eyes at her “And who might this Ben be, lovebug?”

He doesn’t miss the way his daughter’s cheeks turn red as she shook her head “He’s just my friend, daddy!”

“He better be, pumpkin”

“Mummy and I are watching Coco” Darcy said, motioning to you on the couch as she held onto his larger hand and tried to tug him towards the couch “Come watch with us, daddy!”

“Actually baby, daddy’s feeling a little tired right now” Connor tries to reason with her “Is it okay if daddy sits this one out?”

Darcy frowns, “But we haven’t spent time together as a family in a while, daddy. Please?”

“I’m sorry, lovebug but next time, okay?” He smiles sadly at her “I promise”

She pouts at him and held out her pinkie to him “Pinkie promise?”

Connor intertwines his pinkie with hers “Pinkie promise, angel” He promised, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her hair “I love you, baby. Good night”

And that was it. He bid goodnight to Darcy and immediately left the room, not even taking a glance at you.

You were lying to yourself if you said that didn’t hurt. Your own husband acted like you weren’t in the room and that sting a bit. You tried your best to not break down right there; you couldn’t let Darcy see you in that state.

Darcy returned to her spot next to you and the frown never left her face. She was only 6 years old but she knew when something didn’t feel right between her parents and this, was one of those times.

A few minutes later, Darcy spoke up “Mummy?”

You turn your attention away from the screen and towards your little girl “Mhm?”

“Are you and daddy okay?”

You tried to not look surprise by her question, faking a smile as you lied “Yeah, baby”

“He didn’t kiss you like he always does” She bite her lower lip as the sadness took over her tone “That means things aren’t good, right?”

Yeah, she was clever for a little girl.

You sigh, knowing there was no point to continue to lie to her.

“Daddy and mummy just had an argument, lovebug” You explained, running your fingers through her hair “And daddy has a lot of work to do right now so he’s extra tired right now but things are okay. Don’t worry about it, okay baby?

Darcy nodded and snuggled into your side “Okay”

She was fast asleep as the credits rolled. You turned off the TV and picked her up. After making sure are the lights were off, you made your way up the stairs and towards Darcy’s room.

You tucked her into bed, pulling the sheets over her chest and made sure to leave her night light on. You smile at her sleeping form and pressed a kiss to her forehead “I love you the most, lovebug”

Shutting the door quietly behind you, you stared at the master bedroom opposite from Darcy’s room. The room was left slightly ajar but it was dark, which meant Connor was already fast asleep.

You couldn’t stand another night being in the same bed with him if it meant that it was going to feel cold and lack of love. You shook your head and decided to head downstairs towards your library.

After shutting the door, you let your body fell against the couch and pulled the blanket, that was neatly folded at the arm of the couch, over your body. Work was getting stressful, the fights with Connor was driving you crazy and the silent treatment wasn’t helping at all. Tears were forming in your eyes as you thought of all the words that were yelled out during your arguments, one of which has been haunting you for the past few days.

Well, maybe 20-year-old me was living a better life.

Did he really mean that? Was that his way of telling you that he was miserable now and wanted to get a divorce?

You let out a sob as you stared at the ceiling. Every time when Connor is comforting you after a fight, he’s always saying “no problem is too big for us to solve as a couple”.

But was that still true? Were you going to patch things up this time?

xxx

Connor was woken up by someone lightly shaking his shoulder. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is his daughter’s frame standing next to his side of the bed. His side of the lamp was switched on and he could see the tears streaming down her face.

“Lovebug?” Connor asks softly as he quickly sits up and scoops Darcy into his arms while she sobbed into his shoulder “Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Where’s mummy?” Darcy asks in between sobs and he could hear the fear linger in her voice “I had a dream she left us so I came here and she’s not here! Why is she not here, daddy?”

Connor turns slightly, looking over his shoulder to look at your side of the bed, which remained untouched; just like how he remembered before he went to sleep. He looked towards the walk-in closet connected to the bedroom; in hoping to see some sort of light indicating you were in the bathroom but it was pitch black.

He begins to panic now as Darcy continued to cry against his shoulder. No matter how bad the fights were, no matter what insult came out in the spite of anger, you two always went to sleep in the same bed. To find that you weren’t there right now was making him assume the worst.

“Baby, I’m sure mummy couldn’t sleep so she’s watching TV or something” Connor tried to convince her, but he wasn’t sure about that himself. He got out of bed, Darcy still in his arms as he stood up “We’ll go find her, okay?”

“Okay” She sniffled against his neck and at this point, her sobs were getting softer and softer.

There were only 4 rooms on the second floor; the master bed room, Darcy’s room and the 2 guest rooms, all which were empty. He then made his way downstairs in hoping you were catching up with a show in the living room or were making a late-night snack in the kitchen but everything was pitch black.

Conor felt his heart beating faster and faster. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt the tears forming in his eyes. Was this it? Was his worst nightmare actually happening to him right now?

And then an idea popped in his mind. The one place in this house he should’ve checked first because this was the only place you would go when you were stressed up.

Your library.

If he couldn’t find you here, then he knows he managed to ruin the best thing that’s ever happen to him.

As he pushed the door open and sees your person curled up on the couch, he lets out a sigh of relief.

 “Baby,” Connor calls out to Darcy as he lets her down on her feet “Mummy’s there, lovebug. She’s here”

In the midst of being in Connor’s arms, Darcy started to doze off to sleep at some point. But hearing what Connor said, she became alerted and wide awake again when she saw you. She ran towards you, jumping into your arms as she wailed out “Mummy!”

You were startled by her cries. Your mother instinct immediately pushed the blanket off and picked her up in your arms as you sat up “Hey, hey, princess, what’s going on? Why are you crying?”

Darcy didn’t respond as she tighten her grip around your neck and sobbed against your shoulder. You glanced over to the door and finally looked into your husband’s eyes for the first time that week and grew worried when you saw the tears in his eyes “Connor?” You called out softly “What happened?”

“I had a dream you left daddy and me!” Darcy cried out as she clings onto you for dear life like somebody was going to take you away from her “And then I went to your and daddy’s room and couldn’t find you so I really thought you left!”

“Oh, lovebug” You sigh softly, pressing a kiss to her head “It’s just a bad dream, baby. Mummy’s here, love. I’m not leaving you or daddy, Darcy”

“But you and daddy are fighting!” She sniffled against your shoulder “That means you don’t love each other, right?”

Connor pushed himself off the door frame, walked over to the couch and sat next to you “Darcy, baby, look at daddy” He ordered softly and she pulled away from your embrace just enough to face him.

He smiles softly at her, wiping away her tears “Lovebug, mummy and daddy are gonna have fights but that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other”

His eyes trailed over to yours as you took a deep breath “We just have to talk things through, baby” You assured her “But no one is leaving”

Darcy sniffed softly, looking hopeful as she held her pinkies out to you and Connor “Promise?”

You interlock your pinkie with hers and press a kiss to her knuckle while Connor mirrored your action with her other hand “We promise, princess”

“It’s late, baby” You told her as you ran your fingers through her locks “You’ve got to sleep, okay?”

The little girl nods, a soft yawn escaping from her lips as she rested her cheek against your shoulder “Love you daddy and mummy” She muttered sleepily.

“We love you too, lovebug” Connor whispers as he intertwines his fingers with her smaller ones “Very much”

Within minutes later, you could feel her steady breathing. You looked over at Connor and he nodded; confirming that the little girl was fast asleep.

“I’ll tuck her in bed” He says softly as he took Darcy out of your arms.

You followed him out of the library. As he made a turn to the stairs, you finally broke the silent treatment “I’m going to make tea, you want a cup?”

Your voice startled him a bit but he turned around and nodded with a soft smile “Yes please. Meet you outside?”

You made your way to the kitchen to make two mugs of tea. After that was done, you picked up the mugs and went to the living room, where the sliding door leading to the backyard was already left ajar.

This has always been your thing with Connor for quite some time. Late night tea together on the patio with just the both of you was one of your intimate moments with each other.

And since he asked you to meet him outside, you know he wants to talk about everything that has happened.

You stepped out of the house, immediately feeling the chill of the cold night on your arms as you made your way over to him on the porch swing. You set the mugs down on the table and took the spot next to him, leaving a small gap between you both.

After a few minutes, Connor finally broke the silence “Can I hold your hand, please?”

You didn’t reply him but reached over to his side, finding his hand and letting your fingers intertwined; like matching puzzles. He tugs you closer to him, closing any gaps there was between you.

“I’m sorry, baby” He said softly “I’m so fucking sorry”

“Did you mean what you said?” You asked; voice starting to crack and tears already forming in your eyes as you stared ahead into the darkness “When you said you were living a better life when you were 20?”

Without even letting him speak, you continued “Because, I know that your life back then was great, Con. You were traveling around the world, partying with celebrities, meeting so many amazing girls-,”

“No!” Connor answered with no hesitation, cutting you off “No, baby!”

He grabs a hold of your shoulders and turns you to face him. His watery eyes mirrored yours and it kills him every time to see you cry, especially now that he’s the reason for it “I didn’t mean any of those shit I said. You have to believe me, baby” Connor pleaded “I’m sorry that we’ve been fighting a lot, I’m sorry that I’ve been such a shitty husband to you and a shitty dad to Darcy. I’m sorry I messed up badly this time”

“Then why, Connor?” You questioned defeatedly “Why have we been fighting so much? Why does it feel like I’m losing you? Why does it feel like you don’t love me anymore?”

He shakes his head, letting the tears fall down his cheeks “No, no, don’t say that!” Connor says shakily as his lips start to tremble “Baby, I love you so much and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”

“Then what is it, Connor?” You asked sadly “What’s happening to us? You’ve got to tell me what’s going on, bubs”

“There’s a restructuring going on in the company right now” He admitted “And they’re going to lay off a lot of people this time around…”

“I might lose my job” Connor went on “And that has been stressing me out for weeks and I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on you but I did and I feel so fucking awful about it”

“Oh, bubs,” You said softly “You’ve known about this for weeks but why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because it’s embarrassing!” Connor said frustratedly “I’m supposed to be the man of the house; the one who’s supposed to support his wife and daughter! How am I going to do that if I’m going to be unemployed?”

And you finally see it. You saw the wall your husband has built around himself for the past few weeks.

You looked into his eyes; seeing how broken he really felt about all this “Connor, I’m your wife” You told him “We promised that we wouldn’t keep any secrets from each other and you shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed by this, especially when it’s me”

Connor shakes his head “I promised you when we got married that I’d give you the best…. How am I gonna do that if I don’t have the job?”

“Hey,” You call softly, bringing your intertwined hands up to your lip and pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. Smiling warmly at him “You have given me the best thing I could ever ask for in this life, baby, and that’s our family”

“We will figure everything out together when the time comes, okay?” You said “We always do”

“Now come here,” You tugged him closer and pulled him into your embrace. Connor buried his face in the crook of your neck as you rubbed his back comfortingly “I’ve got you, bubs”

“I know it’s a hard time with me right now and it drove us crazy” He sniffled against your shoulder “But baby please don’t give up on me. I love you so, so much and I don’t ever want to lose you”

“I love you too, baby and I’m in this just as much as you are” You tighten your grip around him, pressing a kiss to his head “There is no way I’m giving up on you or us”

————————————————————

Reblog, like or leave a comment; always appreciated!  ❤️

x rina

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[one-of-us-must-be-crazy]

I PANICKED... I PANICKED!!!

“It’s absolutely not anyone’s fault,” Amanda started the second that she heard the flat’s door open.

“That…is not a promising comment to walk in to,” her new partner, her new flatmate, her new…Person, looked more concerned than she thought he would.

