#i was working while she slept and she even said im only interested in things if it benefits me

[meowsogynist]

My mom really is trying to get me to kill myself at this point

[artdcnaldson]

looove the patrick’s sister au where art is super mean to her but hear me out im having thoughts and behaving in ways

im gonna emoji sign this if i may just in case you’d like to enable me

alt au where patricks sister is just super super mean and unapologetic like patrick. think sarah michelle gellar in cruel intentions kinda. like fully a bitch and she has a craaazy corruption kink with repressed art

like mayyybee patrick mentioned art wanting to save himself for marriage or smth like that to her and her brain goes brrrrrr i need to defile him… maybe everytime arts at their house she’ll like flirt with him unabashedly… suck on lollipops while looking him in the eye… rub her ass against him pretending to reach for things… and her just having so much fun when he gets all red and flustered and hard :(

idk just some thoughts

- 🐚 (if its available)

This made me need to take a walk. Had to crack open a cold Diet Coke to address this.

But yeah :(( art comes to stay with you and Patrick a lot for summers and holidays since, y’know, he can’t exactly stay at his grandmother’s nursing home.

You and Patrick have lived in the pool house forever— pool house is actually a stupid name for it. It’s a guest house, two full bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a whole loft upstairs. It’s obscene how fucking rich you two are.

And he gets so squirmy when he’s around you and Patrick, but even more when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s been staying up in the loft, pads down the stairs after a lazy, midday nap. And it’s just you on the couch, watching a movie. It’s dark, maybe he slept later than he thought he did.

“Where’s Pat?”

You shrug, pat the sofa beside you. He sits, but leaves an entire cushion between the two of you. “I think he’s fucking the neighbor. The one with the cute curly hair.” Art flushes, ducks his head. You smile, showing off pretty teeth. “Aw… I’m sorry, should I have said he’s making love to the neighbor?”

“Shut up,” he mutters. He’s pink to the tips of his ears.

It’s interesting, you think, that he told Patrick he’s saving himself. It’s sweet, very… admirable. But it’s such a fucking waste. He looks so yummy in his flannel pajama pants and grey tank top that shows off his muscles.

“So, you’re a virgin?” You ask, turning to face him. His eyes go wide before his face twists in annoyance. He splutters out weak— what did Pat say— That’s none of your business— you’re so out of line— but you interrupt. “No need to be shy about it, Art. I think it’s… very cute you want to wait until your wedding night. I’m sure you’ll have a really riveting time figuring out where it goes.”

“Shut up.” It’s the second time he’s said it that night. He really needs to work on his comebacks.

“I can give you a hint,” you say with a grin, scooting across the empty cushion until your knees touch. “There are two main holes down there, and it’s the one that gets all slick and wet when she’s turned on.” He clenches his jaw, looks away.

You laugh and sit back, only slightly. “Aren’t you going to thank me for the tip?”

He turns back, eyes narrowed. “You’re not very funny.”

“Was I joking?” You trail a finger up his arm, give him a crooked smile. “Really, Art, it’s sweet. Maybe I should’ve saved my virginity for a nicer boy instead of losing it in the golf cart shed at the country club.”

He stammers. “You— you could always—“ he can’t even meet your gaze, it’s too humiliating. The smug expression you wear pins him in place. “Start now. Promise to not have sex anymore, not until it’s with someone you love. It’s— it’s more special that way.”

You stick out your bottom lip. “You think I deserve special?” You ask softly. He shivers as your fingers trace swirls onto his chest. “That I need candles and rose petals and soft jazz music when someone stuffs me full of their cock?”

It’s too precious. Too good. His cheeks flame and he sits back. He stands suddenly, doesn’t even look at you as he marches back upstairs. You grin and listen to the sound of the shower turning on upstairs.

You wait until you hear the scrape of the shower curtain closing to pad upstairs and sit outside of the door. A smug grin spreads across your lips at the sound of him jerking off.

All whiny, poorly muffled moans, the slick sound of him beating his dick. All, ah! ah! ah! oh, fuck! god— fuck! You can tell when he cums based on how pitchy and whiny he gets, and the way you hear his head knock against the tile.

You fight the urge to let him know you heard, instead you slip back downstairs. When he comes down, you’ve switched the movie, act like you’d never left at all. You can see the guilt in his expression, like he knew he’d done something bad.

God, he’d be so easy.

[designernishiki]

I saw your post where you said something like «Kiryu and Mayumi slept in the same bed for six months» and... I kina doubt it. This bed is too small for two people, it hardly accommodates Kiryu, given his size. So she was probably either sleeping on the floor or sleeping somewhere else.

For some reason I always thought that she didn't live with him at all, just came there from time to time. If you look at the apartment where Kiryu lives, you can see that there are only his things there and no other things. And I don't remember exactly, but Mayumi's profile at the beginning of the game says something like «she's disappointed that their relationship won't get off the ground» or something like that. So, yes, the poor girl was desperate for him while he was in his le gay depression phase.

okay so I was waiting to answer this until I started legit playing 5 so I could have a bit more context and whatnot and now I have done that and hdhxjcjdjv boy do I have a lot of thoughts. warning: this is kinda long.

so I can clarify now that– yeah– they weren’t actually living together technically, she would just come over a lot and spend the night there regardless of his opinion on it (which typically was “you should go home” or “you should stay at your own place for once” no im not just being mean, those are both almost word-for-word). she does have slippers there by the door that denote she’s there often, but his apartment’s pretty barren overall, which to me says less about her being around or not, and more about him probably only going home when he needs to sleep or runs out of things to do, not hanging around there much otherwise– he’s got no books, no radio, nothing. just an ashtray on the table. It’s safe to say it’s not a place he enjoys being in.

And yeah, it’s bizarre how many people say “kiryu had a girlfriend for six months” despite her profile and kiryu himself in dialogue stating… kind of the opposite? ie; that they were not a couple, kiryu was disinterested in her, and their lack of a relationship/kiryu’s lack of interest was frustrating to her. She was never his girlfriend despite her giving her all to get him to budge, and that’s kind of an important part of the dynamic.

(here’s her character profile for reference.)

As for the bed thing… honestly I’ve got no idea how that worked. cause you’re totally right, that bed is SMALL– relatively small for kiryu alone let alone two people, and she wasn’t legit living there so obviously she didn’t have her own room or anything. so my bet’s either that there was a futon that could be rolled out, since that’s pretty common in japan, or that she slept kinda cuddled up close to him and he just sort of laid there stiffly not really sure what to do about it– probably wearing him down with the good ol “well there’s only one bed and I wouldn’t want either of us to have to sleep on the floor…” one night, and she took that and ran with it from then on. either way, also of note, whenever she was around (or could show up at any time) he wore a full sweatsuit, even while in bed. yeah you could blame it on it being winter and all, but come on man who he hell wears a sweatshirt and sweatpants to bed. I think he was just genuinely uncomfortable with the idea of being unclothed in close quarters with her.

it seems like he wasn’t sleeping much in the first place anyway, so I don’t doubt he’d end up slipping away and falling asleep either on the floor or at the table or whatever at times. we know he’s not a big fan of being touched and cuddled or whatever when he doesn’t want it/by almost anyone, so I think it’d just be an ongoing losing battle between not wanting to be too harsh or rude, and preserving his own comfort and boundaries. as an autistic guy who’s particular about his sleeping conditions and necessary privacy myself, it kind of sounds like a nightmare not gonna lie.

anywho. I don’t wanna sound too negative towards mayumi as a character or anything, but it’s pretty straightforward that she was imposing on him quite a bit and did go beyond his boundaries at a time when he was especially emotionally vulnerable– and he let her in because she was in a place of vulnerability, at least so he thought. there’s plot reasons for her persistence in being there to an extent, and maybe that’s why she didn’t take the very very obvious hint that he was not interested in her and not just playing hard to get (is it really a hint when he tells her directly to her face? whatever you get it)

[mangoposts]

Mina i need to rant but i also need an opinion before i do sum stupid

so basically i miss like crazy my ex situationship (it lasted 5 FUCKING YEARS). So long story short we know each other since we were kids but never really had any interest in each other before we were like 16 right. Then we were on and off for the most part. When we were on, it was GREAT, we argued all the time but with passion yk ? Like the hatred ignited a fire and it was great, like adrenaline it was so addictive. But when we were off, we were OFF. It was so bad, we teared each other apart like crazy. Like we dated other people just out of spite and shit. But since like august 2023, we were good and I really thought it would work this time. But then he cheated again (oh bc yeah even tho we were technically dating, i consider it cheating) with one of his ex. I discovered it in march 2023, after i lost someone really close to me and was grieving, i found out he slept at her house more than once. I was too disappointed to say anything so i just blocked him. He still tried to reach out and blamed it on him because I wasn’t giving him enough attention (mind you i was grieving and had a really hard time getting over it)

Then, in july, i saw that he and his ex (with who he cheated on me with and who is his actual gf since i called it off with him) were together in Portugal (our families both immigrated to the same country and even the same part of the country, so we all go back to Portugal during summer). So you can only imagine how devastated I was when I saw that (and especially because getting back together in Portugal was the main thing for us, everytime we were back in our usual lives, that was when things went downhill). Also keep in mind that NO ONE knew about us except my cousin and his bsf, it was his choice but i was okay with it

Anyway, i went to Portugal too and completely ignored him. It was so hard because we have the same group of friends so we spent everyday together. It was the worst like i was so down because i lost the person i was grieving and i lost him (let’s call him T). T was not only the guy im in love with but he was also my best friend in a way. We are the same. So ignoring him like that killed me ngl. I met his new gf and I can’t hate her, she is very sweet and pretty. And she met his family in less than four months while in 5 years never once did I talked to his brother at least. Then his gf left and he stayed in our hometown in Portugal, he tried to make a comeback but i turned it down quick.

A week before he left, he really wanted us to talk so I agreed (I needed a really convo with him about what happened) but i got no answers he simply apologised and said he was dumb and didn’t know why he did that (always the same excuse). But then he hit me with something INSANE like this mf dared tell me that him bringing his gf in Portugal was the best way to sign the end of us and everything we had, he said that we tried and it doesn’t work out no matter how much love there is between us and in a way he did it for us like bro ????? I mean he’s not wrong but my ego took a tool with that

In conclusion, i miss him so bad and it’s eating me alive and idk how to do and i can’t talk to other guys because im sick of men

- 🧘‍♀️

I wish i could give you advice on this but i am also madly in love with a situationship who ruined any chances of future love for me so all i can say is i understand how you feel and im sorry 😭😭😭💔 One day someone else will compare

[menalez]

I’m sorry if this is triggering to you, if it is please feel free not to respond. But I need to share this with someone and I feel like you might understand it a bit based on what you’ve shared before.

Basically, I wasn’t interested in men growing up. In high school this became a problem as my friends kept bothering me about it. I was starting to feel super lonely because all my friends were dating. One dude decided to like me and I told him I wasn’t interested. Despite this he kissed me one day. I wasn’t into it, but I wanted him to still hang out with me cause I was still lonely. He stopped hanging out with me though because apparently he had a girlfriend. During this time my friends pressured me to date a friend. I hated it. I tried really hard not to be alone with him. I even hated when he held my hand.

Fast forward I broke up with him. I realized I liked women. Finally understood what my friends were all on about. But there were no SSA women around me so I was mostly closeted. Also I grew up in a Muslim country too.

Then the previous guy sexually assaulted me. My “best friend” told me I probably wanted it. I started sleeping around with men, but I’d always had to get very drunk or high and still hated to even touch them when sober. This went on for around 3 years. I really got into BDSM. That was literally the only way I felt something. Never orgasmd or anything. Then I got raped. I think. I’m not even sure I was so drunk but I do kinda remember saying I didn’t want it.

Anyways, I started therapy again. It took me a while to accept I was sexually assaulted by both men. Also that I have a substance abuse problem. After accepting the things that happened, I never wanted to touch another man again. I never felt anything for a man, especially the way I’m feeling towards women. I am in love now. we’re not dating but just thinking about her makes me smile. I love her so much, I hope to ask her out when her finals are over. I never felt like this. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. Even if she rejects me, knowing I can feel this way makes me so happy. I used to feel broken and empty, I thought something was wrong with me for not liking men, I always had to fake it to my friends, I had to get wasted to let a man touch me. But now I feel so full with love. Nothing feels forced. Kissing her beautiful lips seems like a gift.

I don’t know if I’m a lesbian or a bisexual, but due to the amount of men I slept and the fact most people around me know I slept with men, I tell people I’m a bisexual with super high preference for women lol. I don’t know if I ever felt attraction to men or if I was just traumatized. All I know that it doesn’t matter anymore. Healing is possible. It takes time and work, but it is possible. Now I can see colors of the rainbow I’ve never imagined. I don’t care if I was ever or will ever be attracted to men. i choose women everyday. And I feel so lucky.

