#i’m trying to get myself to do homework but i think the better thing for me rn is to just cry these feelings out so i can feel better

[mochiwrites]

blegh

[yellowsubiesdance]

i’m feeling really lonely right now, and it’s bumming me out

[cremedensada]

I’m gonna need general hcs on interactions with the boy next door… like what if we just moved to town and we first meet him as we’re moving in… Also can they be in like highschool? I don’t know if that’s already the gist but yeah. She’s moving in with her mom and he’s there…

Yandere Boy Next Door

sorry anon i think i went way to far away from what you wanted shdhdh also theyre senior high school students (grade 11 - 12) which is like, two preparatory years for college. so theyre adults bc im much more comfortable with that :33

btw his name is lukas !! he's named now

male yandere + gender neutral darling/reader

lukas is easily approachable - he's got that warmth about him that just draws people in. it's all practiced to maintain his popularity though.

he's also a huge people-pleaser, despite the fact he easily gets burnt out and has his social battery drained.

so when his mom asked him to be a dear and help the new neighbor's kid on their way around the school + neighborhood, he just couldn't say no

sure he's tired, possibly close to having another breakdown just thinking about being pestered by fellow students for answers to homeworks and other menial stuff, but he still manages to say yes and give her another perfectly practiced smile

when he goes over to the house next to theirs - the ones you moved in to, you had no lasting impression on him

now, don't be mistaken, he does think you're good looking but at the end of the day he'd much rather curl up in bed and sleep

so he puts up that perfectly crafted persona and invites you to head to school with him. a new environment is much easier to deal with when you're not dealing with it by yourself! (or something like that)

he tries not to be overbearing, trying to get you to open up while also making sure he's respecting your boundaries and comfort as you made your way inside the school gates

you don't share the same classes, so he asks you for your time table so he knows your schedule

he hopes he's not being creepy or anything, he's just making sure your first day transferring here goes well

sure he's known for being a caring person in general but he does feel like it's his responsibility to make sure you're doing well you know? you're neighbors now, you guys should get along!

it's smooth sailing until it's time you guys finally went home

like that morning, he waits for you and invites you to walk home with him to familiarize with the shortcuts and local lounging spots for students

all the while he tries to get you to talk about your experience today

it must be due to the amount of stress piled up on his plate that lead him to feel... nervous.

his perfect persona cracking as his calm demeanour and collected way of talking slowly devolved into nervous tangents talking about anything at all

were you displeased? his perfection was practiced and polished since he was a kid, was it still not enough for you?

he could handle disappointing people a lot better now but paired with his currently leaning towards unstable, your displeasure is something that's slowly tearing him from the inside

he's jolted out of his thoughts when you suddenly speak up.

"thanks for showing me around. i thought i was going to struggle getting used to things all by myself."

you smiled up at him. "so... yeah. you're... okay."

his heart thumped.

everywhere all around him feels a ton of degrees warmer.

"...okay." lukas was tongue tied.

on the remainder of the journey back home, he walked you to your house, ensuring you got inside safely before making a beeline towards their house and into his room.

normally at this hour he'd be passed out in bed, tired after a whole day of pretending and smiling. today was perhaps the first time he didn't go to bed with his cheeks hurting and aching from smiling so much.

laying in bed, making an excuse as to why he's not going to be joining for dinner, just thinking about you and your words.

lukas grew up living to the standards of being perfect. a perfect son. a perfect student. a perfect friend.

anything less is... unacceptable to say the least. when you do or think of something so often in your day to day life, it becomes a habit. and lukas' habit is perfection.

but you thought he was okay.

okay.

suddenly 'okay' sounds much better than being perfect.

suddenly your opinion towards him becomes much more important than anyone else's.

lukas is a people pleaser, and onwards from that moment, the only 'people' he will ever want to please is you.

i hope this is sufficient? i'm actually v sleepy rn lol but thank you for the idea!

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 24

part 1, prev part

“Oh, come on, Maria,” Eddie yells at the TV. Having fallen victim to the soap operas that run nonstop. “If you stopped sleeping with your sister’s husband, maybe she wouldn’t hate you anymore.”

Dustin snorts, finishing up his math homework. Struggling to balance his notebook over his knee. But it was worth it to spend time with Eddie. Eddie who is awake and making progress. So fast that he might actually get out of the hospital in a week or two. Have physical therapy for a while and then be back to himself.