“I’ll explain…”

“Explain-” he took a glance at the kitchen counter, looking at what she had spread out over them, and then slowly back at her, “What…is…? What happened?! Why are there three of them?”

Earlier that day: 

Amanda had refused to get out of bed. Her lover, relaxed late into the morning due to a low charge looked so human in the sunlight that crept in between the window blinds that she wanted to enjoy it. He was warm to the touch, charging over night after what she called a panic attack, and what he called a system error, had left him drained.

Despite no breath or heart beat, and only a subtle technological buzz signaling that he was ‘alive’ at all, the warmth, the way his face actually looked at rest for once, and the daylight high lighting him in such an unflattering, such a human way, displaying fine lines and crows’ feet, a day’s worth of stubble, Amanda would have been fine dozing the whole day away with him.

She must have fallen back to sleep at some point entirely, however, because she had woken up with a pillow under her arm instead of a ridiculously and unnecessarily well muscled torso. Christopher was long gone, and a note in his font-perfect hand writing was on the bedside table.

I had to go into the city to find a new cord, might be a few hours, I’ll call when I think you’re awake. Love.

It made her smile, but also struck her as deeply sad, that he had so little experience with love that he only wrote the word rather than following it with a comma and his name, or even a full “I love you,” but the smile at his sweetness won.

Amanda could smell coffee too, he must have put it on a timer or left it on the heater for her. She dragged herself out of the warm burrow of the fleece blanket and her duvet, pausing a moment to smell his pillow–laundry detergent, and a vague soapiness–an obsessive, tween-wearing-her-crush’s-sweater moment that she would deny if anyone caught her doing it.

The kitchen was a short walk but cold, and the flirty choice to pull on his boxers instead of her pajama pants last night after a 2AM snuggle turned into something that they probably shouldn’t have tried when he was already so low on energy now felt like genuinely bad decision. She wonders loosely if the frankly stupid idea to give into the middle of the night urge had any part in how drained he must have gotten to shut down wholly, but after his panic attack, she had welcomed the change of mood from him. And the other things.

She was half day dreaming about a particular movement he had tried, and she never really got much out of missionary but if he wanted to keep doing that thing with his hips then–

Fish was dead.

“FUCK.” her eyes had just glanced over the living room when they fell on the little tank, a five gallon thing with a gold fish in it that Christopher had been saying all week he wanted to replace with a larger one seeing how gold fish can live much longer and healthier lives in fifty or hundred gallon tanks but–

Fish was floating on the surface of the water.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuCK FUCK FUCK.”

Him coming home to seeing his pet, his only bit of light and kindness he’d ever gotten before he met her, the pet he was allowed to name as he was just coming into his sentience–him coming home to seeing his pet dead was out of the question entirely.

Without thinking, or even registering what she was doing, Amanda ran through their room, dressed in her clothes, pulled on boots, took a picture of the fish and searched addresses for pet stores.

Then she called her partner, blessedly he didn’t answer but she left a hasty, and half-convincing voice mail that he could take his time becuase she was going on a run anyway. Despite the fact it was raining.

Three pet shops later, Amanda was sprinting back (carefully) into the apartment, two bags, each with a goldfish, in case her luck truly went to hell and one of them died in transit. They almost looked like Fish, but Fish had to have spots becuase that meant that a certain android with perfect image recall in his memory would know instantly that something was wrong.

Amanda rummaged around for a net to scoop out the tiny corpse, stress blessedly not allowing her to meditate on the guilt she felt for planning on throwing away or flushing it when she was so careless with human lives not so long ago on a hellish station in the middle of nowhere. Slightly nauseous, she went to lift the sad thing and—

“—MOTHER FUCKER!” ——-Fish jumped. 

Fish was not dead.

Yet. 

Fish was flopping around on the carpet —without thinking, Amanda grabbed him–carefully–and dropped him back in the tank. Fish didn’t look too bad for being dead (asleep?) a moment ago, and flopping around a second ago. There was a strand of hair on one of his fins now, presumably hers, from the carpet, but he looked okay enough. 

Amanda slammed the tank’s lid back down, and then looked over to the counter where the other two fish waited in their little bags.

 “I fucking hate you.” she mumbled at the tank, half to herself, half to Fish. Fish had lost the hair, and was acting like a normal goldfish, not one that was recently dead. “Chris, you couldn’t just get a fucking cactus. Or an aloe plant. Something sturdy...”

They only had the one tank, and not willing to risk letting the others do something, get in a fight, plot an escape, sacrifice to a fish god, she put nothing past them. Fish had to live at least another hour. So, plastic containers. 

There were two that looked almost big enough but not quite, and one that she wanted to use had curry stains in it, so maybe not for a fish. Or for anything beyond the recycling chute in the hall. Fine. So.....

Amanda was duct taping the spout shut on the iced tea pitcher (neither of us even drink iced tea why do we have this?) and writing “TEMP FISH HOME. NOT DRINK.” in permanent marker on the tape when---

“It’s absolutely not anyone’s fault,” Amanda started the second that she heard the flat’s door open.

“That…is not a promising comment to walk in to,” Samuels looked more concerned than she thought he would.

“I’ll explain…”

“Explain-” he took a glance at the kitchen counter, looking at what she had spread out over them, and then slowly back at her, “What…is…? What happened?! Why are there three of them?”

“I PANICKED.....I PANICKED!!!!! Fish was dead, and--”

“Fish was dead? What happened!”

“Nothing happened! he was fine! A little fuzz from the carpet--”

“Why was Fish on the carpet?!?!?!?!”

“HE WAS DEAD? I had to go and get these guys, and then Fish had the audacity to not be dead when I got back and--”

“You...were going to lie to me that Fish was alive?”

“Not really I just wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Amy!”

“Well now Fish has two friends.”

“Now I need to go back out, and get a bigger tank...”

“Probably. You said you wanted to anyway.”

“Not today. How long was Fish out of the water?”

“I don’t know, ten seconds? Not long. And he was floating at the top of the tank. I thought he was dead.”

“Oh, no Fish just sleeps like that sometimes,” Samuels inspected the impostor fish closely, they were good matches, but not to his eye. They were going to have to get the hundred gallon tank. No way around it now.

“Why the fuck does he sleep like that?!”

“I don’t ask you why you sleep the way that you do,” 

[starryglittermaiden]

Maybe.

Hello I also call this this is older and I realized just tonight that I never posted it and I would like it here. Wrote it when I first fell for arthur and felt undeserving. yeet

It had been a nightmare to wake him. One filled with smiling eyes and children's banter. One that ended in children's screams, and rows and rows of graves. Bodies hidden under cloths as they were carted off, too many to count, but all he knew by name.

He jolted up, gasping for breath, finally able to pull free of the flytrap of his nightmare. His eyes greeted by darkness, a normal sight on the nights he slept. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, always, and then stay awake, always haunted by what he'd see, no matter how unchanging it was. It'd stick to all his thoughts, like some sort of leech. Any other dream he tried to have wasn't safe either. Tonight was no different. He sighed as he swung his legs off his bed and stood, routine kicking in as he prepared to march downstairs and prepare some coffee. Maybe catch her, the nightowl she was.

He shook that thought off, scoffing, and threw open his door.

He'd made it as far as the dining room when he heard a sound, muffled and quiet, but, undoubtedly her. He heard two voices, actually, one was hers, and the other Theo's. Both unintelligible, but what was, and what made his stomach drop to his feet, was a small sound from her. Something of a whine. In that moment, his legs moved faster than he felt they ever had as he bolted to the kitchen doorway, panic rising in him.

Surely Theo wasn't... He wouldn't, never, ever. Especially not when he knew what Arthur felt for her, what he'd told him during those blackout nights at the pub. Theo wasn't... doing anything like that. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Ever. No, Gods no. What had she called that? Ah. The bro-code.

Even if she...

Another thought he brushed away. She didn't like Theo, she couldn't. She didn't. He knew. Why was he so worried?

He shoved down the panic brewing and coiling in his stomach, dousing it with water like a flame. After what felt like an eternity alone with his thoughts, he made it to the doorway, and the sight that greeted him had the panicked flames roaring high and hot again.

Theo. She- She was hugging- Crying- Not hugging, but crying. Gripping Theo, gripping his shirt. Why was she crying? Crying. Holding onto Theo. Why?

It took a minute before logic kicked in, and he ducked behind the wall before either of them noticed.

An exasperated sigh from Theo. “Hondje, you're snotting on my shirt, get off me.”

“B-But- But Theoooooooo...!”

It didn't take a genius to note the slur in her words, even through the sobbing. She'd been drinking.

“What? What the hell has you blubbering like this? You're drunk. Go to bed.”

“A-Arthur...”

“Go find him.”

“Not that...”

“What then? I'm tired, Hondje. If you have a problem, go see-”

“I love him.”

He felt the floor fall out from under him. His heart suddenly pounding so loud in his ears he could barely hear anything, barely hear the wheeze of his own breath as he tried feebly to pull air back into his lungs, barely hear the two in the kitchen, the tick of the clock. All drowned out by the steady, rapid thud in his chest, the blood in his ears. He almost worried they'd hear it.

He managed to strain against it all, listening.

“...Yeah, I know.”

A sniffle. “What do I do?”

“Go tell him?”

“No.”

A snort. “Do you want me to?”

“No! No, no no no, no, no, shhhhh, no. No.”

“Why not? I think it'd be fun.”

Arse.

“I- He's... I'm me. I'm icky. I'm big dumb and he isn't. He's cool and nice, and pretty, and funny. And pretty. And nice. And funny. And I love him.”

He heard Theo take a breath in to speak, before he was interrupted by a tiny:

“...wanna hold his hand...”

Arthur didn't know what to make of it.

He was... Arthur. He was flirty, he was flighty, he was... easy. He didn't make commitments, or promises. If he did it was rare. All he knew was how to play games, in every sense, and run before he got attached. Like a coward. A true coward. And yet here she was, rat-arsed at 2am, in tears over him. In tears about how she didn't feel good enough for him.

He would've snorted if it wouldn't have given him away.

He sat back against the wall, his legs too unsteady to keep supporting him as he listened in. Was he a little too ready to do this? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Absolutely. Was he going to pack it up? Not a chance. Hearing she felt the same way about him, the same he felt for her, was mind-blowing and there was no way in hell he could be pried away, even if she didn't know he was there.

“He smells nice, too. And when he smiles my tummy goes flip. And I love him.”

“Alright, alright I get it.”

“Please don't tell him.”

“...I won't.”

“I'm icky. I don't want him to know. And I don't...” she trailed off, sounding surprisingly sober when she found her voice again, “I feel like we'll ruin what we have. I don't want to.”

A hum from Theo, and a pause in conversation. Finally letting Arthur process everything he just heard. How he wished, so dearly, that his head and heart weren't a pile of mush in his body. That his stomach would quiet its waves long enough for him to think. Something he was always good and bad at, thinking. Too much thought, sometimes just the right amount of it. His brain always working, gears always spinning no matter the direction he wanted, and currently they spun until he was worried they'd create enough friction to melt. Maybe they already had.

She loved him. She did. Drunk confessions were the most honest, he would know. Sauced out of your mind, nothing holding you back? You spew secrets, more secrets than you'd care to, more than you knew you'd had. And in those moments she tearfully told his best friend she loved him. Arthur. The flighty writer. The terrible human being. The man who could save no one, the murderer-

A yawn from her pulled him from his head, the gentleness in it serving to melt his heart further. He wished he could see her. The tiredness in her features, maybe have her eyes slowly blink up at him with a sleepy smile. A hug goodnight. A kiss goodnight, he dared to dream. Him carrying her back to his room and laying next to her, watching the rise and fall in her chest, maybe him feeling safe enough to let himself be lulled back into sleep.