I just wanted to share this. I don’t know why. I don’t even expect you to answer. But I feel like my story took a positive turn, and I’d like to share that postivity with at least someone.

Have a nice day, and fuck the haters ✌️

i can’t tell u whether u ever were attracted to men or not, based on what you said here i would assume not. it sounds like you were raped, it traumatised you and you responded in a way many many rape victims have: trying to feel in control of your body by “willingly” doing things that you actually don’t want to do. im not even sure id say any of these situations were consensual if you were clearly intoxicated all the time. it sounds like a very difficult situation to be in and i empathise deeply with you.

im really glad things are turning around for u ❤️ if u don’t care how u feel about men but know u love women & prioritise them daily, then all the power to you. im glad you’re growing and healing everyday, that’s what matters the most 🥰

[marvelousjj]

Some people have been checking on me to see what's bee going on with life. I figured I would post here about what's been going on. I'm gonna put most of it under a read more so nobody gets triggered. Might delete this later. I'm just feeling really down lately and could use some support.

First I have to take you way back to my senior year of highschool. For context I'm turning 33 in March. My parents were going camping, I was going to a performance I was in, and my brother was going out of town for a conference. My parents and step brothers went first, then I left, followed by my brother. I was called suddenly being told my mom was picking me up and I had to be outside waiting. After a silent car ride home we arrive to find a cop car waiting. After being interrogated for an hour the cop leaves. Why was the cop there? My parents claimed they came home to the door open and drugs on the coffee table. They said nothing was stolen. I took a drug test, came up negative for everything (and was even supervised while taking the test). I went to be crying that night and the following morning I was woken up at 6am saying my step dad would be home at noon for lunch and I had to be gone by then.

I had a whole second year of highschool I had to do. I didn't know how to live on my own, and suddenly I was sitting in a diner with a duffle bag, and not knowing where to go. I got up, I found a place to stay eventually, and I graduated the next year. All without my parents help.

Now...We can fast forward to present day...

I had moved back home after a very nasty breakup of a toxic relationship that lasted 3 years. This is after a long time of working on getting myself back on top, being diagnosed with debilitating anxiety and ptsd from said event that happened when I was in highschool. My mom came to me with information that my dad was gambling all their money away. Like, her whole savings. Then one morning I wake up to find I slept through my mom finding him smoking (and this is in his words) not meth but the closest thing he could make with over the counter stuff. She kicked him out and said she wanted a divorce. Little more context. I have an 8 year old child and have a history with my biological dad of drug abuse, so I have quite a bit of issues with that stuff. After FOUR DAYS he comes over in the middle of the night, and she lets him sleep over without telling my brother and I. When she comes downstairs and tells us he's moving back in, we both explained why we weren't comfortable with it, she had nothing to say.

I was heartbroken. I was basically told that after I didn't do anything all those years ago, I was kicked out, but all he had to say was sorry and he got to come right back. When I asked for an explanation (never even got an im sorry after all these years) he explained to me that there were other children in the house they needed to think about? And that if CPS got called they would lose all the kids? I had proven my innocence only to find out it didn't matter. I was a scape goat for my parents.

So my brother and I looked for a place, and I told my parents I wasn't interested in hearing anything they had to say and bid them a wonderful life. This apparently has caused my mother to harass me with messages (until finally I gave her one final warning to back off and now she has blocked me), saying my brother and I have given her ptsd over it, and claiming that I'm doing things like pulling the victim card. She even talks about me in chat like I'm not even there.

I can't go a single day without having a panic attack. I'm constantly on edge, my sleep schedule is all out of whack, and on top of that I'm getting ready to start life over in Indiana.

I don't know why I wrote this...other than it's really lonely right now. I feel like that same scared teenager and I'm realizing that my parents were never really in my corner. I guess I'm just looking for support. I'm not very good at making friends in person so a lot of people on here are my support circle.

Anyways...I'm gonna go try and find something to do. Thanks for reading if you did. And know you are loved and appreciated.

[iwadori]

Hey! I really liked that atsumu x reader fic where reader's Kita's sister. Could we get a similar fic but instead it's Kuroo dating kenma's equally as socially awkward sister/team manager?

Dating your Brothers teammate PT 2 (Kuroo)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.8K

Genre: angst, fluff

You were a first year in Nekoma high school

You kept to yourself, since you found it hard to make friends

You spent your time in your classes, the library or joining your old brother’s (kenma) practices, although when you did attend you didn’t socialize with all your brother teammates you either sat with a book on in your hand or (if you were lucky) played on Kenma’s nintendo swtich.  

When Kuroo first saw you, he thought you were the prettiest girl that he ever laid his eyes on. He was speechless, to say the least. Kenma introduced him and you first as when you started in your first year, since he knew that you two should at least be acquainted with each other as you were all going to be walking to school together.

You found Kuroo very annoying (and that was an understatement) his debonair smirk, his wild wild bedhead and all of his continuous chemistry puns were things you found attractive annoying about him.  

Sometimes when you attend practice, you could tell that Kuroo was trying extra hard in an attempt to ‘show off’ to you, but you took no notice since you knew what type of guy Kuroo was (well you thought). Kuroo was a heavy flirt (well everyone he laid eyes on) he also was a giant dick. To you, he was a your average stereotypical teenage boy.

One day, Kenma fell ill with a cold so it just left you alone to walk to school. However, when you left your house, you see the last person you want to see.  

“Kenma’s not coming today” you whisper softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah I know” he smiled

“So then why are you here?” you ask

“Well I’ll have you know Y/N, I’m here to see you.” he said as you start walking

On your route to school, you don’t say much just letting Kuroo talk about things or asking you questions to which you just nodded or shook your head in reply. As much as you’d like too, you didn’t know how to properly talk to someone like Kuroo, knowing the types of conversations he’s used to having with people, especially other girls.

Reaching the gates of Nekoma, before you could step inside Kuroo pulls you to side and puts his hands on your shoulders “Y/N” he says,

“Yes Kuroo?” you look up at him

“I just want to say I like you..” he says waiting for a response from you  

“I-I ...umm” You didn’t really know what to say, although you did find him annoying beyond relief there were some redeeming qualities about Kuroo that you could think of. But would two even work properly?

From your lack of response Kuroo continued, “I’m sure you don’t trust me right now, but Y/N don’t worry I’ll make sure I’ll prove to you that I’m a good guy for you.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, since you didn’t really know what to say to that. Just then, the bell rings and you were still frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when you hear Kuroo shout from afar “Don’t worry Y/N im going to do my best to woo you!”

Over the next month, Kuroo is doing his extra best to get you to fall in love with him doing things like: walking you to your lessons, carrying your books for you, bringing you lunch and spending everyday complimenting you to your face and to his friends.  

His actions made you swoon, you did feel more comfortable around him, although you haven't confessed your feelings yet, you were planning on to at the date that you reluctantly accepted to go on. You were going to have dinner first at this nice restaurant that you showed interest in ages ago and you were planning to watch a sequel to *insert favourite movie here* since he knew that you really liked the first one.

Before leaving out to the date you looked in the mirror giving yourself a once over. ‘Wow I look hot’ you thought smiling, you were kind of excited to see Kuroo and hear what he had to say about how you looked today. When you were leaving you were startled by Kenma who said

“Where are you going Y/N?” he asked with his eyes focused on his game

“Oh, to the library” you lied your cheeks heating up.

“Sure, you are...” he said

“Bye Kenma” you say putting your hand on the door knob

“Oh Y/N” he calls

“Mhm”  

“You look nice today” making you smile wide giving your brother a ‘Thank you’ before finally leaving.

On the way to the restaurant, you had a pep in your step, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been in a while. You stood outside the restaurant and took a few deep breaths to calm the sudden surge of nerves that washed over you. You counted to 10 and walked in the resturaunt freezing at what you saw, there was Kuroo looking as handsome as ever but next to him was a beautiful girl who was tall and had long hair, pretty eyes and a great body who also reminded you of someone you knew (but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.)

She exclaimed “Tetsu!” and pulling into a hug, her boobs pushing against his chest making you cringe. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t compete with this European-looking supermodel, especially she already looks really friendly with ‘Tetsu.’  

You storm out the restaurant a bit too aggressively, causing attention to yourself making Kuroo look at over to you, cursing himself for knowing how the situation looks to you. He chases after you, but sadly you were already gone.

When you got home, you rushed upstairs to your room with tears in your eyes. You knew this was stupid in the first place ‘Trusting a guy like Kuroo Testurou, how stupid can you be.’  

Kenma came into your room, never asking or caring to know what happened as he knew that once you were ready to tell him you would. You and Kenma have always been close, as you’re both as quiet as each other you never felt the need to be surrounded by a bunch of people since both of you were just what each of you needed.

You managed to forget the awfulness of your ‘date’ getting distracted by trying to win in a game of Murder Mystery on roblox and also having fun trolling 6 year olds with your brother. The night was basically ended and before you dozed off to sleep and Kenma went to his own bedroom he said “At least talk to him Y/N” leaving your room not waiting for a response.

As you slept, you thought about what Kenma said ‘what more is their to say to Kuroo?’ You did think about all the possibilites of what could’ve really happened with Kuroo and that girl. Maybe they’re just friends? You didn’t want to think about the possibility of you being wrong. You were never wrong. So you just slept with the assumption of Kuroo being who you thought he was in the first place. A womanizing dick.

As lonely it was, you didn’t tag along with Kenma to the gym and you made sure to wake up earlier so you didn’t have to walk to school with your brother and your boyfriend his best friend.  

Kuroo really wanted to talk to you again but you were heavy on the ignoring him. He even asked Kenma for help, but even though your brother was definitely always going to be on your side no matter what, he didn’t want to be in between his bestfriend and his little sister.

When you were walking home from school one day, you were stopped by the pretty girl that was with Kuroo on your ‘date.’ “Hi, my name is Alisa Haiba” she said smiling

‘Haiba’ you thought ‘Where do I know that surname?’ until you realised, “Oh your L-”

“Lev’s sister, that knucklehead is my brother” she laughed

“So what do you need me for?” you ask  

“Me and Kuroo are just friends, I know you probably won’t believe me but me and him are NOT dating or anything romantic, he’s as much as a little brother too me then Lev is” she said

“Oh ok, thanks” you didn’t have any more to say and with this newfound information, you did feel more inclined to give Kuroo a chance, and that is if he even wanted one after all the ignoring and avoiding you’ve been doing. Now you feel stupid.

You thought back to all your times with Kuroo, making you smile. You knew what you had to do, you couldn’t shy away from this anymore, you thought about the scenario of him completely rejecting you and to be honest you were content with that as if ‘you don’t ask you don’t get’ or whatever the saying is. Since it was Friday, you knew that Kuroo would be at Kenmas playing smash bros on their switches (and that’s when you would usually spend extra time at the library to avoid him.)

So, you rushed to your house, dramatically opening the door exasperated. “Kuroo!” you shout, not even looking to see if he was there, to your horror there was the whole team over tonight who were quite humored by your shout.  

You went red and then shyly whispered “May I speak to Kuroo please?” looking up at him “that’s if you wanted”

“Umm...sure” he said getting up to follow you into your room.

Kenma gave you a reassuring smile that read ‘Everything's going to be ok.’ You led Kuroo to your bedroom and sat on your bed fidgeting.  

“I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry”

You both say at the same time, making each other laugh he waits for you to speak, “Kuroo, I’m sorry for misreading the situation and ignoring you and making you out to be a complete dick, I know I’m probably a bit too late but I’d love to ask you on a proper date... one that I won’t run away on this time”

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m sorry for not actually explaining the situation as I know what it looked like. And yes, I will definitely take you up on that date... that’s if you’ll have a ‘dick’ like me” he jokes

You playfully shove his arm, making you both laugh. You spend the rest of the night with Kuroo in your room catching up on all the things you’ve both missed out on in the time when you were ignoring him.

The date you went on was better than you imagined, Kuroo was definitely a great guy (making you feel even more stupid for assuming differently in the first place.) You developed an amazing relationship with Kuroo, which lead you to eventually become mrs Y/N Kuroo and having Kenma and Kuroo be able to officially call themselves ‘real brothers’

AN: I really actually enjoyed this one, so I hope you do too. <3

[misscarolineshelby]

A New Life

Part Eight: The Kiss

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,082

Warning: Angst, Smut

Original Blogger: @queenshelby

Previous Part

One week later…

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you moaned as you kept your eyes focused on his and continued to rock your hips, slowly working his cock deeper inside of you.

Your eyelids made small fluttering movements as you pulled your hand away from his cock and, with a sigh, you relaxed your leg muscles and slowly let gravity pull you down forcing Cillian’s cock further up inside of you.

‘Fuck, that’s it Love’ Cillian groaned as you began a small slow gentle rocking motion with your hips, back and forth, not even an inch in distance.