Then everything can really start to feel like normal again.

Steve finally gets there after work. Looking alive and awake instead of drained.

He laughs when he realizes what Eddie’s watching. “Maria still sleeping with Logan?”

“Yes,” Eddie exclaims. “Like what is she thinking?”

“I’m not sure any of these people have actual brain cells,” Steve snorts when he sits next to Dustin. Eddie starting to fill in the storyline Steve has missed in the past few days.

Dustin laughs while trying to get some of his biology homework done. The test is next week and he wants to do well. Wants to prove that he’s still able to get an A after everything. That the one thing he’s prided on isn’t permanently ruined.

There’s a slight rustle as Eddie flips the blankets off of him. And again as he starts to move, slipping one leg after the other off the side of the bed. He isn’t trying to stand. He couldn’t possibly think that’s a good idea.

“What’re you doing?” Steve asks, beating Dustin to the punch. Trying to hide the concern in his voice.

“Going to the bathroom.” Eddie braces his hands on the edge of the bed, ready to try and stand.

Steve shifts to the edge of his seat. “Do you need help? I can call a nurse or something.”

“I think I can use the bathroom by myself, Harrington,” Eddie snaps. Tension rising in his voice.

He pushes himself up, arms shaking as they take on his full weight. His legs extend to a standing position. Causing his full body to shake like his arms. Struggling to keep himself upright. To hold any weight at all.

“See,” he says, voice laced with pain. One hand gripping the handrail, shaking more than the rest of his limbs. Holding most of his weight. “Perfectly capable.”

Dustin can’t help but stare helplessly as Eddie takes his hand off the rail. Tries to step forward, but his legs succumb to the weight. As he falls forward, right into Steve. Steve who stood as soon as the fall started and put himself between Eddie and the floor. Creating a much softer collision.

Steve’s hands grip under Eddie’s armpits, holding him upright. While Eddie’s knees give out and he slides to the floor. Soft and controlled by Steve. A choked sob erupts from Eddie’s throat as he swears.

“Hey,” Steve tries to soothe, “hey, it’s ok. We can get you to the bathroom.”

“Nothing is fucking ok,” Eddie says defeated. Sitting on the floor with his legs splayed behind him. Hands coming up to bat Steve’s hands away. Eyes mirroring the lost, fearful look he had back at the boat house. Glossing over with tears too tired to be shed, but waiting just in case.

Steve looks to Dustin for help, not sure where to go from here. He doesn’t know Eddie like Dustin does.

Dustin shoves his homework off to the side. Sliding off his chair and onto the floor. Filling the space that Steve leaves when he slides over. Still keeping a stabilizing hand on Eddie’s shoulder, but letting Dustin take lead.

“It might not be,” Dustin starts, not sure if it’s in the right spot. “Things might not be ok. And they might not be ok for a little while. But what matters is that you’re awake. You’re getting better, and it takes time and that sucks.”

“I can’t even lift a fucking spoon without getting exhausted,” Eddie interrupts. “I can barely sit up by myself. I used to be able to do so much, and now I’m stuck in this body that I don’t even know how to control anymore.” Eddie takes a shaky breath through his teeth. Exhaling it sharply before taking another. Chest heaving. “And everything, everything, hurts. So much. All of the time and it never stops. I wake up and it hurts, I can’t sleep because it hurts. I’m so tired of it all.”

His head hits the side of the bed as he lets out a breath. Hands shaking as they come to press at his eyes. The tremble traveling down all the way back to his shoulder. Dustin never noticed the severity of it before.

“I know you are, I can’t imagine that you’re not. And if I were in your place, I’d be just as frustrated. But there’s going to be a day where the pain gets better. As your body heals and you learn how to control it again.”

Dustin takes a deep breath, trying to find a way to verbalize the thoughts in his head. To find any way to make Eddie feel better. Coming to the conclusion that there isn’t one answer to this. No one thing that will make the pain subside, or to completely take Eddie’s mind off of it.

But his friend is near tears on the floor of a hospital shaking in pain. Muscles so weak that they can barely hold their own weight. Time spent recovering that he will never get back. Leaving him with unimaginable pain, and memories that are only adding to it all. Maybe things he can’t even remember.

All Dustin can do is try. The same way that Eddie wakes up and tries to get better. The way Steve finds way to make his migraines more manageable. The way that Wayne can step into the hospital day after day before going to work. And the way that Max is learning how to navigate life again.