Maybe.

Reality set in as he heard her footsteps make their way to the door and he shot up, taking a few paces back to act as though he'd just woken up and was making his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. He smiled as she passed him, noting and giddy at the hint of a flush that dusted her cheeks as he did. He almost- no, he did, catch her arm briefly, stopping her trip. “Going to bed?”

“Mhm.” Her reply was quieter than her yawn. He couldn't keep her long.

“Well, get some rest. Sweet dreams.” He chuckled, “unless you want me to come up to bed with you?”

Her shout delighted him, her head rapidly shaking from side to side as she wrenched her arm from him.  “I'm fine! I-I'm fine! Goodnight, Arthur!”

He cackled his way into the kitchen, flashing his friend a grin. “Theo! What're you doing up so late?”

“When're you gonna tell her?”

“Simple. I'm not.”

“She likes you too.”

“...She'll be next.”

“She won't.”

“She will.”

“Won't.”

“She-”

“Won't. Get your damn glass of water. Goodnight, Arthur.”

“...Goodnight.”

[commonhooker]

i just woke up from a nap so story time: the woman who lives below us is an actual insane person

the first thing she did when we moved in in november (we officially moved in in december but we got the keys to move our furniture a few days prior) was to tell us that we need to clean the stairwell on our designated friday (3 week rotation), and she was upset we hadn’t on november 30th, which was a friday

first of all we weren’t technically moved in then, and second of all the rules hadn’t been clear because we’d seen her clean monday, and figured, oh, maybe it’s just a ‘‘during the week when it’s needed but it doesn’t HAVE to be friday if it doesn’t look bad’‘ thing. but whatever, we just told her sorry, we just moved in, but we would make sure to remember in the future

over the next few weeks she just complained at us for very basic shit, such as ‘‘don’t forget to close the door to the laundry’‘ even tho we literally had locked the door EVERY time we’d been there, she didn’t even have anything to complain abt

then one evening around 10:30pm in december, my boyfriend accidentally drops something on the floor, and she goes fucking feral on us saying we ‘‘stomp the floor repeatedly’’ and her son needs to sleep (he’s a teenager for reference). my boyfriend ends up just telling her we’re busy and closes the door because she just keeps going and is seemingly only interested in bitching and not in having a constructive conversation

so months go by, it’s now march, and this whole time we’ve lived basically above a club. even before she got all pissed off with us, she would play music all day long and it’s so loud it SHAKES our apartment - she has even broken house rules on several occasions and played after 9pm on weekdays (which i have recorded on multiple occasions) and in weekends way into the night.

now don’t get me wrong, people are allowed to play music! but my god, we literally live above a club, and this is without exception every fucking weekend, and every day of the week. she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because she’s a bum who doesn’t work, but other people get up in the morning and like, do shit with their day

what a concept ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

fast forward to last night, friday. we get home around 9pm after having celebrated my cats birthday at my moms place (dont come for me i love him and he deserves it and hes a big boy), and decide to go to bed around 11pm because we’re exhausted from school and work. around 1:30am we’re woken up, not just by music, but by what feels like the fucking armageddon approaching. now i’m a light sleeper, but my boyfriend can sleep through almost anything, and even he woke up from it

we waited to see if she just needed to get this one song off her chest, but alas, she kept going, and eventually my boyfriend went downstairs to confront her and tell her it’s nearly 2am and time to turn off the music. now not only is she physically threatening (like she was all fists), but she screams at him that it’s okay because ‘‘she has a son and we’re alone’‘ (presumably she means we don’t have kids), and that when he needs to sleep at night, we stomp around in our apartment. i recorded all this for the sake of later confrontation, and thank god my half asleep dumbass thought of that

but we were both so fucking confused tho, because first of all we both go to bed pretty early normally because we need to get up early, and even if we stay up late, we sit at our computer, which doesn’t require much stomping ... so unless she thinks we can’t walk around in our own apartment, i don’t know what her complaint was. but i went back to check the ad and nowhere does it say you’re required to levitate to rent the apartment, phew

so anyway after this, she’s still going feral and insulting my boyfriend, calling him sick (she didn’t explain why, i think it was just her best insult lmao), and ending abruptly by saying ‘‘fuck you’‘ and slamming the door in his face. at this point we’d warned her we’d be in contact with the landlord.

so i write him, despite it being 2 in the morning, letting him know i’m incredibly sorry for writing so late, but we’re so fucking done at this point. he replies back almost immediately saying he wrote her (presumably to turn off the music), and that we should talk at a better time. and tbh kudos to him for replying so fucking late, on the weekend nonetheless

ANYWAY, this bitch keeps playing her insanely loud music, and even with earplugs it’s completely impossible to sleep. we decided that since we couldn’t sleep, we’d just stay up and talk (luckily none of us had work today) until she stopped, and then just let the landlord know in the morning how long she kept playing. oh but were we fools, because i can now report that it is nearly 5pm, and she is still playing music, and has not stopped since 1:30 this morning

we were smart enough to record just how loud it was with regular intervals during the night, tho. but anyway i write the landlord at 7am letting him know we were thankful for him trying, but it hadn’t helped, and she was still playing music, and had been all night, resulting in very little to no sleep. he’s sorry to hear and says he’ll talk to her later the same day, and will get a lawyer involved monday (i was like a child on christmas).

he sent me a text again right before i basically passed out from being tired, saying he had just tried to knock on her door, and despite multiple attempts she hadn’t responded, but he could hear her music loud and clear. he also said he’d left a note for her, encouraging better behaviour, and saying that if her shenanigans don’t stop, she’s hereby evicted. oopsie doopsies!

[fight-me-wyatt]

Wyatt Oleff ~ Coffee Stains

Request/Prompt: "Hellooo since you are taking request's can you do a fluffy Wyatt x reader imagine?ily💝💝💘🎈" from @nctzenaf on Tumblr. 

Ship: Wyatt Oleff x fem!reader 

Summary: Wyatt accidentally bumps into the reader on the street, spilling coffee all over her. They part ways not expecting to see each other again, until the reader goes to her favourite cafe and gets coffee spilt over her again... by the same handsome stranger. 

Type: fluff... not super fluffy though, sorry x 

Warning: Only warning is swearing 

Word count: 4538 (including A/Ns) I swear these are getting longer and longer. Let me know if you want them shorter! 

Hope you enjoy it. Let me know! Oh, and an update on me doing ships, I've decided to split them up with imagines in between, so no, they aren't closed, but it'll just take a long time to do them all! Hope this is okay!

Gif credit to @beep-beep-reddie

Y/N POV 

8:14am. I was already late. 

To make matters worse, I hadn't had my morning coffee yet, so I was tired and ready to snap. 

I walked briskly down the reasonably busy sidewalk. The Autumn air was crisp and sharp, a slight wind blowing against my cool face. I had a loose scarf around my neck to fight off the cold and look stylish while doing it. 

I checked my watch again, only to find that time hadn't unwound for me. I was still late. 

My sister had been out late last night and had woken me up multiple times during the night, calling me every hour. And she wasn't quiet coming back home either. It was 2am when she crashed through the door, waking me from the short doze I had since the last time she disturbed me. I had decided to help her get into bed, so that it was faster and quieter, giving me more time to sleep. That didn't work in with her plans though. It took an hour and a half to get her ready for bed, and another hour to get her to finally fall asleep. Falling back into bed at 4:30am, I was knackered. I was so tired that when my alarm started blaring at 7am, I slept through it. It wasn't until 7:55am when my sister woke me, complaining about the screaming alarm clock and her pounding headache. 

I had jumped out of bed, chucked on clothes, deodorant and shoes, grabbed my purse that contained my work badge, my money and house keys, and rushed out the door. 

I worked at a cute bookstore which i had visited so often that they offered me a job. It was the perfect holiday job while school was out. I started at 8am and worked until closing time at 6pm. I did this Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, although it would vary. 

Except it was a Monday, past 8am, and I wasn't at work. Because I was getting later by the second. 

I looked down at my watch once again, as if this would slow time down. 

All it did was slow me down. Even further. 

Because I wasn't looking where I was going for approximately 7 seconds, I slammed into someone going in the opposite direction. 

I got soaked with hot liquid that had spilt from the other persons takeaway cup. Well, at least I got my coffee. 

I let out a sound of disgust, stumbling backwards. The other person caught me by the arms, preventing my fall. I looked up, about to give them an earful about watching where they were going when I saw who had hit me. 

He looked like he was around my age, tall, and super handsome. His beautiful chocolate brown eyes stared down at me with concern, he had an apologetic smile on, giving him a dimple on his left cheek, and his brown hair was adorably curly. I promptly closed my mouth. 

"I am so so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going! Lost in my thoughts. Are you okay?? Did I hurt you? Oh god, I spilt coffee all over you! I am incredibly sorry. Shit, did it burn you?" He searched my face with concern, biting his lip. 

I managed a smile and shook my head. 

"No no, it's fine! I wasn't looking either, checking my watch, I was. I’m okay, are you? Don't worry about the coffee, I hadn't had my morning one anyways! It's mostly on my clothes so it doesn't burn. I would buy you a new one since I'm wearing all of yours, but I'm actually in a rush. I'm late to work, you see..." I talked fast, annoyed that I would have to cut the conversation off short. 

His eyes widened and he went into another round of apologies. 

"Oh, jeez, you're late! I am so sorry! I've made you even later. Don't worry about me, just go! I'm so sorry about this!" 

I shook my head, smiling. 

"Nah, it's okay. It's not your fault, but I really have to be going. Sorry about your coffee!" I waved goodbye and hurried off. 

He nodded and waved goodbye to me. 

"Goodbye! Have a nice day at work! Sorry, again" he called after me. 

After I had arrived at work at 8:28am, explained to my boss why I was late, showing him my coffee soaked clothes as proof, and started shelfing books, I realised I was incredibly fortunate to have been running late, for if I hadn't been, I never would have run into the cute stranger who spilt coffee over me. 

The thought of his eyes and his smile made my day a lot brighter, despite the horrible start. All day, I thought about him and how we would probably never meet again, much to my sadness.

Every time the bell would ring, signalling a customer entering the shop, I looked up hopefully, wondering if, by some miracle, he'd found where I worked and come to see me. Of course, it was never him that walked through the door. It was obsessive and unhealthy, and I knew that, but that didn't stop me from glancing up from the counter when the trill of the bell sounded. 

For some reason, I couldn't get him out of my head. Even after several days had passed with no sign of him, he was still lingering in my mind, and stuck in my heart with a pinch of hope. 

I tried my best to dismiss the thought of his brown curly hair, his sparkling brown eyes, his cute smile.... but no matter what I tried, he remained in my heart and mind, much to my disgust. 

It was now Saturday, and I had managed to push the thought of the cute - coffee spilling - stranger to the back of my mind where it lingered. I had been asked to come in for a few hours today, to cover for another coworker, and I had willingly agreed with nothing better to do. 

My coworker finally showed up for her shift at 2:30pm, freeing me. I decided to head for my favourite cafe, where they made the best coffee (in my opinion), where I could read my book with an afternoon coffee. 

I wrapped my scarf around my neck, shoved my hands in my deep pockets, and started walking into the sharp whistling wind and towards the cafe. 

Today was particularly cold, so I spent no time taking in my surroundings as I usually did. Not even the coldness of the air biting my exposed skin could stop me scanning the bustling crowd of people, all with their own destinations in mind, for that familiar, yet unfamiliar face. I had only seen it once, but I saw it many times after, in my mind. 