You took it all in, the warmth of his skin inside of you and the throbbing of his cock against your walls, while your pussy kept a slow rhythmic sucking, gently squeezing and releasing.

‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Cillian groaned as he raised his hips to drive his cock deeper into you as you pushed yourself down. Your hips were constantly in an agonizingly slow movement, your pussy grasping and releasing his cock while his fingers slid around and against your clit.

‘You feel so damn good’ you moaned as Cillian placed his hands on your hips to pull you down tighter against him and began to force himself even harder and faster into you which is when, all of a sudden, your alarm went off.

Your eyes shot open and you realised that this was nothing but a wet dream, which had become a common occurrence since your night with Cillian.

You woke up, once again, with your panties absolutely drenched and your insides slick with your juices.

This is when you realised that you probably shouldn’t have watched another three episodes of Peaky Blinders last night. Cillian looked absolutely incredible in this show and you were becoming addicted to it.  

With that being the case, you regretted having slept with him and, whilst things were mostly normal between you and no one suspected anything, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

The sex was too amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before and you got along well with him. You were two minds alike and had built a strong connection despite having been intimate with each other.

After stirring for about five more minutes, fantasising about Cillian and his cock inside of you, Max barged through the door of your bedroom, reminding you that you were going to take him to his cousins’ house for a playdate.

Of course, you remembered. Cian was looking after the children while you went shopping with Evelyn and Laura who, since, had apologised to you again and who had just returned from Galway after having worked with Cillian on an UNESCO project.

***

After you dropped off Max, Evelyn and you went to pick up Laura and drove to the local shopping district.

All of you needed clothes for your upcoming hiking trip in Kerry and you were extremely excited about seeing a different side of Ireland.

More so, you were looking forward to be spending three days with Cillian and the others who, unfortunately, also included Laura.

Cillian had a holiday house in Kerry at which you would all be staying and it was him who had invited Max and you along.

***

After buying yourself some boots and a rain jacket, the three of you went into the local lingerie store which sparked some interesting conversations.

You hated Evelyn talking about her sex life as it pertained to your brother as well and, in the same way, you didn’t want to talk about yours when she asked you whether there was someone you liked.

‘Nope…I just like nice lingerie’ you said, trying to justify your purchase as it was obvious to you that this was what she was referring to.

The truth was, you wanted to have some nice lingerie for your trip to Kerry, not because you thought that anything would happen between you and Cillian, but rather, you wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin and nice lingerie usually helped you do this.

But, you weren’t the only one who had purchased some nice lingerie that day. Laura also picked out two sets of raunchy lace underwear and even a pair of suspenders with matching stockings.

Her figure was impeccable and seeing her modelling the pieces she had chosen made you feel a little self-conscious yet again.

‘So…anything else after this kiss?’ Evelyn asked curiously after you had spent half an hour inside the shop, causing Laura to shake her head and smile.

‘I think we should really talk about this in private. No offence Y/N’ Laura then said before changing the topic and you wondered what all of this secretive behaviour was about.

‘None taken’ you chuckled before paying for your lingerie and waiting for Laura and Evelyn to pay for theirs.

***

Whilst you didn’t care much about what Laura was up to after your constant run ins with her, you were curious as to who she got herself involved with after her little stunt at your double date.

You knew that Evelyn was terrible at keeping secrets, so you decided to ask her about it in the car after she had dropped Laura of at her house.

‘What did you talk about at the lingerie store?’ you asked Evelyn on the way home and she wasn’t quite sure what you meant.

‘Do you mean about the kiss?’ Evelyn asked and you nodded.

‘Apparently, Laura and Cillian had a bit of a moment when they were in Galway together a few days ago’ Evelyn explained rather excitedly and you couldn’t help but inhale sharply.

Whilst you shouldn’t care, your heart skipped a beat when you heard that Cillian was the one who Laure got herself involved with. The thought of Cillian being intimate with Laura in any sort of way, even if it was just a kiss, made you sick to your stomach.

‘So, they kissed?’ you sought to clarify and Evelyn nodded.

‘About time really. I think they would make a nice couple, don’t you?’ Evelyn asked, causing you to nod.

‘Sure’ you said, feeling disgusted and upset all at the same time.

Was what he had said to you that night all an act, you wondered? He told you that he doesn’t usually do one-night stands and that he certainly was interested in getting into another relationship.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

new love - spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer tells the team about his new girlfriend, y/n.

warnings: fluff in its purest form.

word count: 1503

notes: IM BACK!!! i know it’s been a little while since i posted anything but i actually had the time (and motivation) to write this and i think it’s rlly cute!!

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

spencer gazed down at you as you slept, adoration filling his eyes.

last night was the first night you had slept over at his place. he wasn’t really against the idea, other than the fact that you’d wake up alone in his bed. he wished he could stay and cuddle you longer, but unfortunately serial killers had a habit of killing innocent people. it was spencer’s duty to prevent that, and well - duty calls.

spencer couldn’t seem to spur his legs into action, the image of you still asleep and curled up under his covers was one too precious to walk away from. you were spread out on your stomach, your hair sprawled out across the pillow underneath your head, your hands softly grasping the comforter.

spencer found himself immensely grateful for his eidetic memory so that he could never forget how adorable you looked.

in lieu of fully rousing you to say goodbye, he decided on placing a kiss on your forehead. the whimper that the small action elicited from you made his heart clench - and made it that much tougher to leave you.

spencer quickly found some spare notepaper and scribbled a note for you encouraging to call or text if you felt lonely, his chicken scratch hardly legible in his haste.

——————————

as he sat on the train that morning, he couldn’t help but realize that everything just seemed so much better now that you were a permanent fixture in spencer’s life. it was as if his life were a coloring page that had suddenly been filled in with the most vibrant of markers - as cliche as that sounds.

the inconveniences that plagued him almost daily now seemed like nothing - for example, the embarrassing half-jog-half-sprint he had to do in order to make it onto the train in time. spencer felt like he had a new outlook on life, and it was all owed to you.

spencer arrived at work, walking into the bullpen with a noticeable pep in his step as he made his way over to his desk. he set down his satchel, only to glance up and find morgan and jj staring at him.

“do i have something on my face?” he frowned, wiping at his face to ensure there was nothing there.

“you didn’t head to the coffee machine straight away,” morgan pointed out, swiveling his chair to face him.

“i, uh, don’t feel like i need it?” spencer’s brows knit in utter confusion at the sudden interrogation he found himself a part of.

“you always get a cup of coffee in the morning, spence, regardless of whether or not we’ve got a case.” jj chimed in.

“and?” he wasn’t quite sure what the point of all this was.

“do you mean to tell us the doctor actually got a decent amount of sleep last night?” derek scoffed.

“i suppose so. is that an issue?” spencer cocked his head, much like a puppy dog.

“no, it’s not an issue at all, it’s just unusual for you.” jj shared a look with morgan, who stood up from his chair to saunter over to the doctor’s desk.

“so who’s the lucky girl, pretty boy?” he grinned.

the heat instantaneously rose to spencer’s cheeks at his words. “wh-what? what girl? i have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“come on, spence, you don’t expect us to realize the way you walked into work with a grin on your face? that hardly ever happens before you’ve gotten any caffeine in you, which - if you’ll remember correctly - you didn’t even have this morning.” jj grinned at the blushing boy.

“come on, that’s no fair! you guys know we’re not supposed to profile each other!” he practically whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ooh, who’s profiling who?” penelope said as she scurried towards the trio. “woah - boy wonder you are glowing. what are you hiding from me?”

before he could stop him from answering, derek spoke. “we think pretty ricky’s got a girlfriend.”

a sudden expression of pure joy made its way onto the analyst’s face as a smile lit up her face. “please, please tell me he’s right!”

spencer weighed his options carefully. the two of you were relatively new, and he didn’t want to spoil anything by telling his friends about you so soon. but on the other hand, every time he’d brought them up, you’d mentioned how much you’d love to meet them all one day. so he figured, what would be the harm in telling them?

“yeah. i do have one. a girlfriend, that is.” he spoke awkwardly.

penelope practically squealed as she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “i’m so happy for you! but spencer reid, how could you hide this from us? but i need to know absolutely every last detail!”

the way she flipped from excitedness to borderline anger left spencer feeling a little frazzled, but nonetheless happy to share. “her name is y/n, and she works in the bookstore downtown. that’s actually where we met.”

“y/n reid really has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” penelope exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

derek noticed how flustered spencer was becoming with all the sudden attention on both him and his love life and opted to pull her back slightly. “alright, let’s reign it in, babygirl. he only just mentioned her, i’m sure they’re not getting hitched any time soon.”

he sent derek a thankful look before continuing. “we’ve only been dating for a month now, i don’t think either of us are ready for that yet,” he laughed nervously.

“what’s she like?” jj asked, perching on the edge of his desk.

“i can’t even - i don’t even have the words to articulate how wonderful she is,” spencer sighed dreamily. “she’s just so kind and loving and funny and so, so beautiful.”

morgan and jj exchanged a knowing look, while penelope looked like a child who had finally gotten the pony she kept asking for.

“y/n’s one lucky girl,” she grinned a toothy grin. “speaking of y/n, when might the lucky lady like to meet us? please tell me she wants to meet us.”

“she actually really wants to meet you guys, she-“ spencer was cut off as garcia whisked him away to arrange a date with the whole team.

before she could get too far, morgan grabbed him by the arm. “seriously kid, i’m happy for you. she seems like she makes you really happy.”

spencer could only offer a quick ‘thanks’ in response before garcia dragged him all the way to her cave to plan.

——————————

“you’re home!” spencer heard you shout as he stepped past the door. he braced for impact as you practically launched yourself into his arms. “how was your day, baby?”

he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as you pulled away. “it was good, just a paperwork day, but i didn’t get much done - except for one thing.”

“and what was that?” you quirked a brow at his odd statement.

“i might’ve told the team about us,” he grew slightly panicked as he noticed the shocked expression on your face. “i-i hope that’s okay with you. i know i didn’t ask, but i-“

you took his hands in yours, gently thumbing over his knuckles. “it’s fine by me, i just wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with it, spence.”

his heart skipped a beat at your thoughtfulness, pressing a kiss to your hands. “i don’t know, i guess in that moment, any doubt in my mind went away. n-not that there was any to begin with!”

you stepped up to place a chaste kiss to his lips, silencing his clarifications. “it’s okay, i think it’s sweet. so, what’d they say?”

“they were really happy for me, and i think garcia nearly burst a blood vessel when i told her.” the two of you giggled. “they kept saying how lucky you were, but i couldn’t help but think that i’m the lucky one.”

“oh they’re absolutely right there. i am the lucky one. how else could i have ended up with such a catch like you?” you smirked at the growing blush on your boyfriend’s cheeks.

“after i told them about you, garcia dragged me away to go plan a date for you to meet them, a-and i told her this friday would be fine, so i hope that’s okay with you.” spencer admitted, looking down at you hopefully.

“spence? are you kidding?” you beamed, clasping your hands together in excitement. “i can hardly wait!” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for your lips to meet.

his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumbing softly over your cheekbone as he smiled into the kiss. when you finally pulled away, you motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen for dinner.

as you practically skipped away, all spencer could think about was how incredibly thrilled he was to have met you. he wondered if maybe his teammates were right: you were both the lucky ones.