The way they have all adapted to circumstances thrust upon them than none ever believed could happen. All they all can do is try to make tomorrow better than yesterday. Understanding that there will be times it becomes a little bit worse, and then has to get better all over again. This merry-go-round of healing that none of them have perfected. But try to.

“You will get better, Eddie.”

Eddie huffs. “And if I don’t.”

“You will,” Steve cuts in. “I know cause I did. The bites healed, my head got better. Not without leaving their own unique scars. But you get used to it after a while. The pain, it’s still there, just sometimes isn’t as loud.”

“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and feel like they’re still biting me.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah, phantom pains are a bitch. Wait until they start itching like crazy. They’ll give you a cream for it, it doesn’t help.”

Eddie lets out a sarcastic victorious sound. “Help me get back on the bed, please.”

His voice sounds so defeated it hurts. Dustin doesn’t say anything about it though. Knowing what it took just to ask for help. Not needing to make this more difficult that it actually was.

They get Eddie back into the bed. Watching as he falls into the mattres, seeing almost immediate relief. They call a nurse in, see a glimpse into Eddie’s life while they’re not there. What life has been like for him.

What it will be like for him. For who knows how long.

“Your head,” Eddie says after a long break of silence. The question directed at Steve. “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with it.”

Steve nods, gently. “I’ve had about four concussions in my life. Two really severe ones and then two other’s that did not compare. But I get migraines, real bad ones. And there’s this ringing in my right ear that just won’t quit sometimes.”

“Shit, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. The migraines get so bad I can barely get out of bed. Barely eat anything. Robin has to come over at feed me smoothies or water so I don’t dehydrate.”

Dustin just sits there and watches as they talk about it. Their pain. Not understanding the full depths of it. The complexities that come only with experience. But he watches as Eddie calms down, knowing that he’s not alone in this. That someone else can understand even a crumb of what he’s going through. Steve looking relieved to finally tell someone else what he’s been going through. To have another person understand.

Eddie eventually falls asleep. Listening to some story Steve thought of to change the subject. To help get Eddie’s mind in a place outside of the hospital. It’s so peaceful when the hospital quiets down as the hours go by. Dustin used to find it excruciating. Now he knows that it means people are at some sort of peace.

Something everyone could use, even for a short period of time.

“You did good in there,” Steve says as they finally leave. “I didn’t really know what to do, but I think you calmed him down a bit.”

“I just hate seeing him like that.”

“I do too.” Steve puts his hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “But he’ll get better, just like you said. It will take a long time, and he might never get back to the place he was before. But he will get better. You’re helping to remind him of that.”

Better isn’t perfect. But it’s good. And good is better than bad. Dustin can take the better this time. Knowing that it will never be perfect, but it will be enough.

next part

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@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[princessamericachavez]

There’s really not much to talk about after Chris brings up Shannon. Buck wants to say something more, to ease the kid’s pain, to reassure him that people who love him won’t always leave, but he’s still a little shaky on that department himself and doesn’t want to be hypocritical about it. So they deflect, change the subject, and a couple minutes later he lets Chris to his homework.

Eddie, of course, was listening. Buck knows. He almost expects to find him waiting by the door as he steps out of the room, but he’s not in the hallway, or in his room. Finally, he finds his best friend standing in the kitchen with a sour look and two unopened beers.

Buck opens one beer with another (a trick he’s used many times to impress dates) and settles for a bottle opener for the second one. Eddie accepts the drink and all but collapses on a seat by the kitchen island.

“He’s mad at her,” Eddie whispers into the bottle’s neck after two long gulps.

Buck tries desperately to find words of comfort but fails once more. His eyes fixate in his own hands instead. Waiting.

“I- I was so angry, too, but I thought maybe he could… I thought I could protect him from it.”

“You’ve done so much for him, for her,” Buck offers. “You’ve kept her memory alive.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It’s better than the alternative, trust me,” he says, thinking of the brother he only just started mourning. “Christopher loves his mom, and he knows she loved him. Even if… if the other stuff hurts, it was also part of her.”

“I don’t want him to judge her harshly.”

“Maybe you couldn’t help it.”

Eddie’s eyes snap towards him, pinning him with something defensive that could be mistaken for anger. But Buck doesn’t let himself flinch away.