I kept my pace up, turning my head to curiously look at the many faces of the city. People watching was one of the great things of living in such a busy city. There were thousands of people, all with different life stories, backgrounds, thoughts and experiences. It fascinated me. You could be walking down the street and see an elderly man in a very formal suit, and a teenage girl with spiky green hair, tattoos and leather clothing could be a few short steps behind him, travelling in the same direction in a weird coincidence. 

I reached the glass door, with the vine, flower and coffee bean logo, and something nagged at me. Why, after the many, many trips to the cafe, had the familiar logo pulled at something in the very far retches of my mind? I shook my head and pushed the door open, instantly greeted by the high pitched ring of the bell above me, the flood of warmth, the chatter of other customers, and the smell of caffeine and sugary sweet pastries baking. I took a deep breath in and sighed happily. 

Letting the door close behind me, I unwrapped my scarf, stuffed it in my bag, and started weaving my way through the people. The cafe was busier than usual, it was a popular place and in the cold weather everyone had gone seeking the warmth of coffee and baked goods. 

I made my way to the back of the long line leading up to the counter. 

I peered past the person in front of me, to see about ten people fidgeting restlessly in front of me. 

Confirming my suspicions of having to wait a while, I dug through my bag and grabbed out my phone. I aimlessly scrolled through tumblr as the line progressively got shorter. The people in front of me slowly broke off as they placed and received their orders, while additional people were always coming to the back of the line.

It was the guy-in-front-of-me's turn, so I quickly stowed my phone away. 

He was dark skinned, with broad shoulders and very toned muscles that he didn't even have to flex to prove their worth. He wore glasses and a simple white shirt and jeans. 

I peered behind me to see an older lady who was of Japanese descent, by the looks of the strokes of the characters printed onto her wrinkled skin. That, and the fact she was carrying a Japanese to English translation book, pointed me in the direction of her ethnicity. 

I smiled at her, embarrassed, realising I was staring. She smiled back kindly. I was about to open my mouth when I was brought back to the task at hand. 

"Next please." Called an ever so slightly irritated voice. 

I turned back to the teenage boy at the counter and smiled sheepishly. 

"Sorry... um, can I please get a chocolate mocha and a Danish pastry please?" 

The boy nodded and wrote everything down before ringing it up on the cash register. 

"That will be $9.50. Your name please? And will you be having it here or to takeaway?" 

I quickly handed him the money, awkwardly putting the change back in my wallet, worried about holding up the queue. 

"Oh, ah, have here, thanks. And my name is Y/N." I spelt it out to him before making my way over to the group of people who were also waiting for their orders. 

"Y/N?" A voice called out, the owner of said voice looking around questioningly. 

I muttered 'excuse me's as I made my way up to the counter. I quickly thanked the girl and grabbed my tray, bee lining for one of the only spare tables I could see. 

I made it there just before a teenage couple. The girls face turned up in disgust, stomping away with her girlfriend trailing behind quietly, pulled along by their entwined hands. I shrugged apologetically and sat. 

I ate my danish first, glad of the soft, warm pastry filling my mouth. 

Lifting the coffee cup up, I tentatively took a sip of the hot liquid, not wanting to burn my mouth. I put it back down, wanting it to cool a bit further. 

Something tugged at the back of my mind again, as I looked at my coffee and the cup it was in. There was something I couldn't put my finger on, and it was starting to really bug me. 

Simply shrugging, I pulled out my current read out of my bag; John Greens latest book. I quickly fell in between the pages, getting lost in the story. 

Tuning out the bustling cafe was easy, despite the constant noise of chatter, coffee cups, plates, and spoons clanking against each other, the bells at the counter and on the door, and the familiar sound of the coffee machine. 

I had gone through several chapters steadily, the outside world blocked out, when there was a commotion that caught my attention. 

I turned and looked just in time to see a women get accidentally shoved into a guy walking past my table. The two hit each other and bounced off; the women into a man who managed to catch her before she fell, and the guy into my table. 

The coffee cup he was carrying slipped from his fingers as he hit the table, and the steaming liquid went through the air, almost in slow motion, and landed everywhere. 

I was soaked from head to toe. 

In coffee. 

Again. 

Even my book had coffee over it. 

I simply sighed, screwing my face up slightly. Wiping the coffee out of my eyes, I finally got a good look at who had spilt the coffee. 

There, standing rather sheepish, was the cute stranger. The one who had spilt coffee on me in the street. 

I burst out laughing, looking at his mortified face. 

"I'm starting to think I must have done something to anger you, due to the amount of drinks you've dumped over me" I teased, grinning. 

He laughed, relief washing over his face as he realised I wasn't mad. 

"How could you!? Don't act like you don't know." He said clutching a hand to his chest, going along with the act. 

I giggled. Cute, funny, and slightly dorky. How was this boy real? 

"But, I am extremely sorry. I mean it was bad enough spilling it on you once, when you were running late, but again? When you were just enjoying your book," he gestured down to the book and winced, "and I managed to get coffee on it as well... I am so so sorry." He apologised wholeheartedly. 

I smiled and shook my head. 

"Don't worry about it. Any of it. I mean the first time woke me up, which I was glad for, and the second time meant I was able to see you again..." I said the last part shyly, blushing, before rushing on, " and as for the book, it's only a couple of coffee stains. It adds character." I grinned, grabbing a napkin to wipe the rest of the coffee off of my face. 

He smiled softly, rubbing the back of his neck and biting his lip. "I-uh- um, is this seat taken?" He asked shyly. 

I grinned and shook my head, gesturing to it to let him know he could sit. His eyes widened and sparkled, and once again I was transfixed by them. 

He sat down across from me, setting his now empty coffee cup on the table. 

"I'm Wyatt, by the way, Wyatt Oleff." He said grinning, holding out his hand. 

I reached across the table and shook his hand, smiling softly. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Wyatt, despite the fact I'm covered in coffee," I teased kindly, "Im Y/N. Y/F/N." I replied. 

He nodded, holding my hand a couple of seconds longer. 

"Y/N. Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl" he murmured softly before blushing madly. 

I blushed and stammered, surprised by his comment. 

"O-oh, uh, th-thank y-you..." 

 He cleared his threat and looked down at his cup, trying to hide his ever growing blush. 

"Uh, I'm just going to go get another coffee, since you're wearing mine" he chuckled awkwardly and rose. 

I nodded, looking down at his empty cup also. As he walked to the counter, and I kept my eyes on the cup, the thing that had been nagging me clicked. 

The shops logo. I had seen it on Wyatt's takeaway cup the first time we meet. He must come here often. 

I smiled, thinking about the chances of us running into each other. And how we both happened to be at the same small cafe at the same time. It seemed as though fate was on my side. 

As I waited for Wyatt to return, I couldn't stop smiling as I thought about him. 

In the time gone by, I managed to clean up most of the spilt coffee, although I still smelt very strongly of coffee. Not that I minded, it was a welcome smell. 

Wyatt returned with a smile on his face. 

We chatted for several hours, getting to know each other. Neither of us had places to be, neither of us wanted to leave. 

We instantly clicked. We had many of the same interests, and we enjoyed each other's company. 

As he talked enthusiastically about Zelda, I rested my head on my hand and smiled. He was gesturing madly, his eyes wide and sparkling as he described it. He grinned while talking quickly, rambling cutely. God, I could feel myself falling for him already. What a fucking idiot. But I couldn't stop myself. 

His noodle curly hair shook as his head fell back and he laughed at his own joke. I giggled uncharacteristicly, smiling and shaking my head. I wasn't laughing because of his joke, I hadn't even heard it because I had gotten distracted by his handsome looks... but I was laughing at how adorable he looked and how focused on the topic he was. 

His eyes settled back onto mine and there was a moment of silence. His eyes searched mine until he realised he was staring and promptly looked down, blushing. 

"So, uh... do you come here often?" He winced at how he sounded, looking up at me with a sheepish grin. 

I chuckled and took a sip of my 4th? 3rd? coffee, nodding. 

"Yeah, I do actually. It's my favourite cafe. Best coffee for miles and miles," I leaned in to say the next part, "even if it's being poured on you" I teased him with a grin. 

He blushed and chuckled, sipping at his own current coffee before setting it down and leaning towards me. 

"Well, maybe, we should do this again. Have coffee and chat here. And although I can't promise I won't spill my coffee on you, I will certainly try not to." He said with a grin, his eyes hopeful and nervous despite his confident demeanour. 

My eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the invitation. I smiled shyly, fiddling with the teaspoon I had been given to stir my coffee. 

"Are you... asking me on a date, Wyatt Oleff? " I asked grinning. 

He looked into my eyes and I was once again mesmerised by their soft beauty. 

"Indeed I am, Y/F/N." he said with that cute smirk of his. 

I nodded slowly, tapping my finger to my chin and screwed up my face, as if I had to think very hard and long about the proposition. 

"Well, in that case, Mr. Oleff, I think that we should do this again, although I might have to wear a rain poncho to save myself from the dangerous risk of coffee stains again." I teased, smiling. 

Inside, my heart was beating 1000 miles a minute and my mind was screaming at me in excitement and disbelief. He nodded and smiled at me triumphantly, and I could see that he was glad of my answer. This made me soar even higher over the moon. 

"And so it's settled, Miss Y/L/N. and that is a fantastic idea, rain ponchos are highly recommended. So, uh, can I get your number?" He said the last part shyly, worried I would decline him and cancel the date-to-be. 

I nodded happily and slid my phone across the table to him, open on a new contact. He grinned and picked up my phone, quickly putting his details in and sending a text to himself so that he'd have my number. 

 After he had passed my phone back to me, I checked to see what he'd put his contact name as. 

'Handsome Coffee Spilling Boy' stared back at me. 

 I burst out laughing and nodded. 

"Good name choice. Very suitable." 

He grinned and winked. I gently plucked his phone out of his hands. 

"Now I get to choose my contact name." 

He nodded and held his hands up in mock surrender, waiting patiently. 

After thinking briefly I typed in: 'Cute Coffee Wearing Girl' And handed his phone back to him. 

I laughed as he read it and nodded. 

"Another very accurate name. I love it." He grinned before turning towards the girl wearing an apron who was standing by our table. 

I hadn't even noticed her, much less the practically empty cafe. 

"I'm so sorry to disturb the two of you, but I'm afraid we are about to close up." She said smiling awkwardly. 

My eyes widened, only just realising the time. 

"Shit. Time flies when you're having fun I guess." I said quietly, sneaking a look at Wyatt as we both collected our things. 

Once we were both out on the street and the shy employee had locked up behind us, we turned to each other, both smiling shyly. 

"Well, uh I better get going... it's my turn to cook dinner for my sister and I still have to buy everything... but I'm really really glad you spilt that coffee on me. I enjoyed talking to you..." I said shyly, looking down at my feet. 

Wyatt nodded, smiling. 

"Yeah, yeah no worries, and to be honest, I'm very glad I managed to spill coffee on you twice, because if I hadn't, I never would've been able to talk to you and ask you out on a date... speaking of, I'll text you tomorrow to see when you're free?" He smiled, almost embarrassed by the confession. 

I nodded quickly, over the moon with happiness. I stood up on my tippy toes, leaned towards him and kissed him softly on the cheek. 

"Can't wait." I whispered before quickly walking down the street to hide my reddening cheeks. 

Wyatt cute, surprised lopside smile stared after me. 

"See yah!" Wyatt called out after a few seconds of shocked silence. 

I glanced behind me to see Wyatt waving at me, still with that cute smirk on his face. 

I grinned and waved to him, almost running into an older man walking in the other direction. 

I apologised profusely, catching the sight of Wyatt laughing out of the corner of my eye. 