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

i LOVE how this turn out and i put a lot of thought into this and actually had some friends read over it before i posted it so i hope u guys love it too 😊

as usual i’m tagging ppl on my taglist & ppl who i think might be interested :)

tags: @sojournmichael @stinkyelf @crazyfore3 @cal-ifornication @eggygorl02 @howdycharlie @eosprincess @mortallythoughtfulgurl @illuxions-x @unlikelyempathpruneauthor @blankets-for-bees @holycandypizza @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @lovelyrdjr @elitereid @minnie-bby @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @fantastic-fans @keomoon @elric8097 @jjtheangel @spacedikut @whoreforthebau @angelbunnyoxo @theonewithcriminalminds @andiebeaword @big-galaxy-chaos @beatleszeppelin @averyhotchner @dreatine @you-sunshine

[bumbleklee]

Hihi! I hope you dont mind this request :3 Could you do a headcannon or oneshot with zhongli, xiao, ganyu, hu tao, and a reader? I have this headcannon they’d be a family in a modern au and it’s ndjddjsjjejsehhwje Or Zhongli ‘creates’ (?) a new adepti and xiao and ganyu help raise them like a little sibling fnfnsdjjdjssj The reader would be the youngest sibling :) Hu Tao as the second youngest Xiao as the middle child Ganyu as the oldest And Zhongli as their dad <3

this is so cute im gonna cry (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) i went with a modern au bc my brain is short circuiting tonight lol. also there's chili near the end because brainrot (was listening to the song “the best day” by tswift while reading these so yktv)

it’s very sfw, just cut for length  

your mother passed away shortly after you were born, leaving you and your three siblings in the care of your father

zhongli was devastated, of course, but knew he needed to be strong for everyone

fortunately, zhongli had a well-paying job so your family never struggled

when you were a freshman in high school, ganyu was already in college so you took over her bedroom that you shared with hu tao

without ganyu around to rope you guys in, life at home was total chaos

hu tao loved to play pranks on you and xiao like putting flour in your blow dryer or turning off the internet connection when xiao was fighting a boss in his favorite video game

xiao, like most teenage boys, often retaliated and it was you who had to pull them apart from killing each other

despite the constant sibling bickering and arguing, the three of you had an unexplainable bond and zhongli’s heart melted when he came home from a rough day at work to find the three of you curled up on the couch watching a movie together

zhongli is the best dad in the entire world

he was a “cool” dad, too

he let your house be the party-house as long as everyone gave him their car keys and slept over

he actually liked looking out his bedroom window to seeing you and your friends having the time of your lives in the pool (his motto: you all deserved to have a fun childhood)

he was very comforting too and his speciality was being able to fit all four kids (teenagers) in his arms at once

if zhongli realized you were upset, he would take you out to spend the day with him, window shopping or eating at your favorite restaurant and ending the day with a snuggle in front of the tv (no matter how old you were)

one time, you and hu tao woke up to an eighteen year-old xiao wrapped up in a blanket next to zhongli on the couch

zhongli has special nicknames for all of you (ganyu is ganny, xiao is kiddo and will always be kiddo, hu tao is princess, and you’re bug)

you’re closest to hu tao

she’s two years older than you and is the only one of your siblings who doesn’t treat you like a baby all the time

she’s definitely the rebellious kid and you know all of her hiding spots for things (you would never snitch on her though)

xiao and ganyu are very protective of you

ganyu just wants you to make smart decisions while xiao threatens anyone who comes near you with a romantic interest

it was annoying at first to have such an overprotective older brother but when your very first relationship ended horribly, you were glad xiao was there to kick their ass and bring you ice cream

when ganyu comes home from college, it’s like a celebration

you and hu tao will run at her and nearly tackle her to the ground in excitement

xiao stands around usually but is always happy she’s home too

birthdays are a big deal in your home

zhongli likes to surprise everyone with “blank days until your birthday” gifts as an excuse to spoil you kids 

he lets you do whatever you want on your birthday too

if you want to go a fancy restaurant, sure. if you want to have a huge birthday party at the house, go for it. if you want to stay in your room all day, alright. his mindset is that it’s one day a year that about you and only you

zhongli is so supportive of you guys

if you’re questioning your gender or sexuality, he’ll listen to you

he’s very progressive and all he wants is for you kids to be happy

when zhongli starts dating a man named childe when you’re sixteen, everyone reacts differently

ganyu is excited, happy her dad finally met someone new after so many years of being alone

xiao is indifferent. at first he’s upset, thinking zhongli is going to forget about their mom, but once he reassures him he’s not, xiao comes around

like ganyu, you’re happy for zhongli. you like childe and you know he makes your dad happy so you’re happy

hu tao, on the other hand, is very against it

anytime zhongli tried to date someone new when she was younger, she had thrown a tantrum and cried for her mom

zhongli, not wanting to make his daughter upset, usually broke off the relationship

but now she was eighteen and she couldn’t really throw a tantrum

so when zhongli told everyone he was dating childe and hu tao ran off to the basement, the three of you followed her

you found out that had similar thoughts to xiao and thought zhongli was dating someone new to replace your mother

it took a lot of coaxing and tears but finally, hu tao came to terms with the situation

surprisingly, she had the best relationship with childe after a while

when you’re graduating high school, zhongli realizes all his babies grew up

(he suffers from empty nest syndrome)

“So, what do you think?” You grinned, watching your siblings and father admire your new dorm room. Ganyu and Hu tao exchanged looks before Ganyu nodded her head proudly. 

“Looks great,” She smiled, “It kind of looks like your bedroom at home.” 

“I thought it would look like a hurricane,” Xiao smirked, earning a playful hit on the upside of his head by his older sister. You heard her mutter an insult under her breath. 

“I think it's quite lovely, Bug,” Zhongli says softly. His hands are twisted behind his back and he won’t make eye contact with you. 

You run your hand under the waterfall lights on the wall, hundreds of photos of your family and friends clipped to the strings. Looking around, you realized you dorm was decorated like your bedroom. You had brought the same comforter and pillows from home and even set up your desk exactly the same. Maybe you weren’t so ready to let go of your childhood, either. 

Zhongli was about to open his mouth when your roommate and their parents walked into the dorm. There was a short exchange of greetings before your siblings filed into the hallway. You knew this was goodbye. 

“You can call me anytime. You know that, right?” Zhongli started, toying with your lampshade. “And if you ever feel homesick and need to-”

“I’ll be okay, dad,” You smiled softly. You embraced your father tightly and he did the same to you. After what felt like hours, but was probably not even a minute, Zhongli pulled away. He gazed you adoringly before kissing your forehead and leaving the dorm. 

Ganyu, who had taken a day off from work to be there, held out of her hand to her father. “Weird, isn’t it?” She asked comfortingly. 

“They’re all grown-up,” He mumbled, “All of my babies are grown up.” 

“Oh, dad,” Hu Tao said. She threw herself at Zhongli, catching him off guard.  “We’ll always be your babies.” 

Zhongli mustered a smile on her lips. He ruffled Hu Tao’s hair. “Yeah,” He agreed, “Let’s go eat.”

[endlich-allein]

Interview with Till about his life: he fought with his father, killed his beloved dog, swam on a wild river and worked on suffering. How Till Lindemann's mind works

"I will finish you off" and why you fought for the German army.

Werner Lindemann wanders around the room, interrupting the silence with strange questions, writing something down. His motive is to get to know his son and make him a friend. But it's complicated. Generational conflict.

"My island of tranquility is shaken every day. The day before yesterday, a guy pulled on my socks because his were torn. Yesterday he didn't put out a single lamp in the house. Now, with voluptuous delight, he spits cherry pits into the cat's fur. Is this grown boy really an adult?"

The apprenticeship in Rostock, where you have to do window production after graduation, is the limit of boredom. Till Lindemann moved to his father in the countryside so that he could forget about the hustle and bustle of the city and not fall under the article for anti-social attitudes. He thought of a new life, in which there was no pointless work, and arranged an attic in his father's house.

In the mornings over coffee, he scolded life that everything went according to schedule. And listened very loudly to music - electronics and metal. My father didn't understand and grumbled: “I matured late. Naturally, I wanted to listen to the music I liked, but I could not get my hands on these records. For example, my father did not understand when I bought the Alice Cooper record for a month's salary.

Werner Lindemann was a children's writer who went through the war.

At the height of his career he disappeared for weeks on literary tours - his fame spread to teachers and librarians across the country. His father pecked at Lindemann for refusing to work and promised to turn him in:

"My willful child. What doesn't fit his standards is rejected as nonsense or crap." So he took a job as a carpenter, where he made shovel cuttings and cart wheels. The head foreman constantly drank vodka during the day, didn't want to be annoyed with questions and addressed the long-haired Lindemann with the nickname: "Mozart!" This suited him.

Werner Lindemann talked about war, hard existence and limitations. For example, about a grenade splinter that remained in his body. Lindemann did not believe in all these stories - but categorically did not accept service, war and murder:

“After that I objected: “I would hide, I would not go to war. Why did you even let yourself be dragged into this? You could have hidden."

And he said: “It didn't work out. They searched for it and it took away."

Then I said: “I would rather go under arrest. Never in my life, I would go to the front line to shoot people. It's against my nature. It would be better if I went to jail."

Much of the time father and son were simply silent, even while watching television.

"He regularly made me feel guilty, to say the least, he placed himself on a pedestal towards me: I shouldn't complain. At your age, I ran barefoot through the stubble, and in my stomach - a potato in a uniform."

The only acceptance is Mike Oldfield's music: "One day my father came to grumble again. At that moment I was listening to Mike Oldfield, and he sat down and said: "That sounds interesting."

For me it was like a quantum leap: my father sits in my room, listens to my music and thinks it was good. Probably because of melancholy. He was sitting in a rocking chair that I made myself - at the time I was working as a carpenter on a farm. I, too, always sat in an armchair, immersed myself in music and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes."

The conflict was intensified by a fight. Lindemann bought a Trabant car, installed speakers in it and tested the sound - loud as usual. “Then my father came and I had to turn off this fucking music. It was kind of loud for him. He was then fiddling around his cases of flowers, and then suddenly the situation escalated. I think he slapped me while I was still in the car.

He leaned toward me and hit me with the back of his hand. I made some bullshit remarks like, "Leave me alone," something like that. That was a provocation to him, and he said: "If you do that again, I'll hit you for real." And I said, "Then you'll get it back. Because you're crazy. Don't you dare to hit me anymore."

And then he hit me with his palm again. He wasn't controlling himself.

He was exalting himself. Instantly he introduced himself as a boxer - he had boxed in the Hitler Youth - and I just... I thought I didn't hit him, I just pushed him away. And then he stood in front of me again, "Come on, I'll finish you, you haven't got a chance!" Somehow. After that, he went up to the attic and threw all my stuff out the window.

It happened over the weekend, my sister was there, a lot of screaming, serious drama. Then I packed my things, put them in the car, went to a friend's house and never went into his house again. At first I lived with this friend, and a week later I bought myself a house in the village."

His father's book is about his son, which the son will only open up after the death of the father.

Lindemann is a late child. He was born when his father was 36. The gap in their relationship was felt in everyday life and perception of the world. Werner Lindemann woke up early in the morning, worked with the circular saw under the windows and did not understand when his son slept until noon after a working week.

Lindemann's parents then lived separately, but kept in touch. Mom worked as a journalist and discussed her texts with his father. "She still lived in Rostock and always came to see him only on weekends. Mostly on Sundays she came back quite early, because she couldn't stand the stress of being with him, either."

In 1988, the book “Mike Oldfield im Schaukelstuhl Notizen eines Vaters" In this book, Lindemann Senior describes the relationship with his son (whom he calls Timm in the book), who settled with him at the age of 18. The book was written in the 80s and laid on the table until the German Democratic Republic and the Federal Republic of Germany were reunited.

Werner Lindemann wanted his son to take up writing too. But this only amused him, although as a child he wrote poetry. At the age of 13, little Till Lindemann and his father were returning home along the bumpy road to Mecklenburg. They talked about career self-determination:

"You should already have thoughts about what you want to become, boy." My answer: "I don't know yet, maybe a fisherman on the high seas."

But immediately, no matter what I said, objections arose: “But then you have to get a certificate of maturity. But then you will be away all the time. But then you won't be able to start a relationship."

There was always a “but”.

At some point it got on my nerves, as usual. And I said: "Worst case scenario, I'll just become a writer.

I still remember how alienated his face became. "And what do you think then, what do I do! It's a very hard job! In fact, it's not even a job, it's a passion. And it's a job that's supposed to be enjoyable."

I said, "I don't know anybody who works with pleasure."

"Yeah, that's the problem. You have to look for a job that gives you pleasure." Then I say again, "But some people never get to choose..." This gigantic discussion happened because I didn't take his profession seriously. At the same time, he was completely lost, funny!"

Lindemann thoughtfully read his father's book, in which he comprehends their relationship, after his death. Faked for hidden anger and indecision. For example, in a situation where their dog Kurt was bitten by a fox. The father was frightened because of rabies: “At the same time, we did not even know whether he was bitten by a fox or not. The father immediately called the huntsman. But I said: no one will enter this courtyard and shoot the dog. I'll do it myself if I really need it. At some point I really had to kill the dog."

Lindemann is not a monster. The animals he fiddled with are an important attribute of childhood. He had an aquarium and hamsters, brought mice and rats home, and was friends with dogs. “Like many children of new buildings, he felt the need for someone alive, in need of love,” said Werner Lindemann. Sometimes the appearance of an animal in the house was surprising:

“This guy will never say what he's up to. He appears on the doorstep at the same time as me. He gets out from his vehicle, throws his coat open and puts a young black shepherd in my hands. "Your Christmas present!"

Till's father is speechless. My son stands before me like the sun's little brother. Touchingly concerned, he directs me into the house, working out a plan for the animal husbandry, accommodation and diet of our new pet housemate.

With confusion, a question flies from my lips, "Wheredid you get the dog from?" "Timm" is gibbering, "Imagine, the mason in the barnyard wanted to hang him, simply wanted to strangle him with a rope, said he was a worthless eater..."

Werner Lindemann died of stomach cancer in 1993, when his son was 30. They didn't finally reconcile, but Till visited him in his last days and was there for him with his mother: "They couldn't be without each other, even though they lived apart. Unreal, but my mother never had another man afterwards. To this day she can't let go of him."

- Not going to the Olympics in Moscow and ending up in the German ghetto

Lindemann had the knowledge and the potential to be a swimmer. And a shyness that pounded harder three days before the competition than concerts in front of crowds of thousands. "I know how difficult it is to develop willpower and stamina and instill those attributes. In the GDR this was instilled in us by coaches and so-called functionaries."

Lindemann came to swimming at the age of eight and devoted his entire youth to the sport. He would get up for training at five in the morning and pass out in the evening. His grandmother watched him from the stands. At a competition in Leipzig she shouted at the coach, who told Lindemann off for a poor result. The grandmother took the coach by the ear and said: "How do you talk to my grandson?"

Sports tightened up his upbringing and developed self-discipline. “Drilling - probably the boy has already received this experience as a swimmer,” Lindemann's father wrote. - Once he had to take second place in a competition, but by no means first place. Of course, he got carried away, forgot about it, became the first, thanks to which he received a shouting for indiscipline. And whenever he lost in the future, his coach would torture him at practice for a long time and yelled at him: "Even if you win, you're not a winner yet!"

Lindemann swam the 1.5 km freestyle and could have gone to the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Everything was ruined when he left the hotel without permission during a competition in Florence: "I didn't want to run, but just wanted to look at the city. Cars, bikes, girls. I was caught and kicked out of the team, but then I didn't give the required results either."

Lindemann competed at the European Junior Championships, but did not go any higher. After the story in Florence, his career in sport slipped away. Perhaps an abdominal injury influenced his departure. Lindemann is gone, but he doesn't yearn: "I was relatively young. There were no good [memories] left. I was glad it was over."

"The hardest part was getting back to normal. I fell into a real hole. My home was no longer a sports school, but a ghetto in Rostock. Now I stood out through drinking and fighting. I used to be surrounded only by beautiful ladies who were interested in swimming. Now I had fierce women standing in front of me asking, "How come you don't drink?" When I was shy about approaching a girl, it was interpreted as: "Are you gay?"

Lindemann now works with a coach and swims a few kilometers before his tours to get in shape: "When I exercise, I feel a certain lightness - not only physically, but also mentally. I just feel better. The main problem is staying in shape. That's where self-discipline comes into play. Teeth grinding is important."

- Three weeks in the wild and loneliness as a creative tool

Emotionally, concerts = sports:

"How do I go on tour? Hungry. And happy. It is good to compare concerts with sport. You don't want to do both at first. You don't want to go on stage. You don't want to go to the pool. You don't want to go to the boxing ring. It all happens with reluctance. It has to be accepted somehow, that's life: spring, summer, fall, winter.

When it's done, winter's gone, the blooming begins, greenery appears, it gets bright, and you start to get a taste for it. When it's over, you feel happy. Then the body produces a sea of chemistry, a lot of happiness hormones. I think the body rewards itself."

The stage, like sports, is an embarrassment, but a necessity. Lindemann wore dark glasses in order to collect fewer views from the audience. Therefore, a couple of steps before the water, he looked at the pool with a shiver. You need to cope with yourself in order to open up to new emotions.

Lindemann's gut requires solitude and moderate solitude. This is the point:

“Loneliness is always good for a creative push - you drink a glass of wine and you feel even shitier. Art is not complete without suffering; art exists to compensate for suffering."

With his friend Joey Kelly, Lindemann spent three weeks on the Yukon River. They paddled through the wilderness in a kayak for eight to 10 hours each and lived in a tent. Lindemann didn't take a tape recorder with him, so he transferred the lyrics wandering in his head on paper.

They were catching inspiration and atmosphere:

"There were times when we wouldn't say a word for hours, but then: look there, look there! It was breathtakingly beautiful. These relatively fast-changing panoramas and skies, layers of clouds, the colors.

Except for a few bears and wolves, it's hard to see anyone else out there, it's exhilarating. Along the way we saw two hunters setting traps. No one else.

I grew up in the countryside, and I have a very strong connection to nature. I love fishing, hunting. It's an archaic experience that I like to revisit over and over again. When I'm in the city for too long, I start to miss it."

To recreate situations in the Yukon, Lindemann and Kelly trained for nine months on the Rhine river in Germany because of its liveliness.

"We went down the Rhine to where the transport ships create huge bow waves. If we hadn't had a coach with us, we probably would have been sunk by the side wave impact already during our first attempt," Lindemann said.

Together with Kelly, he had four sessions with two coaches and swam from Cologne to Koblenz [more than 100 kilometers by car]. Lindemann trained separately each week on the lakes in Mecklenburg. It's both physically challenging and savage identical to being natural.

In 2015, Till started his solo project Lindemann. On the album Skills In Pills, the song Yukon was released, in which the lyrics appeared first, and then the music.

- "My lyrics come from pain rather than desire."

The country boy is big and not much of a talker. That's how the Rammstein members saw him at the start, when they were hanging out at home. "He looked cool, like a big peasant talking one sentence an hour," keyboard player Christian "Flake" Lorenz recalled. - He always had food and vodka. He'd just steal a couple of ducks somewhere and cook them on a tray. And then, frozen like in Sleeping Beauty, there were people lying in corners and on trunks in his house."

Lindemann loves and appreciates home gatherings. This came from my father, who always had guests. “In my opinion, this is the little bit that I inherited from him. Throwing parties and gathering people. Throwing parties and getting people together. He just enjoyed being a good host. The house was always full of guests from Leipzig, from Rostock, foreign guests, even from Kazakhstan.

It was always exciting for him. He stood at the stove, cooked, bought an abundance of wine, and there was always a fire in the garden. At some point he stopped drinking, then he left the party at 21:00 and the whole company continued to feast. And in the morning he got up at four, cleaned and tidied up."

Till Lindemann is about self-digging, overcoming and childish shyness, which is covered by a pumped-up figure of a swimmer. This is how Lindemann decrypts himself:

• “And I really am like a big child - ill-mannered, but harmless. People think that I am always strong, explosive. This is not true. I am sensitive and easily hurt, but in love I am romantic and passionate."

• “At the very beginning, you sit somewhere in a dark room, open a bottle of wine and figure out how to make the lyrics popular with the music. At first you only have a vague idea of ​​what it could be.

And when, three years after recording, mixing, and more mixing, developing the artwork, all this nonsense, then you stand on stage, and what you came up with then really works, when you manage to get 20 thousand people to raise their hands, then you experience incredible sensations."

• “Art is a kind of therapy.

When I feel that something is arising inside me, domineering and is most often dark, I need to give it a way out, otherwise it will simply crush me. So destruction and self-destruction are the two pillars on which my creativity is based.

But everyone chooses this for himself.

• “My lyrics arise from feelings and dreams, but still more from pain than by desire. I often have nightmares, and I wake up at night sweating, as I see terrible bloody scenes in my dreams. My lyrics are a kind of valve for the lava of feelings in my soul.

We are all struggling to hide behind good manners and outward decency, but in fact we are governed by instincts and feelings: hunger, thirst, horror, hatred, the desire for power and sex. Of course, there is also additional energy in us - this is love. Without it, all human feelings would fade away."

- "When you're constantly living someone else's life, it's very hard to get back into your own skin. I like that in principle, but sometimes you start to get confused - are you out of a role or not yet. You're already Till, or you're still a homicidal maniac."

- "I hate the noise. I hate the chatter. I expose myself to it, which is pure masochism. And then I have to protect myself from it. Noise makes you crazy. You die in it."

• “I think there is no God. And if he is and actually allows all the misfortunes on this earth, then he must punish me along with other sufferings. I will not pray to such a god."

This is how the members of Rammstein see Till - flexible and with a split personality:

Guitarist Paul Landers: "Till is so good that when you let him know that his lyrics should go in a different direction, the very next day he brings a new version of the song."

Guitarist Richard Kruspe: “He's a hell of an extreme man. He dives very deeply into situations where I cannot follow him. Everything he does is very extreme; I don't know anyone who does it. "

Drummer Christoph Schneider: "I would not want to be in Till's shoes: his soul is tormented by doubts and contradictions, he is equally a moralist and a monster."

June 1, 2021 - Translate by Lindemann Belgium

[wickedpact]

dear tumblr user crim wickedpact pls write the essay/dissertation about nicky being shakespeare's fair youth (if you have time, ofc!!)

Not To Imply Nicky Was Shakespeare’s Fair Youth But Ive Read The Fair Youth Sonnets & Nicky Was Definitely Shakespeare’s Fair Youth, an essay by me, tumblr user crim wickedpact

background knowledge: our man shakespeare wrote some 120 sonnets about a young man referred to as the Fair Youth during the mid 1590s; there has been some debate among shakespeare enthusiasts whether shakespeare’s interest in the Fair Youth was platonic or romantic (but like. they were definitely romantic). no one knows for sure who the Fair Youth was, but it was definitely nicky and my first and most important piece of evidence regarding this hypothesis is the ‘lmao babe do you remember that guy who had a crush on me?’/ ‘i try not to remember the guy who had a crush on you’ look joe and nicky exchange when Merrick brings up shakespeare during the movie. especially since gina confirmed in a tweet that joe and nicky canonly did know shakespeare

my second piece of evidence is that it just Works (except for a couple small facts like.. the Fair Youth was prolly closer to his 20s than his 30s. and the fact that shakespeare implies that the Fair Youth slept with his mistress at one point. but he doesnt know what hes talking about shhh we IGNORE)

long post under cut

A. The Description Matches

when describing the Fair Youth (who I’ll call the FY from now on), shakespeare says he has a ‘gold complexion’ and ‘beautiful eyes’ and compares him to a ‘summer’s day’. He says the FY has “A woman’s gentle heart" and “An eye more bright than [women’s are], (...) Gilding the object whereupon [they] gazeth”

As much as shakespeare’s perceptions of sexuality and gender are very........  late 1500′s (whoo boy sonnet #20 is a wild ride) ...... the description does match, and also:

  B. The Fair Youth Refused to Get Married

it’s never really said why one way or another (shakespeare assumes it’s because the FY is selfish) but the FY didn’t/wouldn’t take on a wife and have a kid, and this was something that was a real sticker for our man Willy S. because, as he says in his sonnets a million times: beauty doesn’t last forever, but having a child not only passes down the FY’s beauty, but also blesses the woman the FY would have a child with (im not saying shakespeare wanted to bear the FY’s children, but he definitely did)

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

(ie. If you don’t renew yourself/ have children, you deprive the world and deprive a woman from having your child, since what woman out there is so beautiful that she wouldn’t want to bear your child?)

Like.

1.) if nicky is the FY then so many of these poems center around the idea of nicky growing old sometime soon and that must have been pretty funny to Nicky and

2.)  the fact that shakespeare would have been So Desperate for nicky to find a wife must have been the opposite of funny to joe. considering the ease of his and nicky’s relationship and the fact that being gay in late 1500s england was probably not a walk in the park, it is very likely shakespeare wouldn’t have known they were in a committed relationship-- or at least not known how close they actually were. Thus:

  C. The Rival (aka. Joe)

shakespeare mentions having a poetic rival in regards to the FY in several sonnets. In sonnet #21 he talks about how he’s not like Those Other Writers who use grand metaphors to talk about their muses

So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems, With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare,

(ie. I’m not like other poets who, when inspired by a ‘painted beauty’ use heaven and every other beautiful thing on the planet to make a grand comparison to their muse: he specifically lists the sun and moon as examples as well as other beautiful things)

He then goes on to say

And then believe me, my love is as fair As any mother's child, though not so bright As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air:

(ie. my love [the FY] is as beautiful as any other beautiful person, though I wouldn’t compare them to the stars/heavens (which is what he means by the 'gold candles’. those are stars.))

So shakespeare insults poets who compare their subjects to the sun, moon, and stars (amongst other things) and in the comics, Joe does literally exactly that

That man is the stars in my sky, and the sun that lights my days. That man is the moon when I'm lost in darkness, and warmth when I shiver in cold.

shakespeare also goes on to say in the same sonnet “Let them say more that like of hearsay well / I will not praise that purpose not to sell” which is to say ‘let people who like that kind of language use it, I wont because I don’t want anyone else to have the subject of my affections (the FY)’.

(which is a bit of a contradiction regarding his feelings abt the FY getting married, but these sonnets are full of contradictions. shakespeare was a confused dude; man spent the first 100 or so sonnets convinced the FY loved him back only for him to start wondering if the FY ever loved him near the end)

(not to mention Marriage For Love wasnt really.. much of a thing in Ye Olden Times but thats a different conversation. so shakespeare prolly didnt associate marriage with love/competition? anyways)

Shakesy-boo goes on to complain about this rival several times. In #79, he says

Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs thee of, and pays it thee again. He lends thee virtue, and he stole that word From thy behaviour; beauty doth he give, And found it in thy cheek: he can afford No praise to thee, but what in thee doth live.