I turned and walked in the direction of the supermarket with a large smile on my face and a spring in my step. I got a couple of questioning stares, but I was far from caring. 

My smile only increased when the familiar 'ping!' of my phone alerted me of a text. 

New Text Message From: Handsome Coffee Spilling Boy 

'I'm beginning to think you've got a habit of (literally) running into random guys in the street😉' 

I giggled down at my phone, reading and rereading the text. 

I was so focussed on my phone that I ran into a teenage boy and almost fell on my ass. My eyes widened and I bit back a laugh as he glared at me. 

"Sorry!" I called out to his already retreating back. 

I burst out laughing as I started to reply to Wyatt. 

'I'm beginning to think you're the one making me run into random guys, since you've been the cause of them all! A brilliant example would be the fact that I ran into a guy on the street because I was reading your text😂'

It was only a minute later that he replied. 

'A women with kids just stared at me confused and scared when I started reading your text 😂 You really should look where you're going ya know, even though it's hard not to be distracted by me😉' 

I spun around on the street happily, a small squeal escaping my lips. I must have resembled Hermione Granger at the Yule Ball in 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' the movie, when Victor Krum kissed her hand and leaves. Here I was, talking to the cute guy that I never thought I'd see again, and he was flirting with me. 

'😂 terrorising little kids now are you? Shame you don't have coffee on you to throw at them😏 I swear you're distracting me on purpose at this stage😂' 

I pressed send and bit my lip. I shouldn't have sent that. It was weird and not funny... he'll probably never text me again now... 

My phone buzzed again, disturbing my thoughts.

'Damn it, you caught on! I knew I should've gotten a cup to takeaway before we got kicked out! And of course I'm distracting you on purpose, the only way to get your attention is to distract you or pour coffee on you! 😉'   

I held back an excited scream, reading his message. 

'I'm sure you would've grabbed one if they hadn't ushered us out in ten seconds flat!😂  hmmm hadn't thought of that... have you tried just asking for my attention?' 

I bit my lip before looking up and realising that I was at the supermarket. 

I went around, gathering everything I needed for dinner in a daydream, all the while chatting to Wyatt. 

We continued texting for the rest of the night throughout cooking and eating dinner and I didn't even notice the teasing comments from my sister. 

We were still talking as I climbed into bed, and we continued to talk as my eyes grew heavy. 

I warned him that I may fall asleep at any moment, and a couple of messages later I couldn't keep my eyes open. 

I fell slowly into a pleasant sleep with no dreams that I would remember in the morning. 

It may have been a different story if I had seen the text Wyatt sent me 10 minutes later when he realised I had fallen asleep. 

 My phone lit up and buzzed on my bedside table. In my sleeping state, I stirred, but did not wake, and settled back in again. The bright phone screen illuminating the room announced the text from Wyatt. 

New Text Message From Handsome Coffee Spilling Boy: 

'It seems like despite all that coffee you wear, you've fallen asleep. So you won't see this until the morning, but I just want to say that I really really enjoyed today, and I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner tomorrow night? (That way the threat of coffee being poured on you is lowered) I totally understand if you don't want to, but I would love to take you on a proper date. ' 

Ahahahahahahaha I'm terrible at endings. I always rush them sooo much. Also, does this count as fluff? I'm hoping so. Feel free to request more parts of certain imagines I've written, I may get around to them ages after, or I may decide not to continue them, but if you let me know that you want them, I'll definitely consider it!!

Taglist:

@alwaysmebeforeyou

@thedillpickleisnotafruit​

@that-kitty-dork 

@finnie-wolfhard

@anevenstrangerblog​

@it-reader

  feel free to ask to be on the taglist!

[wetlaprasfanfiction]

Period Drama.

This story was born on a very bad day in August 2017. In this story I’m exploring an issue that has plagued me since my teens. This issue has stolen many days of my life.

I actually felt a LOT like this when I wrote this and it really sucks. I was stuck in bed for two days. You could call it a creative outlet for a lot of frustration!. This has been pretty much me every month since I ‘started’, minus having the lovely Daryl to look after me of course!

I hope you enjoy this self-centred little number. 

Category hurt/comfort/romance

Takes place at the farm just after Sophia is found among the walkers in the barn and Daryl gets hurt looking for her.  

 This chapter is rated T, language etc, I will rate each chapter accordingly. 

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own The Walking Dead, this is for entertainment purposes only. 

I hate my period, I’ve always had a lot of issues in this area but this month was about to really put things into perspective!. The world as humanity knew it was over, I accepted that and moved on a long time ago, I’d rather face an army of ten thousand undead than face another month of pain and other horrible period related illness.

I woke up at around 2am in our makeshift bed in Daryl’s tent, the tent we’d shared ever since we realised our love for one another after he’d saved me from about a dozen walkers.

Pain was coursing through my body, slowly but surely increasing and I felt so weak and unwell, as if a really bad flu had taken over my body. I knew straight away what this was, good job I’d put a super maxi pad on before going to sleep huh?.

I lay there for a few minutes, feeling the hard ground in my bones more so than usual. I knew I had to try and get to the bathroom, well the little outhouse we were calling our bathroom anyway and clean up but I wasn’t sure if my legs would carry me. I felt very dizzy too. Should I wake him up? Should I take my life in my hands and wake the sleeping tiger that was Daryl Dixon?.

He lay on his back with his left hand resting loosely on his chest, his ruffled long hair hung loosely around his stubbly face.

No I thought, let the poor man sleep, he must be shattered. He was still quite fragile himself after falling into the ravine, being impaled by one of his own crossbow bolts and narrowly escaping a bullet in the head from Andrea when he had been desperately searching for poor Sophia.

That incident had really taken its toll on Daryl both physically and emotionally. I could tell he was blaming himself for it by the way he was carrying himself and behaving lately. I was woken up the night after she’d walked out of the barn as a walker by Daryl crying softly, hoping I was asleep. I didn’t say anything or push him to tell me the cause of his distress, I just put my arm around him and held him until he fell asleep.

I was going to try to be as quiet as I could, I didn’t want to wake anyone else, sleep was hard to come by in this dangerous new world. I began to slowly sit up, a sharp jolt of pain tore into my lower abdomen like a blunt knife. I managed not to audibly yelp.

My head swam with dizziness as pain shot up my back and down my legs, but I’d faced far worse as we did our best to survive in this dangerous post-apocalyptic world right? ‘Suck it up girl’, I told myself sternly.

I slowly sat up carefully as it was not my intention to wake Daryl. I managed to shuffle out of my sleeping bag and the many blankets that lay around us. I unzipped the tent entrance and crawled outside into the cool night air. The moon was full and stars sparkled against the almost black backdrop of the night sky.

I pushed myself up and onto my feet, the pain bit hard again as I straightened up. I doubled over a bit, ‘I can do this’ I told myself. I’d survived the apocalypse and the dangerous world that came after, nothing was impossible. I took a step forward as the floodgates opened between my legs. I felt myself sway on my feet and automatically reached for the plastic table outside our tent next to me to steady myself, knocking a metal water canteen from its perch on the table. ‘What the fuck!’ a voice called from the tent as Daryl quickly sat up, about to reach for the hunting knife he kept under his pillow. 'It’s only me hun’ I replied as loudly as my pain strangled voice would allow. 'What’s up with you, you ok?’ Daryl asked sleepily as he made his way out of the tent.

I didn’t really have chance to answer, everything was spinning now and dark spots were beginning to invade my vision, getting bigger with every passing second.

The last thing I remember was Daryl telling me ‘I got you, it’s okay’, then pain ripping through my body and feeling his arms around me, and then darkness enveloped me.

It felt like no time had passed when I came to, I was lying on the ground, the upper half of my limp body in Daryl’s arms. Other people, woken up by the commotion, were also looking down at me but their faces were still blurry. I felt very weak, confused and disoriented.

One of the blurry figures kneeled down beside me and I felt their fingers on my wrist, was it Hershel? Was he checking my pulse?. How did Hershel get to me so quickly?. Did Daryl yell for someone to get him? I had no idea.

Daryl reached towards another one of the blurry figures, did he call them Carol? I couldn’t be sure of anything in my state. He took something from them and I felt him press it against my forehead, it felt damp and cool. 'It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay’ I heard Daryl say, although his voice still sounded distant. He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes and I felt his hand take mine, his thumb brushing across my knuckles.

'Hey, welcome back’ he said in a low, soft tone. 'What happened?’ I managed to whisper. 'You just collapsed, I caught you, you’re ok’, Daryl replied. 'It hurts’ I whimpered. 'What hurts sweetie?’ asked Daryl. 'My damn period’ I managed to rasp. 'Oh no hun, I’m so sorry’ Daryl softly replied as he pressed the cool object back onto my forehead. Daryl immediately realised that was why I had just collapsed.

I swear I heard Hershel asking Daryl if this had happened before and Daryl telling him yes it had. Which it had, not long after me and Daryl got together he witnessed me pass out in front of him from my period when we were alone with nobody around.

We were on two day supply run together to gather stuff up for the camp. I remember that awful day, it was very much like this one, but poor Daryl was terrified, he thought I was really sick, or worse, bit. I remember him holding me in his arms and crying softly as I slowly came to. Once I’d fully recovered, or recovered enough to stand, he pretty much carried me back to our tent, listened to me explain all about my women’s problems and insisted that I slept in his arms that night. He’d said he thought he’d lost me.

It landed up being quite a good night after all that, I started to realise exactly how much Daryl really did care about me. In my opinion, all the assumptions I’d heard about Daryl so far were very wrong. Daryl was capable of loving someone and caring for them.

He remembered how Merle would take the piss out of any woman who dared speak openly about period related issues within earshot of him. Daryl however, Daryl loved me regardless of whatever small glitches came with me.

'Do you think you can stand up yet?’ Daryl asked. 'Not sure, need to get to the bathroom’ I croaked back. 'Just try to sit up slowly’ Daryl said. I put my hands on the ground either side of me and pushed myself up a little. 'Ugh’ I whimpered weakly, I felt awfully wobbly. 'That better?’ Daryl asked as I lay against him with my back against his chest and my head resting on his shoulder. ‘Yeah a bit’ I managed to say.

He wrapped his arms around me and I felt him pull me close. 'Here, drink this, a female voice spoke up in front of me as Carol stooped beside me and handed me a cup of water which I gladly sipped. I didn’t realise how fucking thirsty I was.

'Right, let’s try and get you off this hard ground’ Daryl spoke quietly. 'Come on hun’ I heard Carol speak up again as she slipped her hand under my left arm as Daryl slid his hand under my right arm. My feet found the ground and with their help, I slowly got to my feet and stood up. I still swayed a little but Daryl and Carol had me and held me steady. The red river began to flow again, 'got to get to the bathroom’ 'ok hun, take it slow’ Daryl said as I dared to take a step forward. They helped me to the little shack of a bathroom. 'Need a hand in there?’ Daryl asked. 'Nah should be ok’. 'Alright, but shout if things change ok?’ Daryl said back, his voice still full of concern.

Once I’d cleaned up and replaced my super jumbo pad, I left the bathroom and Daryl was there alone now. 'Where is Carol I asked. 'I told her to go back to bed, said I got you, she could go’.  Hershel sauntered over to us and said ’ I’ve just come to check up on you, make sure you’re doing alright before I go back to bed ok?’. 'Sure’ I replied, my voice was quiet and groggy. ‘Gotta take a leak’, I heard Daryl’s voice chime in and I giggled ever so slightly.