(ie. everything ‘your poet’ (as the FY apparently favored this unnamed rival) says about you, he takes it from you in the first place. he talks about your virtue, but learned the word from watching your behavior. he calls you beautiful but only discovered beauty by looking at your face. every compliment he gives you he took from you in the first place)

[and, as a smaller example, he also bemoans the fact that people want to paint the FY in #67, saying, “Why should false painting imitate his cheek, / And steal dead seeming of his living hue?”. and yknow. Joe’s an artist.]

And then another example in #86

Was it the proud full sail of [the rival’s] great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?

Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?

(ie. he’s talking about how he’s having difficulty writing abt the FY and is rhetorically asking if ‘the proud sail’ of the rival’s verses was the reason his ‘ripe thoughts’ were killed in their ‘womb’. He then asks (again rhetorically) if it was the rival’s ‘spirit’ (or creativity, maybe) ‘’’‘by spirits taught to write’’’’ that killed his own drive to write. none of the analyses I’ve read really explain what shakespeare means by ‘spirits taught to write’, other than maybe being a joke or reference to something we dont know, but... ‘taught by dead people to write in a way mortal people can’t’ very much sounds like a description of an immortal poet, eh?)

Which brings me to,

  D. Willy Boy Thinks There Are 500 Year Old Writings About the Fair Youth

shakespeare talks about people having written about the FY ‘500 years ago’ from the late 1500s in #59 which......................... would have been around 1100 AD. :thinking face:

Oh that record could with a backward look, Even of five hundred courses of the sun, Show me your image in some antique book, Since mind at first in character was done, That I might see what the old world could say To this composed wonder of your frame;

(ie. Oh if I could look back 500 years and see how you were described in some old books so I could see/reference what people used to write about you)

Which again brings me to,

  E. I’m Not Saying shakespeare Stole From Joe, But:

1.) In #22, shakespeare says this,

For all that beauty that doth cover thee, Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me: 

(ie, your beauty is due to the ‘clothes’ my heart gives you-- probably means something like ‘you’re beautiful because i love you’. goes on to say his heart lives in the FY’s chest, and the FY’s heart lives in shakespeare’s chest)

so: shakespeare tells the FY he has shakespeare’s heart. in comparison, Joe calls nicky ‘my heart’ in the comics...... :thinking face x2:

2.) In #109, shakespeare tells the FY ‘thou art my all’,

For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou, my rose, in it thou art my all.

which rings similar to Joe’s ‘he’s all and he’s more’ as well as (from the comics) ‘he is my everything’

and just saying. joe looks pretty #done the mention of shakespeare.

  F. The last One

Despite shakespeare writing 30+ poems about the FY eventually growing old, the very last poem he writes about/for the FY says,

O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time's fickle glass, his sickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein showest Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self growest. 

(ie. you [the FY] have power over the ‘mirror’ (fickle glass) of time as well as time’s ‘harvesting’ ability (sickle hour) and as you grow older, you remain beautiful while your lovers [shakespeare] wither and grow old)

The transition from ‘get married and have a baby before you get old!!!!’ in #1-20 to talking about the FY’s presence in 500 y/o books in #59 to admitting the FY isn’t growing old in #126 kinda seems to imply shakespeare learning of/about nicky’s immortality at some point, and this last poem is him accepting it.

TLDR: not only does it make perfect sense if nicky was the Fair Youth from the FY sonnets, but it also makes perfect sense if joe was the Rival from the FY sonnets. its canon nothing will convince me otherwise

[nobutfredweasleytho]

YOU JUST DON’T LISTEN(F.W)

Summary: Fred’s ex girlfriend writes him a letter to explain the how him using her wrecked her emotionally.

Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, depressed Y/N, mentions of self doubt, a little swearing, mentions of parents not loving correctly, used reader. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Major thank you to Gabriella @onlyfreds for being an amazing person and encouraging me to write whatever this mess is. I am forever grateful to you

(The font is terrible Im sorry im just getting used to working on tumblr)

Fred Weasley checked the muggle clock on his nightstand. 10:30 AM. His mom will call him for breakfast anytime now. He has been awake for quite some time if he can even count the 30 minutes he tried to sleep but couldn’t, not when every time he tries to close his eyes his mind and eventually dreams are clouded by her. By the last time he looked at her, how devastated she looked, How her face was wet from her tears and her eyes bloodshot red, but the thing Fred will never be able to forget is her voice. How raw and vulnerable she sounded while saying the most horrible thing’s anyone has ever said to him, but he can’t blame her, he has no one to blame but himself because in the end it was he who caused all of this and now its come to bite him in the ass. He hears the door open and his twin brother George enters.

“Mom says breakfast is ready and she wants you downstairs. She says she’ll drag you herself if you don’t show up again today.”

“Tell her I’m not hungry and I’ll come grab a bite later.” I really don’t feel like being surrounded by other people right now. Not in this pathetic state I’m in. Besides it will take me willpower I don’t have to not hex Ron into oblivion.

“Well she will not take no for an answer and I wont either. What’s done is done now and you’ll have to face the world someday so start with your own family because everyone down there is worried sick about you and the least you can do is show your face once in a while so they know you haven’t died of starvation or sleep deprivation.” George has worry written all over him and I’m sure the rest of the family has it too. I feel even more like shit for worrying them.

“Fine. But I come back here if she is mentioned are we clear?”

“We weren’t gonna mention Y/N anyway now lets go moms worried sick for your dumbass.”

Breakfast was going smoothly with Ginny and Ron being exited for Quidditch season, Harry and Bill discussing the unfortunate events of the Triwizard tournament last year, dad asking Hermione about a rubber duck whatever that is, but the most shocking thing is mom asking me and George about the joke shop products. George is doing most of the talking but still the fact that shes even asking is awesome. I was finally feeling peaceful this whole winter break until I heard a hoot outside the window.

“I thought it was Tuesday but since mail is here does it mean its Friday already? Oh how fast time is going.

“No Arthur honey you are right it is Tuesday, Bill or George can one of you see if that owl has the owners name attached to it and bring whatever letter he has here to see who is it for.”

Bill got up from his seat and went to the window next to the countertop to look at the mystery owl. “Do we even know a Y/N Y/L/N?”

The room went quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the owls hoot asking for its treat. Bill seemed not to realise this as he took the letter from the owl, gave him a treat and sent it on its way.

“To Fred Weasley from Y/N Y/L/N… Who’s Y/N is she the girl you’ve been crying over this whole time huh Freddie?” Bill chuckled but I just grabbed the letter. I had no time to even be mad at him because once again my mind fogs up with only her. I couldn’t help but feel relieved and the happiest I felt in a long time. She has forgiven me. Y/N forgave me. That has to be it. Why else would she send me a letter?

“I had a great time with you guys but there’s important matters for me to attend so I have to go to now. Thanks mom the breakfast was amazing as always.” And with that I sprinted towards my room, locked the door and examined the letter in my hands. It was a bunch of them in here. I went to mine and George’s worktable threw some papers that were on top of it to make room for these letters and carefully opened the envelope.

The first thing that I grabbed was a photo. It was a polaroid of me and Y/N on the Gryffindor common room. Happiness filled my heart when I started remembering this night. I looked at the back of the polaroid and surely enough there was a writing on it.

Fred and Yn on the Gryffindor common room at 1 AM the night she turned 17. Listening to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. Picture taken by major 3rd wheel George Weasley.

Tears filled my eyes when I remember this night. It was the night I looked at her the way I always should have. Not as a replacement of someone who didn’t care about me.

The next one was also a polaroid photograph but this one I don’t remember being taken. It’s a picture of Y/N teaching me how to play the guitar. I can make up that we are in her dorm but not more as the picture is taken in black and white. I look at the back and surely this one also has a writing on it but the handwriting doesn’t look familiar at all.

A drunken Y/N accompanied by a even drunker Fred trying to play the guitar in the middle of the night. If I fail my charms exam tomorrow I’m killing you both but right now you two look adorable. Picture taken by Cho Chang.

The third one is an actual letter. I chuckle looking at the handwriting. Always so precise and not even one line out of place. I always thought Y/Ns handwriting always contradicts her hot headed persona but it’s actually really cute. I start reading the letter and my heart stops.

Dear Freddie,

I can only imagine the shock that receiving a letter from me would cause you right now especially after our last conversation.

But I have a lot to get off of my chest and I wont be able to move on if I haven’t said it all. Call me a coward but I was really scared to ask you to meet me so I can say it in person, but maybe that’s what I have always been. A coward. A coward because I get scared when someone wants to enter my life, a coward because I hate trying new things at the expense of failing, a coward because I should be able to confront people who brought darkness and sadness to my life.

But one thing I will admit Fred Weasley is that I wasn’t a coward when It came to loving you. It was the first time that I let someone come into my life and heart the way you did, and it will probably be the last. Throughout our “relationship” if you can even call it that as it was more of you customizing me to be her, to be someone I’m not. But that’s why you even talked to me is it, because I reminded you of her.

The signs were right in front of me and I feel stupid enough not to have seen them. But I guess people are right when they say love is blind. Love is such a funny thing to me as the first time I experienced the right kind of love was through you. But that was me creating stuff in my head. You didn’t love me no, you loved the idea of me. But I loved you. I loved you more than anything or anyone I have ever loved, I loved everything about you. But you just don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone around you. Not George, not your other siblings, not Lee or any of your other friends for that matter, not your professors, but most importantly you don’t listen to me.

You didn’t listen when I told you that the love my parents gave me was only because I reminded them of my brother, the love my old friends back home gave me was one of interest. Everywhere I go no matter who I talk to no one will love me for me. I came to accept that until I met you.

You were funny and crazy and brave and oh so gorgeous. You were basically everything I looked for in… well everything. In a friend or in a partner it doesn’t matter. I thought you saw me for who I am. A broken teenager with issues but that at the end of the day was deserving of love. Oh how wrong I have been but no more wrong than you. You knew this but you just didn’t listen.

That makes us both horrible people now does it. Me who thought you were some kind of savior or some kind of saint and selfishly wrapped myself around your love and you who used me because I remind you of your ex girlfriend who broke your heart. But mine is excused I feel like and yours isn’t.

You would have kept me going for who knows how long just so you can live your imaginations you had for someone else.

Did you think about her the first time we slept together?

Was I not enough for you Freddie?

Was I too clingy too soon?

Is it my hot temper that gets the best of me?

So many questions will be left unanswered on my end because frankly, I never want to speak of you again. Sure I am deprived of love but I will not take it if its not directed directly at me.

I still care about you and will continue to support you and George on whatever you set your mind into. I was waking through Diagon Alley last week and saw this little store with a “for sale” sign. It’s right in the middle of Diagon Alley. I hate how my first thought went that you would have loved it but I seem to do that a lot recently.

I’ll get dressed and think would Fred love this skirt or this shirt.

I start applying lipstick and I’ll think will Fred love this color.

I start eating and I’ll think does this look good enough that Fred would’ve stolen a piece of it when I’m talking to Ginny.

I don’t even know why I am telling you this. How pathetic I’ve become clinging into someone that doesn’t want me.

Anyway I’ve probably bored you enough with my ranting but I wouldn’t have been able to move on unless I said everything that felt heavy on my heart. I also attached some photos I thought you’d like to keep seeing as now you can see yourself with Kayla without having the burden to be near me.

Say hi to your siblings and Harry for me.

Have a nice life,

Y/N

[creweemmaeec11]

Avoiding Love Pt2

Second part! Enjoy!

First part

When the hero awoke the next day, he could hear shuffling in the room. When his eyes finally cracked open, the room was full of sunlight, meaning not only had he slept in late, the villain hadn't disappeared yet, based on the shuffling he heard.

The hero sat up, and saw the villain was leaning back against the table, facing the corkboard on the wall where he had hung up a couple different notes. He was looking better, and must have gotten a shower while the hero was asleep.

"I reached out to a friend who owed me a favor," the villain started conversationally as he continued looking over the corkboard, not sparing the hero a glance, "She just got back to me this morning. I had her hack into the powerplant computer systems and download a map of the building,"

The villain turned, leaning over a large piece of paper the hero hadn't seen before.

"basically the weapon were supposed to find-"

"What are you doing?" The hero interrupted, getting out of bed and taking a few hesitant steps towards the villain.

"What does it look like? Working the job obviously,"

His tone of voice made the hero's stomach suddenly drop. It was casual, though lacked any true emotion. Like a character acting in a play. A front of perfection and control that made the hero want to claw it away because it was just so *fake, fake, fake.*

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it..."

The villain didn't even react to the hero's words, he just hummed in agreement.

"You remember how I said the whole being in love thing was a waste of time? Well, case in point, think about how much time we've wasted over this."

"I-"

"Had supervillain never said anything, had you never found out, we would have probably been ready to get this stupid weapon by tomorrow. I could have just smothered the feelings out with you being none the wiser. Simple."