Hershel motioned for my hand and checked my pulse. 'Your blood pressure is still a bit low’ he deduced. ‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked me. 'Tired, drained, sore and weak’ I whimpered back. 'Oh and you’re not wasting the meds on me before you ask, they don’t work well for me, I just need a good sleep’.

Pain suddenly shot through me again. 'Agrh, ugh’ I whimpered out loud and I began to sway again. I felt so weak and helpless, not a good state in this world where the dead rise and eat the living and one’s strength and ability to fight or to run is the difference between life and death.

I felt Daryl’s arm around my midsection again and I instantly felt safer. 'I’ve got you’ he said, his voice low and calm. 'Let’s get you back to bed, it’s only 3am’ he said, 'you need to rest’. He helped me back to our tent and back into our makeshift bed. I was still way too wobbly to battle with the sleeping bag so I lay on top of that and our duvet, Daryl pulled the blanket around me and got in next to me. I squirmed as another wave of pain bit hard and Daryl pulled me close to his warm body. I felt like reheated death, weak and sore. Daryl held me and his strong arms pulled me closer still. 'Get to sleep but let me know if you need anything else ok?’ Daryl said as he kissed the top of my head.

I was so exhausted and in so much pain my body just couldn’t keep awake another second. The warmth of Daryl’s body was very comforting. I closed my eyes and fell sound asleep.

I wasn’t sure what the time was when a wave of pain woke me again, but I know I yelled 'OW’ on the top of my voice as I was waking up. Daryl sat up and placed his hand on my left shoulder, 'pain’ I squeaked out, gripping my sides and doubling over. Daryl shifted over towards me a bit more and began to gently run his hands up and down my back and sides. This felt amazing, Daryl cared enough to forgo his sleep to help me with something some people, especially his own brother, would have sneered at and maybe told me to get over. For a lot of us women, it is a painfully serious matter.

Waking up again warranted another miserable trek to the bathroom, I was on the verge of collapsing again but Daryl managed to keep me from keeling over. We had to stop several times during this trip to the bathroom so I could shake off the dizziness.

By the time we were back in the tent, I was delirious from the pain and general malaise brought on by my damned period, my senses seemed to desert me with each wave of red hot agony. I whimpered and chattered incoherently, I felt so unwell. 'Shh, just be still’ I heard his voice say, as I began to fall asleep again. I drifted in a pain filled limbo somewhere between asleep and awake. Soon, I felt myself slipping away into sleep.

A sound startled me, a low moan broke the silence of the woods at night. It was getting closer and closer, the woodland floor crunched beneath its as yet unseen feet. Crack! Snap!.

I reached for my knife, my weapon of choice for close quarters interaction with walkers, it wasn’t on my belt. Fear rising inside me, I reached to the other side of my belt for my second weapon of choice, my Glock that Daryl had given me when we first met, but that was not there either.

Then with no warning at all, a maggot riddled arm grabbed my shoulder as a female walker’s rotten teeth sank into my flesh. I tried to scream, Daryl! Daryl! Help me!!! But no sound left my throat.

I felt another red hot pain in my abdomen, another walker, a male, had sneaked up on me while I had been busy trying to fend off the first, more obvious one. He dug his hands into my flesh.

I looked down as he tore into my abdomen with bony rotten fingers, his teeth biting into my insides, insides that were spilling out in front of me in a pool of blood. I knew this man…nooo, oh no fucking way…Daryl….my voice stolen from me by fear, pain now giving way to the blackness of death, my Daryl…oh….nooo….NOOOO….

‘Hey, wake up, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here’ his hand on my shoulder, his voice breaking through as I began to wake up. I knew this voice, I loved the person it belonged to, and hadn’t a reanimated version of him just eaten me alive?!?. ‘You’re dead!, Daryl, you’re dead!’ I sobbed. 'No hun, I’m right here, you’re okay, it was just a bad dream, it’s okay’. 'Pain’ I gasped as I felt Daryl’s hand on my shoulder, ‘it’s okay, just lay still’ I was now fully awake, my body was shaking, I was terrified, which was so unlike me. I shared Daryl’s lack of fear. I felt so ashamed to feel like this, especially in front of Daryl.

‘Come here’ Daryl’s voice was so soft and calm as he fully pulled me from the hell of my nightmare.

He sat behind me and held me in his arms, resting his head on mine and planting the occasional kiss on the back of my neck. I felt his stubble and his long hair brush my neck and face. His hands moved to my hips then round to my awfully sore lower abdominal area as he continued to gently massage circles there.

A lot of people had first thought the redneck didn’t have anything like this in him, caring for someone in so much pain in such a gentle and kind manner.

'Come here’ Daryl motioned for me to lay back. He lay on his back and I lay back too, placing my head on his chest. The pain was building again, I moaned under my breath. No meds worked so I wasn’t about to dig into precious supplies, I had my Daryl, and that was enough. I felt myself slipping back into sleep, the warmth radiating from Daryl’s body was glorious. Exhaustion outran the pain and I fell asleep in his arms.

Chapter two coming very soon. :)

[decerterus]

just before I myself cart my big butt to bed - here is something I wrote for part 3 of the KM but never posted because I’m a bad, terrible person who forgets everything the moment it’s no longer directly in my line of sight.  Promnis - Short - Gen - First night in the Tent

Every weird position Prompto had ever woken up in throughout his entire life was suddenly, entirely and terrifyingly NOT Funny anymore. He was going to drool all over the jacket Gladio had given him to use as a pillow, he was going to accidentally kick Ignis in his sleep and get tossed of the tent at 2am because he was 100% sure that Noctis had lied to him every single time he told him he didn't snore. Prompto had been putting this off for ages - extra phone time, doing the dishes at a snail’s pace, helping with laundry - the whole evening after dinner as the hour of actually being this close to everyone in a tent overnight became more and more of a reality.

Noctis had passed out on the floor of the tent within seconds of putting his phone down and Prompto couldn't be more jealous. Now his arms ached, his back felt clicky and he could barely keep his eyes open but when he tried to turn flat on his back, only to find that when he did his shoulder bumped into Ignis'. He tried it again, but found that shifting the other way to counteract the Ignis brushing only pushed his legs into Noct's gut. He got a sleepy swat on the thigh for trying that again and accidentally headbutted into Ignis. "Mm?" Ignis peeked down at him over the edge of his glasses, "Can't sleep?" He asked quietly, not wanting to wake the other two. Prompto nodded, trying to turn back to Noct, but just feeling his shoulder and back twinge and twitch at the position. Ignis stretched over his head for a moment and put his notebook and phone down before he wiped over his face and took off his glasses. "Was it my light?" Prompto shook his head, managing to turn onto his other side, feeling his sore shoulder ache and the one he'd just crushed get the beginnings of the same pains. "Rather a tight fit, isn't it?" Ignis said, "At the very least we won't get cold." Prompto tried to smile but his arm was numb already. "If your back's more comfortable," Ignis said, pushing Prompto's shoulder back. "Don't force yourself into a ball." "Just uh," Prompto sighed heavily at the sudden comfort lying on his back provided. "Didn't want to annoy anyone." "Prompto, that is the nature of sharing intimate quarters." Ignis shrugged, slowly letting the tension go from his body with another stretch above his head. "Here." Ignis put his arm around Prompto, pulling him up so the blonde head was cushioned by his upper arm. "Used to do this with Noct when he found it hard to relax enough to sleep."  Ignis yawned, covering his mouth with with free hand. "If you can believe he ever had trouble sleeping." "Oh," Prompto hadn't even realized that Noct had stolen his balled up jacket pillow until the release of pressure on the back of his head. "Thank you." "Quite alright." Ignis gave him half of a hug before closing his eyes, his other hand coming over his stomach, touching Prompto's arm. Prompto lay in the now completely darkened tent. Ignis' phone had been a soft glow, keeping him aware of everything around him. "Night, Iggy." He said softly, earning a soft squeeze on his arm and a sleepy squeeze of his shoulder.

[dearmyblank]

dear pretty boy,

I miss you. dropping you off for your flight back home broke my fucking heart. it's hard to believe there was ever a time we hadn't met in person. you're my home, J, 2,000 miles away or face to face. these last three weeks have been like a dream and your absence has brutally woken me up. 

as you know, I'm quite silent and unemotional in person. I am a girl of few words. this is a letter to put all my thoughts about our first meeting into the world, since I'm better at writing than I am talking.

I remember going to the airport, and just pacing. people probably thought I was nuts, but the excitement robbed me of my ability to contain myself. I had butterflies, and the rush of emotions made my anxiety higher. I had to take Xanax two times before your arrival. I didn't even see you. I was too busy arguing with my friend about how I didn't care about getting in trouble for running to you. she pointed at something, and I turned and locked eyes with you for the very first time. for that split second, the only thing I could think of was "holy shit, he's gorgeous in person". we embraced, and you told me you loved me at least 3 times. my whole body was trembling, and I felt dizzy. nothing felt real. I will forever remember our first encounter. I wish I could relive it.

my family took us to dinner, and I was so full of anxiety that you took me outside. it was raining. alas, we had a sweet few minutes of alone time. you kissed me, and held me until I felt calm. normally I need space when I'm on the verge of a panic attack, but your presence instantly made me feel safe. we went back in and we shared tacos. it all felt so surreal. you were actually with me. my heart could stop pining for you to be next to me.  

when we got home, we sat on the couch and put on the SpongeBob Squarepants Movie. my head was spinning. I was in so much shock, J. we didn't even watch the movie. I was pacing again. you watched me with your big dark eyes (which are, by the way, much more mesmerizing in person) and kept asking me if I was okay. when I regained some control of myself, we goofed off and you took my phone. I chased you down for it. at one point I was on top of you, and I was just kind of like "oh. this is nice". I then asked you if you wanted to go outside with me. it was pouring rain, and that's my favorite weather (as you know). we stood out there for a good amount of time. It was 2AM, and you looked so beautiful standing in front of me with raindrops in your hair. I don't remember what we said, but I know my heart was bursting with love and happiness.

when we came back inside I told you I had to go to bed. my parents didn't want us sleeping together. you suddenly became extremely sad. this is when I showed you the letter I wrote before we met. you kissed me, and asked if I could lie down with you for a few minutes. I couldn't resist. those eyes get me every damn time.

we cuddled in your room. we talked and one thing started leading to another. the tension was high and we made love. thank god I was on birth control. that aside, everything was passionate and felt amazing. you're so perfect. I know you complain about being too skinny, but there is seriously not a single flaw. after our scandalous behavior, we had more deep conversations. I felt no less than absolute bliss.

I soon left for bed, and saw you again the next day. this is when your mental illnesses kicked back in. your anxiety and depression. we left the double date with my friend early and went home. we laid in your bed. you started venting and crying. I cried with you and did my best to reassure you. you felt happy again, and I was content.

I want to take a moment to talk about your mental health problems. I knew a lot about your OCD before we met. you made sure to go into deep detail to aid me in understanding. however, I noticed a few things you did not tell me. over Skype, it sometimes sounded like it was echoing when you said things. in person, I realized it was you repeating what you said under your breath. sometimes you repeated things once, sometimes twice. I also noticed that when taking something out of the fridge or off the shelf, you never took the first one. always the second. you told me this is because 2 is a better number than 1. I also never realized how you only take your food out the microwave when it hits certain times, and how you count how many ice cubes go into your drinks. I'm sorry you feel that you must do these rituals. your anxiety makes you extremely tense. before meeting, you told me that whenever you close your eyes, you see vivid images of horrible things happening. you hear them every so often, too. I know it must hurt and be hard to tell the difference between reality and illness.

you told me that when you're with me, you stop counting. you stop seeing things and hearing things. this is truly amazing to know, even though it is temporary. I want nothing more than to help you through your problems and be the one to love you through them. I'm really fucked up too. being on the autism spectrum and having selective mutism, I hadn't said a word to my aunt and uncle for years. when we saw them, I somehow could speak and hold a conversation. you made my social anxiety vanish. it feels good to talk like a normal person. thank you.

I think we mellow each other out a lot. we make each other less insane and more sane. you balance me out in all the right ways and I feel so whole.

I believe that your soul is peaceful, loving, kind, and pure. everything just hits you so deeply. your mental illnesses turn you into a ball of worry, which is something I truly don't think your soul is. you are gentle. you strive for everyone to be happy. you always come from a place of understanding and heart. I wish I was more like that. I'm lucky to have you help guide me into being a more sensitive human being. please remember that when you are feeling grim, it is not who you are in your core and that you are never alone. I will always be here. you're extremely strong and can control your mind enough to be happy. I promise.

I think I've laughed more in our three weeks than I ever have in my whole life. the belly laughs. the kind where your stomach hurts but you still can't stop. it felt so good, pretty boy. you're not much of a laugher yourself but it seemed as if we were always doing it. when I was being a smart ass during sex, you told me "you're the best person to have sex with". it's crazy, how comfortable we are. you and I are birds of a feather. the connection and chemistry is painfully obvious and even my mom said we're soulmates. I'm going to miss our laughter and goofy moments.

you are my favorite person. you paid for a million ubers just to go where I wanted, bought me things I really loved, carried every bag, matched every outfit with me, got food wherever I wanted, walked to my school to pick me up, always told me to be safe when we were apart, held me whenever we slept together, asked me if I was happy/warm enough/hungry, and cried with me every time I was sad. you are so fucking good to me, and so beyond selfless. you always have been. your heart is golden and I honestly don't know what I did to deserve you. you're my favorite person because of your caretaker nature. your ability to give kindness to everyone you meet. you always took the time to talk to the people we came across. you asked questions that specifically related to them and always acted interested. you're truly special. not many people are as generous or as sweet as you are.

I also love how we're completely comfortable with each other. I'm still beautiful to you with frizzy hair, morning breath, and embarrassing pjs. you're still beautiful to me with acne ointment, messy hair, and stinky farts. I never worry about looking bad in front of you. we've seen each other at our worst, and still cannot find any real flaws. you're my best friend and my partner for life. thank you for loving me despite my insanity and bad hair/face days.

you left less than a day ago, and I'm sitting here with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. even my mom cried when you got on that plane. I felt like I was abandoning you by leaving the airport. I can't stop crying. I know you'll be here in less than a month to see me graduate, but everything hurts. the pain is worth it, though. worth every kiss, hug, laugh, and cry. my 18th birthday is tomorrow. I'm going to spend it wishing you were still here. I didn't get to spend your 17th birthday two months ago with you, so I guess we're even. this is harder though. we hadn't met then.

I love you. I'm doing my best to be positive, as the distance will be completely over in June. 6 years of being 2,000 miles away will finally be finished.

remember, you'll never have anything to worry about. I'll always be yours, no matter what we go through. I'm in this for the rest of my life. you make me so fucking happy, and I will always want to do the same for you. you bring out my best and love me even when I'm everything but perfect.

I'm smelling the shirt you left me, it smells like sweet rain. I adore your scent. too bad this fabric is missing the bones I'm in love with.

you are my sunshine, my pretty boy, and my goose.

see you soon.

forever yours,

your insomniac/goose

[sweetpostdreamland]

Okay so I gotta get this off my chest. Back in March I had 3 resits and I was studying really hard cause those were the last 3 exams before I start my graduating semester in September. I had to decide to postpone that semester to September instead of starting it last February due to stress and mental health.

So I was studying my butt of and the Saturday before I had a night with friends to relax a bit. That Sunday I would have enough time to study some more and my first resit wasn’t until Monday evening.

But just an hour after I went to bed I was woken up by my father making weird noises downstairs. Like he was calling my mom who was already in bed. Luckily she heard it too. But before I knew it the ambulance had arrived and my dad was taken to the hospital. Okay damn this sounds like the stories you hear and not tell yourself.. Okay so my dad was rushed to the hospital and my mom and I drove to the hospital too. My brother wasn’t home and it was around 2am.

When we got in the hospital we got the news that he had a stroke back at home. It was a bleeding in his brains and eventhough I did see him before we left him in the hospital, we didn’t know how it all would turn out.

So my mom and I got home around 3:30am and we decided to go to bed cause we wouldn’t hear from the hospital untill 7am that morning. As you can imagine we didn’t really sleep at all.

So that Sunday, on which I was supposed to study my butt off for the resit I had on Monday became a total blur. I couldn’t study because I was not able to. Emotionally and physically. Sunday evening we knew that my dad his surgeries went well but nothing was certain.

So I mailed my mentor from school and he said I should email this special exam committee which I immediately did. But they always take at least 10 days to answer.

The next day was Monday, the day of my first resit and I really wasn’t able to sit down and write my exam. I was way too worried about my dad and the whole situation from Saturday night was actually kinda traumatic.

In the end I wasn’t able to make any of the 3 resits. My dad got worse Tuesday and Wednesday and my 2nd and 3rd resit were on Thursday.

After 10 days I got an email back from the exam committee and they told me they couldn’t do anything for me. I asked them before if I could take the resits another time because of the situation. They told me no. My first email was before the resits. So they said they hoped I still made them.

So I told them I did not do the resits and if that changed the situation. Again they told me no. And I asked my mentor but I haven’t heared from him since. Then a friend of mine came up to me and told me I could make it a case. Sort of ofcourse.

I decided to do that. I wrote a letter and sent it to the board of the school. Right now the case is going and the committee emailed me to invite me to talk about a compromise. Something they had to do.

That talk is tomorrow and I’m so nervous..

This post is way longer than I thought lol 😅 But I had to vent so yeah haha

Totally forgot to tell that my dad is doing okay right now, he is at home and will recover completely! ♡

[unemployedundergraduate]

Mirrors - Tyrus

I wrote a story about self acceptance may have been like for TJ, because he is a stereotypical masculine guy. This is the first chapter the rest is linked.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459142/chapters/59026999

TJ realized that he liked Cyrus right before costume day. He realized this because of Kira. “Have fun with that.” Those words echoed in his head as he walked home from school. When he got home, he was alone. His older brother got out of school later and both of his parents worked.

           He went up to his room and just stared at himself in the mirror. He laughed a little. He couldn’t actually like like Cyrus. He was the captain of the basketball team. He didn’t actually like boys. That was a ridiculous thing to think. Of course, Kira was wrong. Just then his phone went off.

Cy: Cant wait 4 tmrw! :))))

           His heart fluttered at the text. Crap. Yup, he definitely did like Cyrus. He looked back at himself in the mirror. He stared at himself again this time feeling the burning sensation of tears behind his eyes. He couldn’t like Cyrus that way. Reed and Lester always talked about how wrong it was. Boys couldn’t like other boys. It was gross.

           TJ threw himself on his bed and put his head in his pillow. He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he was woken up by his mom yelling for him to come down for dinner. TJ looked down at his pillow, there were very obvious wet marks from where he had been crying. He let out a sigh and walked downstairs.

           His parents talked about their days, and then asked his older brother, Kurt, about his. Finally, the conversation circled around to TJ. “How was your day sweetie?” His mom smiled at him.

           He shrugged, “It was alright, I guess.” His mom and dad looked at each other. This was not normal behavior for their son. Usually TJ oozed confidence and happiness.

           “Ok, well costume day is tomorrow, right? What are you doing for it?” At this point he was just pushing the food around his plate.

           He looked up at his mom, and then back down to his plate. “Um, Cyrus and I are doing a costume together.” He heard his dad laugh. He looked up at him.

           His mom shot his dad a death glare and then turned back to TJ. “That’s nice honey, what are you doing for it?”

           TJ trained his eyes back on his food, “We are um doing somersault. I’m gonna dress up in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, so I’m summer. Cyrus is gonna wear a salt costume.” He whispered his answer, almost like he didn’t want his family to hear him.

           He heard his dad scoff lightly. “I don’t think you should be doing that kind of stuff with another boy TJ. People might get the…wrong impression.” His mom once again shot him a glare.

TJ nodded, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He knew his dad was right. After dinner he went back upstairs and texted Kira.

TJ: hey I thought about it and I wanna do ur costume

Kira: Gr8! I’ll bring it 4 u tmrw.

           TJ sat down on his bed. He knew he should tell Cyrus he wasn’t doing their costume anymore, but he couldn’t bring him to do it. He just stared at his contact for what felt like forever. There was a knock on his door. “Come in,” Kurt walked into the room. He closed the door and leaned against it.

           “Hey, you good? You seemed kinda off at dinner?” TJ nodded.

           “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I had a math test today…you know how that goes for me.” It was a good excuse, because it was true; he was always sad after a math test. Even though he was doing better, he still felt crappy after taking one.

           His brother nodded at him, “Alright bud.” He turned and opened the door. Before he exited the room; he looked TJ over his shoulder. “You know Teej if you ever wanna talk to me about something you’re scared to talk about with mom or dad; you can talk to me.” TJ looked down at his hands and nodded. His brother left the room and closed the door.

           He went to bed early that night. He just wanted to escape his thoughts. Sleep wasn’t coming easy though. He kept hearing his dad’s words from dinner, “People might get the wrong impression.” But what if the “wrong impression,” was the right impression? TJ stood up in the darkness of the room.

           He walked over to his mirror once again. The only light in the room was coming through the window; illuminating him just enough so he could see himself in the mirror. “You don’t like Cyrus. You don’t like Cyrus.” He kept saying it over and over to himself, but the more he said it the more realized it wasn’t true. He hung his head as tears began to build in his eyes.

           He looked back up at himself. “You like Cyrus and it’s disgusting.” He spit at his reflection. “You can’t like boys, it’s wrong.” The tears began falling down his face. He began to quietly sob, so no one else in the house would hear him. “But I do like Cyrus.” He hung his head again.

           He was taking ragged breaths. “I’m…I’m…” he couldn’t bring himself to say the word. He thinks he always knew. He remembers looking at boys when the other boys started looking at girls. Once he heard the word used as an insult though and knew what it meant. He realized he could never ever be that. Even if it broke him.

           He got back into bed, and silently cried himself to sleep. He was thinking about what Cyrus’ face was gonna look like when he realized he bailed on the costume. He also thought about how everyone would think he and Kira were dating now. He shuddered at the thought. He didn’t want that, but it was safer than the alternative. He finally drifted off to sleep around 2am.

--

           He went to school the next day and waited by the tree that Kira told him to meet her at. She walked up to him wearing a shirt that read “dribble.” He reached into her bag and handed one that also said “dribble.” He looked up at her confused. “We’re double dribble, get it?” TJ let out a weak laugh.

           “Yeah, that’s funny.” It wasn’t. He liked his and Cyrus’s costume idea better, but here we were. He slipped on the shirt over his existing shirt. He walked over to where Cyrus was. His stomach dropped as he saw Cyrus see him. His face instantly fell. “Hey guys.” He tried to sound a little bit happy.

           Cyrus looked him up and down, “what happened to somersault?” TJ gulped.

           “Um, Kira needed a partner for her costume, and I figured Buffy and Andi would let you tag along with theirs.” Buffy and Andi glared at him.

           “What are you supposed to be anyway?” Buffy had sharp tone to her voice, which he knew he deserved.

           “Kira has one that says dribble too…it’s double dribble, haha.” His laugh was not real at all, and the other three could tell.

           Andi shook her head at TJ and turned to Cyrus, “you can be in ours, ok?” Cyrus nodded.