"Would you really have never told me?" The hero asked quietly.

"Don't ask stupid questions," the villain said flatly.

"But-"

"I'm done. This is why I stopped caring about things in the first place. It only creates problems; more complications, miscalculations and drama that nobody needs,"

The hero felt their heart shatter.

"I mean, I actually put in an effort yesterday!" He snorted indignantly, "do you have any idea how many people I'd willingly do that for? I can count them on own hand, even if you cut off four fingers!"

The hero winced.

The villain sighed, re-grounding himself, "so, you do what you're going to do. I'm going to finish this so I can get paid and go home,"

"Wait-"

"No, I'm not interested in-"

"IM IN LOVE WITH YOU TOO, OKAY!?" The hero blurted out.

The villain stared at them in silence for a few moments, processing what had been said before his face shifted, "and you call me cruel. What do you think your doing? I said to let it go, so what the hell are you trying to accomplish-"

The hero's eyes widened, "no, no! I'm not playing! I mean it!" He pleaded desperately, taking a step closer.

The villain faltered, furrowing his brows in confusion, "why would you..."

"Why do you think I was so hurt?! I found out you felt the same way, and before I could say anything, I found out you pretty much hate the fact you feel that way! But I was a jerk, I know you, I know why you reacted the way you did. You were so sure and afraid of rejection you didn't even want to give me the opportunity to turn you down. Especially when someone else exposes your feelings, I can't even imagine the panic- and I still let my emotions take the lead, even though I knew you weren't trying to hurt me. Instead of showing I was hurt it probably looked like all your worst fears were correct after all and just... I'm sorry, okay?"

The villain blinked, taking a moment to process the information.

"really?"

"Yes! Really I swear. You know me. I'd never lead you on or lie to you like this,"

The villain took a deep breath, irritation draining from his posture, though it was still guarded, "Okay. I'm sorry too, I guess. It was childish to avoid you, especially before even hearing you out," he admitted, earning a smile from the hero, "can we get back to this now?"

"No, not yet," the hero replied, taking another step forward so they were only an arms reach away from the villain, "because your still in your shell,"

"What-"

"I know I hurt you, and it took me months to draw you out of your shell the first time, but please don't block me out again. *please,*" he practically begged.

The villain faltered, a small smile appearing on his face as he relaxed fully, "I thought hero's were supposed to play by the rules," he muttered

The hero looked at him in confusion.

"Puppy eyes is cheating," the villain finished, smiling more as the hero's face lit up.

"Desperate times," the hero replied before jumping forward and wrapping their arms around the villains neck tightly.

The villain froze at first, before melting into the hug. He felt the hero burying their head into his shoulder. The villain rolled his eyes fondly, despite the hero being unable to see it as he began running a hand up and down the hero's back.

They stood like that for a few moments, when suddenly the villain heard a gentle sniffle, and he froze.

"Hey, what-" He began softly, attempting to pull back from the hug to look at the other's face, but the hero's arms just tightened around him, preventing escape from the embrace.

"I was so scared I was going to loose you over this and-" the hero began rambling, burying his head further into the other's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, shhhhh. I'm right here okay? I'm not going anywhere. You won't lose me that easily," the villain reassured, hand traveling up to card through the hero's hair, scratching at his scalp affectionately.

"Besides," he continued after a moment of silence, "we both know you're far too stubborn to let something like that happen anyway,"

The hero snorted, laughing, "yeah, that's true,"

There was another few moments of silence, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"I missed you," The hero muttered, voice dampened by the fabric of the villains top.

"Yeah, me too..." the villain admitted almost sheepishly. He felt the hero squeeze his shoulders slightly in response.

"But as nice as this is..." The villain continued, "We've already pretty much wasted 5 days. We should really-"

"I'm not moving." The hero stated matter-of-factly, "I'm comfy, and I missed you, and you owe me after avoiding me for 3 days,"

It was the villains turn to laugh, "I already said I was sorry darling,"

The hero felt his heart skip a beat.

*Darling*

The nickname had a different ring to it now after their confessions then it did before.

"I know, and you're forgiven, but now you still have to make it up to me sunshine," The hero replied, using his nickname for the villain in some form of revenge.

The hero felt the villan freeze, which was a very satisfying feeling.

"Can I convince you to let go long enough for me to pick out a movie and we can move to the couch?"

"If you're quick and promise we can cuddle while watching it. What happened to wanting to get the job done?"

The villain sighed, "I got a fair bit done this morning so I suppose one more day couldn't hurt,"

*Especially if I get to spend it like this* he thought, looking at the hero in his arms.

The hero pulled back suddenly, keeping his hands on the villains shoulders as he examined the others face in shock.

"What...?" The villain asked in confusion. Suddenly the hero smirked, expression shifting from surprised to amused and almost joyful.

"You didn't mean to say that last part out loud, did you?"

The villain blinked in realization. Oh no.

The hero giggled in delight at the bright red hue the villains face was quickly becoming.

"Sorry..." the villain muttered as he began pulling back fully, only to be stopped by the hero.

"Hey! No-! Don't you dare!" The hero replied with a smile, pulling the villain back closer, "Don't be sorry! That was one of the sweetest things I've ever heard! It just caught me off guard, but I liked it."

The hero grinned, poking the villains chest in a playful and almost accusatory way, "who knew you could be such a softie?"

The villain sputtered, "all I said was I wouldn't mind spending the day like this!"

The hero laughed again.

"Well, you better get used to spending days like this, cuz you're stuck with me now, so," he replied with a smile, causing the villains eyes to snap over to meet his in shock.

"Alright, you find the extra blankets and pillows and pick a movie, and I'll run and go get snacks, how's that sound?" The hero asked, placing a hand on the villains forearm and tilting his head like a curious bird, a quirk the villain would always find adorable.

"Uh yeah," the villain swallowed, trying to get ahold of himself, "sure, that sounds good,"

"Okay, perfect," the hero replied, before suddenly without warning he bounced up on his toes to kiss the villains cheek, gentle and quick.

The villain in question froze, eyes wide as he went statue still. He was fairly certain he also stopped breathing momentarily.

He wasn't the only one who was bright red, though his was certainly worse then the hero who also had a light blush on his cheeks.

"Ok, I'll be right back!" He chirped, before turning and heading out the door.

The villain could only stay frozen where he stood, watching the hero leave with a small dazed smile and look on his face, hand coming up to touch his cheek in disbelief.

He might have to actually thank supervillain after this.

Part 3

Master taglist:

@llamaly  @why-am-i-on-this-website-anyway @literally-just-kirby  @larinzz @sharraus @asrasmysoulmate @kaiwewi @akawrites000 @sunflower1000  @aroacewitchyacademic @aquarelle-sirene  @lbelle0527 @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room  @freefallingup13  @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers  @homosexual-having-tea @friiday-thirteenth @chocomarsgalaxy  @ravenshadow17 @daydreamed-snippets @stankyt0es @jinx1365

[how-evergreen]

The Worst Professor/The Best Girlfriend

Summary: Finals are coming up, and you're running yourself down to avoid the proverbial foot aimed right at your ass. Luckily, your best friend and your girlfriend step in just in time.

A/N: this might be my favorite one ive written so far! im thinking of making a part two - would anyone be interested in that? thanks for the request, @themagnificentmx! this was definitely a fun one to write.

Warnings: Cursing, school-related stress, exhaustion, and as is typical of me, lots of fluff.

"You sure you don't need anything before I go?" Sam asked, looking down at you with worried eyes. You shook your head, forcing a smile.

"All set," you said, pushing him lightly. "Go. Have fun with your TA or whoever."

"She's not my TA, she's my tutor," Sam muttered. "And I will. We're going to that Italian place just off campus."

"The good one or the bad one?"

"Good one." Sam grinned. "I'm not an idiot, I know how to treat a lady."

"Sure thing." You rolled your eyes, focusing back on your textbooks. "Go get 'em, Falcon."

You heard Sam snort at the old nickname originating from his drunken leap off the roof of the Alpha Kappa Phi fraternity house. 

"I'll bring you leftovers?" he offered. 

"I'm good." You glanced at Sam, who was looking at you dubiously. "Dude. I'm fine. Go, you're gonna be late for Brittany."

"Samantha."

"Sam and Samantha?"

"Okay, I'm leaving you now."

"Finally." You laughed as Sam flipped you off over his shoulder. "See you in biochem!"

Sam said nothing, only walking out of the library. You allowed yourself a brief moment to watch him go before turning back to your books, shaking your head.

It was probably eight in the evening, and you'd been in the library since six that morning – just as you had been for the past several days. Finals were fast approaching, and your sadistic Stats professor had even assigned a pre-finals test for the next day that would be worth ten percent of your grade. He'd announced it at the previous class two days ago, leaving you hardly any time to study. Fucker.

The stress was definitely weighing down on you as you attempted to read the textbook on the table. Unfortunately, your body was working against you, vision blurring as the words began to swim.

Frustrated, you dropped your head onto the textbook.

"Fuck," you groaned, before picking your head up quickly to make sure you hadn't disturbed anyone. Luckily, there were no students in your immediate vicinity, and the ones you could see seemed to still be focused. 

"Back to it," you whispered, squinting down at the textbook again. This time, the words remained steady, and though you had to reread the same sentence twice in order for your brain to properly process what it said, you managed to keep going.

After another forty-odd years of trying to finish the same page, you saw someone approaching out of your peripheral vision. When you were able to make out who it was, you felt something inside you grow lighter.

Natasha's hair, pulled back into a neat bun, and the leotard visible beneath her unzipped jacket and jeans both indicated that she had come straight from dance class. She smiled at you as she approached, though it slipped a bit as she met your eyes.

"Nat." You grinned up at her, holding your arms out for a hug. "I missed you."

"You too." Nat pursed her lips but leaned down to hug you regardless, kissing your cheek before taking the seat beside you. "Sam texted me."

"Oh. Oh! Shit." You frowned. "Violation of trust."

"He said you've practically been living here for a week." Despite your relationship still being fairly new, you could see that beneath Natasha's irritated exterior was a whole lot of worry. "Something about a Calculus professor from hell?"

"Stats," you corrected absently. "Pre-finals quiz. He told us Monday, and it's happening tomorrow. Worth ten percent of our grade."

"Pre-finals... what?" Nat's eyebrow twitched. "I see what the 'from hell' part meant."

You puffed out an exhausted sigh. "Yeah."

"So you've spent all day every day in here?" Nat asked, gazing over the notebooks and textbooks scattered across the table.

"Well, no. I went to my classes. And to my dorm when the library closed."

"When's the last time you ate?" Nat asked suspiciously.

"Lunch. Sam brought me the grilled cheese from the cafeteria and a bottle of water."

"Oh." Natasha looked faintly surprised. "Good. And you've slept?"

You didn't say anything to that, looking away. 

"Hey." You felt fingers softly grasp your chin, turning your head to face Natasha. She examined you, eyes soft. "When's the last time you slept? And I mean actually slept, not passed out for an hour."

You sighed, glancing away. "Sunday night."

"Jesus," Nat hissed, letting go of your hand to rub your leg soothingly. "How are you even functioning?"

"Autopilot," you said, shrugging and turning back to your textbook. "I'm okay. Just gotta finish this chapter before the library closes."

"Uh, no." A hand dropped onto the pages, blocking your view and forcing you to look at Natasha. "You're not gonna wear yourself down any more than you already have."

"But the test is tomorrow, and I'm still a little shaky on –"

"No more studying," Nat said gently. "At least for a while. What time is your test tomorrow?"

"Three," you muttered.

"And is this the only concept you're still uncertain about?" You could practically see the gears turning in Natasha's head.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Perfect." She closed the textbook softly. "You're going to take the night off. We're gonna go back to my apartment and order Chinese food and watch that show you like, the one with that one guy, and then we're going to get a full night's sleep."

"But –" you protested.

"And then," Nat said over you, "tomorrow morning, I'm gonna make you breakfast, and you're gonna read this chapter with a fresh mind. Then I'm going to quiz you on the stuff you feel least certain about, and then you're gonna go to your Stats class and ace that quiz. And I'm gonna murder your professor. Does that sound good?"

You laughed a little despite yourself. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

"Good." Natasha kissed your forehead as she stood, collecting your notebook. "Oh, and you should probably tell Sam that you're coming with me. The guy worries."

You grinned, standing up and helping her collect your stuff. "He does. How did I get so lucky to have both the best best friend and the best girlfriend?"

Natasha glanced up at you for a moment before looking away, face going pink. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm amazing." She grinned, sliding the notebooks into your backpack and handing it over. "Come on. Let's get you home."

"Yes, ma'am." You saluted her, reveling in her laughter as you walked together into the night.

[9tzuyu]

dissolve (rewrite)

natasha x reader

note: this was just a huge vent fic idk. these type of fics seem to be the only thing im okay at writing. mistakes are mine as always. but i did proofread, yay!

if you want to read the original (as awful as it is) you can read it here!

wanrings: this heavily revolves around eating disorders.

i’m not tagging anyone because the content isn’t really the lightest to read.

words are used everyday, everywhere – whether to describe something or someone. there’s thousands upon thousands of them.

so you were having a hard time figuring out why you were struggling so much to justify your feelings through the basis of words. it was unnerving, draining and very annoying. your emotions should be simple, right? you were either sad or happy, angry or scared. but there was something more, something unexplainable. saying you felt alone only scratched the surface of the wave of emotion that took over. it was excruciatingly painful, far worse than any physical pain you ever had to endure. and for some reason it seemed to come crashing down at night while natasha slept peacefully. you weren't exactly sure how to express your emotions to the extent you felt them. how else was anyone supposed to understand your pain? they couldn't, not unless they could somehow shift into your body and feel your emotions themselves. but that was merely impossible as such powers do not exist. so you were inevitably stuck with words foreign to your lips. over the years you were deemed unsafe, a hazard, "an accident waiting to happen" you recall one doctor say. everyone’s eyes were on you at all times, monitoring every little movement you made. it was suffocating and at times doing more damage than good.

as an adult now you learned how freeing it could be without the fear of gaining weight or eating a bowl full of rainbow marshmallow cereal. your worth was not defined by your weight.

(at least that's what you believed prior to any relapses.) everything was going well in your life. you were a college graduate working as a psychiatric nurse and you had found love, something your teenage self could only dream of. natasha was by your side through everything. and really, the only downfall in the relationship was that she had to travel a lot for her job. but you were secure enough in your relationship not to worry or decide to call things off. in the end natasha always made up for it when she came back, so you couldn't complain too much. things were going well for you, really, they were. until they weren't. (and you didn't know why.) it happened out of nowhere. work was a little more stressful than usual, but it was nothing you couldn't handle. natasha had been away for three months, only stopping by a few times to check in on you. but again, your wife being away for so long wasn't anything new or worrisome. the two of you had followed the routine of her leaving and coming back more than a thousand times; yet somewhere along the way you lost yourself. food became less of a priority, your hunger decreased drastically, and within the first month you'd lost thirteen pounds. it truly was an accident, slipping into a full blown relapse was never part of the plan. but thirteen pounds lighter you wanted more, to feel small again. you didn't have an answer as to why you became so attached to your eating disorder, but it didn't seem like it would be letting go any time soon. the rate at which you were going natasha would most definitely be able to see a difference; not only on your weight, but in the person you once were. she'd ask what happened and why it happened, poking and prodding for an answer, but you didn't have one. so here you stood in the kitchen of your shared home, a cup of sliced fruit in one hand and your cell phone in the other. you poured the fruit into the bottom of a blender along with a spoonful of yogurt and half a cup of soy milk. another half cup of ice followed suit. while the fruit blended, you shamelessly scrolled through your instagram. there was nothing interesting going on in other people's lives, you didn't even know why you had social media in the first place. it was dumb, and quite frankly you didn't give a shit whether or not sharon went to the beach. the sound of your blender coming to a halt brought your attention back to the real world. you poured your smoothie into your water bottle. the green liquid would be your breakfast and lunch for the day - dinner was still up for debate. a soft sigh left your lips. work was beginning to feel more like a chore and less of something you enjoyed. you were quickly growing tired of it. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and rushed out of the door.

you thought about the irony of working as a psychiatric nurse with an undealt eating disorder telling teenagers how to deal with their own issues. you felt hypocritical to say the least, especially given that all the nasty side effects were starting to make themselves known.

your hair was beginning to thin, small clumps of it already starting to fall out when you tugged a little too hard. bruises could be seen scattered left and right on your body, and you were cold. god you were cold. your fingernails were tinted blue, warmth seemingly too far out of reach. you looked ill, and it didn't go unnoticed by your coworkers.

a few hours into your shift you found yourself sitting behind the nurses station filling out paperwork. lunch had passed and when your coworker, steve, asked if you were going to eat something you lied straight through your teeth, telling him you'd grab something when the patients were eating dinner.

but steve rogers could read you like an open book. he knew you were lying because he already knew what was going on. the signs of an eating disorder were quite obvious when you were a licensed therapist. and despite your futile attempts at hiding it, everyone could tell something wasn't right.

steve played it by ear for weeks until he contacted natasha, but by then you'd already lost a considerable amount of weight. as soon as she heard the news, natasha booked the next flight home. unfortunately for her though, there was only one flight and she would have to wait two and a half weeks before being able to leave.

you didn't know it, but those were the longest two and a half weeks natasha ever had to wait.

– patients were having group therapy, so you could tune them out - not that you should, but it was hard to focus when the only two things you could think about were food and your weight.

the need to lose weight sounded so stereotypical for someone with an eating disorder, but honestly it wasn't about that. it was never about wanting to be thin. you genuinely didn't know why this was happening. the only thing you noticed was how rewarding it felt seeing the number go down, as if for you were good for becoming less. it was addictive. and it didn't help that you based your entire worth on how much you could lose.

the next time you stood up from behind the nurses station steve met you in the the cafeteria. while the patients ate you took occasional sips from your smoothie. the bottle was still full of its contents from the morning. you had completely forgotten to drink it during the day, but you didn't seem to mind it that much.

the surprise touch of steve's hand on your shoulder startled you.

i am gross, you thought. do not do that.

steve caught onto the slight flinch your body produced as a reflex, but he didn't say anything about it.

"you can leave early, boss said so."

he laughed as he saw confusion plaster your face.

"what? no!"

"go home, seriously. we have this handled. you know tony doesn't like being told no."

you bit your lip, puzzled by the sudden request. most people wouldn't mind being sent home early, but all it did for you was give you a level of anxiety reserved for food.

what you didn't know was that natasha was home waiting for your arrival. she came back just short of an hour after you left for work.

while you were gone natasha made a few thorough rounds in the house looking for key signs of your eating disorder. there was bound to be evidence given that you didn't know she was home.

unsurprisingly, natasha found a glass scale beside the counter of the bathroom floor along with empty bottles of laxatives in the trashcan. the food in the fridge had been expired a few days past their date, giving her the indication that you weren't eating as much as you should be. her concern grew even more when she found your food journal on your nightstand. flipping the pages, natasha could see that throughout the moths she'd been gone your calorie intake had decreased significantly.

guilt began to gnaw at the back of her throat.

during the few days natasha stopped by, she hadn't noticed anything wrong with you. but then again she knew most people with eating disorders were very good at hiding them up until the point they were discovered. three days wasn't near enough time for her to catch onto your tricks, not when her mind was still focused on her job.

natasha always listened intently whenever you would talk about your eating disorder, the first time being six months into the relationship on a date you felt like you had ruined.

but talking about it was much different than experiencing it with you, natasha had never done that before up until now. she read nearly every article there was about anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and ednos. sometimes when you were asleep she would watch documentaries on the disorder, always making sure to keep her volume at a low level.

the videos that hurt her the most were the ones teenagers struggling with the simple task of eating food.

(although natasha knew it wasn't that simple.)

it hurt because she knew that was you at some point in time.

upon your arrival, natasha cooked dinner. she wanted to hold onto the one sliver of hope that steve was wrong - that he was just overreacting - but she knew in her heart he was right about his assumption. however, dinner would only confirm what natasha so desperately wanted to deny.

when you walked through the door you were greeted with the overwhelming scent of food. you cringed at the thought of having to eat, but as soon as you looked up to see the redhead who'd been gone for so long your frown was washed away. a wide smile overtook your face and you rushed to jump into natasha's arms.

"i missed you so much," you whispered. "i thought you'd be gone for another few weeks?"

natasha's arms found their way around your waist as your legs wrapped around hers. "what? i can't come home early to surprise my wife?" you giggled in the crook of her neck. she smiled feeling the vibrations against her skin, happy to know that you'd missed her just as much as she missed you.

she sat you down, back facing you, she tended to the food. "you've lost weight," she commented, not missing the sharp inhale of your breath.

"how was work, nat?"

she nodded to herself. yeah, she didn't expect you to be so open on the first try.

"it was fine. dinner's ready, i made your favorite!" natasha threw a smile in your direction as she carried the plates over to the table. she had hoped to see your face light up the way it used to, but seeing the panicked look in your eyes further confirmed your relapse.

if nothing else, natasha wanted you to have a meal before she brought up the conversation.

"great... i love it, thank you nat!" your attempt at being enthusiastic failed miserably and you knew by the look she gave you, she already knew what was going on.

but throughout the meal, and despite the shakiness of your hand as it gripped the metal fork, natasha didn't say anything.

you weren't really sure which was worse; being confronted or knowing the both of you knew what the other was thinking and still not addressing it.

natasha's meal was good, you couldn't lie about that, but each bite you chewed caused the tightening in your chest to constrict further.

now you couldn't be good. or worthy. or deserving.

nat took away your plate when you were halfway through. she knew your limits, and she didn't want to push you too much out of your comfort zone.

"go change, i'll wash our dishes. meet you on the couch?"

you did as you were told, taking as long as you could to do so. except this time was different. you didn't glance in the mirror like you usually did, you chose to fully take in your figure.

what you saw was not what you expected to see. for the first time in months you saw a version of yourself that wasn't twisted and turned to be something you didn't know was real or not.

your skin was dry, hair thinned out beyond your belief, eyes sunken and dark underneath. the revelation gave you an odd feeling – was once again something unexplainable, unjustifiable by words.

good.

that was how you were supposed to feel, right? after all of this time, after the many pounds of protection and warmth lost, you were supposed to feel good.

but you didn't. and you never would.

there was something so surreal about the realization of your own destruction. you were aware now, which meant you had to either take responsibility or choose to lose everything you worked so hard for.

"y/n?"

your wife's voice snapped you out of your gaze and you scrambled to pile your dirty clothes and rush out of the bedroom.

as you made your way into the living room you could feel the intensity of natasha's gaze. any other time you would not mind her green eyes looking at you, but this time around you felt like you were in trouble.

she patted the empty spot next to her, to which you reluctantly joined. but even after everything you still tried to play it cool.

"what's up? is everything okay?"

she gave a low chuckle, "you tell me."

"what do you mean?"

"oh i think you know what i mean."

natasha’s reply was met with the loudest silence you ever had to sit through.

she bit her lip, "you know i got a call from steve a few weeks ago. he's concerned about you, and from what he's told me so am i."

you were quick to respond, automatically knowing what steve’s phone call was about. "i'm fine. so what if i've lost a couple of pounds? that doesn't automatically mean that im relapsing, natasha."

your quick snap reminded natasha that this kind of confrontation was like walking on eggshells.

she tilted her head, licking her lips. "i'm here with you, always." nat put a hand to the side of your face, gently rubbing her thumb at the top of your cheekbone. "i'm here."

it seemed pointless now to try and say anything because your secret was already out.

your mind began racing back and forth.

you wanted to keep what you knew best and natasha understood that. even by reading your body language she knew what you were debating.

"you know, to keep it you have to give it away." your eyes darted to meet hers. "mhm. you can still have that piece of you. mourn it, grieve it, do whatever you need to do to move onto a stage where it doesn't hurt you. and from there you can help other people, share your experience, let yourself heal by helping others."

she paused, “we all have choices. some of those choices are taken from you while others leave you with only one option.”

although what she said seemed to resonate with you, there was one thing still holding you back.

"i just want to be good."

natasha hummed. you had explained it to her in the past, though your words were jumbled together as you tried to describe it.

"you can be good in other ways. you're allowed to live a life outside of the barriers your eating disorder puts in the way."

you swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. "i don't even know how it got to this point. in january i enjoyed ihop and dennys. in february i could have oatmeal and bananas, sometimes half of a sandwhich if i was feeling brave. now it’s march and i only eat one or two things a day. the idea of having a full meal makes me want to cry. and i just- i don't know how to stop."

natasha wouldn't show it, but your words cut through her heart like a knife. her mind wandered briefly to all the teenagers in the documentaries she'd watched, hoping you weren't too far gone into your eating disorder to ever come back. those cases scared her the most.

"you've got my complete support. you've tackled this before, maybe this time you can beat it? i know its easier to abuse your body instead of growing comfortable in it, but i think you’ve got this. i know you do."

"what about your work?" your question caused natasha to frown. "you think i wouldn't set my job aside for you?" you shrugged, it's not like you felt like you were worth being taken care of anyway.

natasha grew hesitant to tell you her news, but did it anyway because she’d rather you hate her than see you dead. "i've already made some appointments for you. the first one is tomorrow morning."

"i figured you would natasha. it's okay."

you spaced yourself out the rest of the day. each time you made the executive decision to recover, whether that be a genuine recovery or not, the process never failed to remind you that even trying to recover from an eating disorder felt like mourning the loss of a friend who was never good for you in the first place.