           “Well…bye.” TJ walked away with a little wave.

--

           He felt horrible the entire day. He knew what he did was wrong. He hadn’t even told him. He just bombarded him with it. He embarrassed him. He hurt Cyrus. He walked home from school, ignoring the texts from Kira. He walked up to his room and tried to text Cyrus.

TJ: Cyrus I’m sorry I should have told you.

           No response, but he did get a text from Buffy.

Buffy: Honestly Kippen, that was low, even for you. You hurt him so badly, and you don’t even care. TJ, I thought you were becoming a better person, turns out I was wrong.

           He didn’t respond to her; he knew she didn’t want a response from him. He ripped off the stupid T-shirt and threw it at the wall. He flopped onto his bed and put his hands over his face. He began to cry for what felt like the millionth time that week.

           He hated what he did, he couldn’t believe he did it. He was disgusted with himself. He was disgusted because he hurt Cyrus but also because he cared so much that he hurt Cyrus. He began to sob into his hands. He felt there was nothing he could do to fix this. Just then someone walked into his room.

           He shot up and began wiping his eyes. It was Kurt, he looked concerned. “Hey bud you ok?”

           TJ nodded his head, “yeah just um…” Kurt looked at him skeptically. TJ began to shake his head, the tears started flowing again. “No,” he let out barely above a whisper.

           Kurt closed the door and sat next to TJ on his bed. “Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He shook his head, because he didn’t. He couldn’t handle the rejection from his own family, not after today. “Ok, but, you know you can right?” TJ looked up at the 18-year old for any signs of doubt, or sarcasm.

           He found none. “I um I hurt Cyrus. I didn’t do his costume. I did a costume with a girl named Kira.” He lowered his head into his hands. “Now he hates me, they all do.” He looked at his brother again. “They all do, I don’t have anyone.” He brother put an arm around him.

           “Hey Teej, I’m sure they don’t hate you. You just need to give them time, and apologize…maybe a lot.” TJ looked back down at his lap and nodded. “Why…why didn’t you do the costume with Cyrus?” He looked back into his brother’s eyes.

           He didn’t he didn’t know if he could tell him. Kurt gave him a kind, little smile. TJ began wringing his hands, “at dinner um…dad said how people might get the ‘wrong impression’…” He looked to see if there was any change in his brother’s face. There wasn’t, still just a smile with kind eyes, Kurt definitely had their mom’s eyes. He looked back down at his hands, “but I think…maybe the ‘wrong impression’…” He took a deep breath, “I think it might be the right impression.”

           TJ began sobbing again. He put his head in his lap. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Kurt. He knew he was going to hate him. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Suddenly he heard Kurt. He was squatted down in front of him. He put his hands on TJ’s knees to steady himself.

           “Hey TJ, come on, look at me.” TJ couldn’t do it; he couldn’t face the disappointment. He shook his head. “TJ, seriously look at me.” His brother had a stern tone of voice. TJ looked up slowly. When he met the 18-year old’s eyes he didn’t see any sign of anger, or disappointment. “TJ, it’s ok, if you’re…if you like Cyrus. You’re allowed to do that.” TJ stopped sobbing.

           He sniffled, “it…I am?” Kurt nodded with a smile.

           “Of course buddy. Did you think I was gonna be mad?” TJ nodded. It wasn’t just him; it was their entire family. “Teej, I love you so much. You’re my little brother, nothing could ever change that…even if you do like boys.” Kurt stood up and sat next to him again.

           “But, dad seemed so…so…disappointed. He’s gonna be mad Kurt.” He looked up at his brother. His bottom lip was trembling.

           “It’s gonna be ok. He just…he doesn’t understand it. He’s never…he grew up when that wasn’t ok. But mom won’t care at all. She will help make dad understand, ok?” TJ smiled up at him. Kurt side hugged TJ and stood up to leave the room.

           With the acceptance of his brother TJ felt like he finally had the confidence to say it. “Wait, Kurt…” he turned back around. “I’m…I…I’m gay.” He said quietly, because he had never heard himself say it out loud. He felt proud of himself, as a smile grew onto his face.

           Kurt smiled back down at him, “I’m so proud of you Thelonious Jagger.” Kurt smirked and then dodged the pillow TJ threw at him.

           “I hate you,” TJ laughed as he was wiping tear marks from his face. “But, um…thanks.” Kurt nodded and left the room.

--

           After many, many weeks trying to reform he and Cyrus’s friendship, and they were finally back to somewhat normal. TJ hadn’t told anyone else that he was gay. He kept hanging out with Kira to make sure no one found out. He didn’t want Cyrus to know, because that could ruin their friendship again, because he might feel weird about TJ being gay.

           Tonight, was Andi’s party and he was having a really good time with his friends. He loved the goofy way Cyrus was dancing. It was so cute…no not cute. He had to get over his crush on him. Just then Kira walked over and began actually laughing. “Look at Cyrus that’s hilarious.”

           TJ turned to her “you can’t do that.”

           “Do what?” She returned.

           “Laugh at someone for the way they dance.” He was getting heated.

           “You did it too.” He sassed back at him

           “No, I didn’t, I thought it was fun, not funny.” He crossed his arms

           She rolled her eyes, “Why don’t you just admit what this is really about?” he looked at her confused. “If I asked you to pick between me or Cyrus; you’d pick Cyrus.” He looked over at Cyrus dancing on the floor. He felt a smile tug at his lips, but then fall, because he remembered the situation. He looked at the ground. “Exactly. Goodbye TJ.” She stomped away.

           TJ was just gonna try and have fun for the rest of the night; ignoring the fact that Kira was probably gonna out him tomorrow to the whole school. They sang and danced until about 9:30. His parents were picking him up at 10. He went outside to sit on a bench around the fire.

           “Mind if I join you?” He looked up and saw Cyrus. He nodded. Cyrus looked around. “Where did Kira go?”

           TJ smirked, “probably back to her cave.”

           Cyrus laughed lightly, “I would believe that.” They laughed. “You know, I had no idea you played piano.”

           TJ turned toward his friend, “Well, my mom is a piano teacher.”

           Cyrus looked shocked, “I didn’t know that either.”

           TJ laughed, “I’m not secretive, you can ask me anything.”

           Cyrus thought for a moment and then asked, “What does TJ stand for?”

           TJ’s face dropped, “except that.” Cyrus frowned.

           “Please TJ pretty please. I thought you weren’t secretive.” Cyrus crossed his arms but had a smile on his face.

           TJ smiled at him, “Fine, but you can’t tell anyone, you can’t laugh at it, and you can NEVER use it.” Cyrus nodded. “Ok… TJ stands for…Thelonious Jagger…” He looked at Cyrus’ smile. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

           Cyrus didn’t laugh, “that is a great name! Seriously I love that name.”

           TJ smiled shyly, “um thanks…my grandparents didn’t, they started calling me TJ and it stuck.” They laughed. Their smiles faded into serious faces. “Is…there anything else you want to know?”  TJ began moving his hand toward Cyrus’ that was resting on the bench.

           Cyrus looked down at his moving hand and then back up. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

           TJ let out a deep breath, “yeah.” He sounded unsure. “Is there…anything you want to tell me?” He moved his hand closer.

           Cyrus’ smile grew into a nervous smile, “yes.” TJ let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding in. TJ smiled and connected their hands. They both sat and smiled at each other for a bit. “So…you like me too?”

           TJ let out a laugh and looked down at their hands. “More than anything.” Cyrus smiled big. “Do you maybe…wanna like…give this a try?”

           Cyrus looked down at their hands and then back up. “More than anything.” TJ smiled at him.

--

           When his dad texted him that he was outside. He and Cyrus stood up. They hugged for what felt like forever. “I’ll text you later…ok?” TJ asked. Cyrus nodded. They hugged quick again, and TJ left.

           He got into the passenger seat of his dad’s car. “So how was the party?” TJ smiled down at the hand that had been holding Cyrus’ not 5 minutes earlier.

           “It was…it was really good.” He smiled up at his dad. His dad just grunted and nodded.

           When they got home his mom was in the living room. “Hi honey, how was it?”

           He walked over and gave her a hug, “it was really good mom.” She smiled. His brother appeared from the kitchen and sat in the recliner. His dad was about to walk upstairs.

           TJ made a split-second decision that he might regret later, but he was too high up right now; and he needed to do this now or he might never. “Wait.” His dad stopped and turned back around. His mom and brother both looked over at him. “I wanna…I need to talk to you guys.” His dad descended the stairs and sat next to his wife on the couch. TJ sat down on the loveseat.

           His mom looked concerned, “is everything alright baby? Is it your grades?”

           TJ shook his head and looked at Kurt, he gave him a small smile and a knowing look. “No, my grades are fine. It’s um something else.” His parents both nodded. “So…” he began to rub his palms together. His parents were looking more concerned by the minute. “It’s not a bad thing…at least I don’t think it is…” Kurt turned to his parents and nodded.

           “Wait you know?” Their mom gave almost a look of betrayal that he knew before she did. Kurt nodded, and turned back to his phone.

           “Um…I…tonight…this is really hard for me.” His mom went to stand up to sit by him. “No!” She seemed stunned. “Please, it’ll be easier if you’re…if you stay there.” She sat back down. “I think…well no. I know…I just…I…I have a boyfriend.” He immediately looked at his hands. There was silence. Kurt seemed a little shocked about the recent development but, was looking at their parents too.

           Hi dad finally spoke, “…who is it?” TJ looked up at them. They both had expressions that were unreadable by TJ, but didn’t seem to be for Kurt. He looked angry at their parents, but stayed quiet.  

           He looked down at his feet. He was pretty sure his dad already knew what the answer was going to be. “It’s…um…Cyrus.” His dad slammed his hand down onto the arm of the couch. TJ flinched.

           He stood up from where he was sitting. “So, you’re gay then. Is that it?” He had a harsh tone to his voice. TJ didn’t even get to respond before his dad spoke again. “You know what. I don’t want to know.”

           He began walking up the stairs, his mom called after him. “Marty come on.”

           He turned around, “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear about it.” He had anger in his voice, but he was whispering. He disappeared up the stairs.

           His mom turned back to TJ who now had tears steadily streaming down his face. Kurt walked over at sat by him. He pulled him into a hug. “He…he hates me…” He whispered into Kurt’s shirt.

           Kurt looked at their mom, he gave her a look that seemed to get her attention. She rushed to the side of her sons. “He doesn’t hate you honey. He just…he doesn’t understand it. You’re on the basketball team, you’ve always been athletic, you-“ TJ cut her off.

           “What does any of that have to do with this? I’m…I can still be athletic and…and gay.” Kurt still holding him in the hug. He shot his mom a disappointed look. “I’m sorry that you guys are disappointed. I tried to change mom. I really did.” He began crying harder. “But…but it hurts. I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry.” His mom sat on the ground speechless.

           “Honey. I am not disappointed in you. I am sorry if I made you feel like that. Your dad will come around. I’ll talk to him, I promise.” His mom began tearing up. “I’m so sorry baby. I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from us.” TJ looked up at his mom.

           She opened her arms for him, and he flung himself into them. He was sobbing into his mom’s shirt. Kurt ruffled TJ’s hair and got up to leave the two of them alone. “I’m so sorry mom. I…I’m sorry. I didn’t want to like boys…but…” She began shushing him.

           “Baby, it’s ok. I promise. I’ll love you forever. You know I love Cyrus too. You got a good one honey.” He pulled away and smiled at his mom.

           He nodded, “yeah I really do. He’s great.” His mom held and “rocked” him (even though he was about as tall as her now) until he stopped crying.