“Eddie, Shannon was a person. A whole person. With her… mistakes, too. You can’t really love someone who is just a pretty picture. Chris can’t think his mom was just… just a perfect mom. She was more than that, the way you are more than a perfect dad.”

“In far from perfect,” Eddie scoffs, shaking his head.

“Not arguing with you there,” Buck huffs, teasingly, hoping to ease the tension. “But you’re a pretty damn good one, and you’re doing your best. And that’s what Chris knows, and that’s why he loves you.”

“Shannon was trying her best too.”

“I know. And… I think Chris knows it too. But he also gets to be a little angry about the not so perfect parts.”

Eddie puts the beer down. For an instant, like a flash, Buck is afraid of having pushed too far. Even with all the years and the trust between them, he will never truly shake the fear of one day crossing a line he can’t walk back and lose his best friend like everyone else in his life. But he has grown enough to not let that fear hold him back. Not with Eddie. Never with him.

“I’m kinda lost here, Buck. I feel like I screwed up somehow.”

“You didn’t.”

“How do I fix it.”

“You taught me that’s not always the answer, Eds.”

But Eddie looks at him with those big pleading eyes and, dammit, Buck wants to help him fix this too.

“Okay, so… if Chris was mad at you, what would you do?”

“Give him some time to cool off,” Eddie replies almost immediately. “Then try to talk to him, explain myself, see each other’s side of things.”

“Right,” Buck frowns. “Though I guess that’s…. Not a possibility with Shannon.”

“No,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face, “it’s not. Unless-“

His gesture freezes. He’s had an idea.

“Oh, Buck you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

“Yes! No. Yes… I- okay I think I have an idea. Maybe. I gotta think about it.”

Buck is eager to know the plan, but the way Eddie’s words are bouncing around it makes him feel like it’s a complicated topic. Or at least one his friend isn’t ready to voice yet.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of some help. Since my attempts at keeping Chris from turning into a little Buck 1.0 kinda failed,” he offers instead, as a change of topic.

It works. Eddie startles with a laugh that makes the kitchen feel five times lighter.

“You did alright, Buck. I really appreciate your help.”

And he means it. Buck can tell by the way their eyes meet, with an electric intensity, like they did before at the changing room. The ghost of Eddie’s hand on his shoulder lingers like static over his collarbone.

“Maybe you can ask Marisol to try next. You know, get some female wisdom in there.”

Buck doesn’t know why he says it, wants to kick himself in the teeth immediately, but then Eddie’s reaction fills him with relief. He looks appalled by the idea. Buck tries not to think too hard about why that reactions feels so good, tells himself not to let it go to his head.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he laughs nervously. “I mean, she’s great! But I don’t think we are there yet.”

Yet. Yet, yet, yet. Not yet, but some day. Soon, probably. Buck has been quietly living with that dread for weeks now. Knowing his days of… this are counted. That some day, soon, Eddie will have someone else to rely on for this. That the day is approaching when Eddie will sit him down to talk about his will again, to let him know he’s changed it all over again. For a better choice. A more permanent one.

“Better not to rush into things this time,” Eddie keeps talking.

“Right. Yeah. Yeah… no rush,” Buck barely remembers to smile.

Eddie sighs, takes a sip. Buck mirrors him.

“So, anyway,” Eddie stretches on his chair, “you got time?”

Barely enough.

“Always.”

As much as he has left.

“Cool,” Eddie smiles, “because I do believe I promised Chinese in exchange for this.”

“Really, Eddie, it was no favor. You know I’m happy to help with Chris.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes, standing up. “Just bare with me, okay? Will make me feel less like a failure tonight.”

“You’re not a failure, Eddie. Don’t say that.”

Eddie pauses on his way out. Puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Buck. Seriously.”

The touch is almost as electric as lightning. Buck ducks his head, feeling his heart stop and restart all over again.

“Anytime, Eddie. Now, about that Chinese…”

“Right, Chinese,” Eddie perks up. “Your usual?”

[watarfallar]

Desert snacks anyone?

Scar: You know, you were right. Grian: About what specifically? Because I’m right about a lot of things.

Scar: So Grian, how did your first time cooking dinner go? Grian: Pretty good if I do say so myself. Scar: Oo! Okay, what are we having? Grian: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato. Scar: A whole potato? Grian: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches! Scar: These just look like big slabs of black. Grian: Because that's what they are! Grian: And then for desert, we have chocolate. Scar: These are just chocolate chips? Grian: They sure are! Grian: And then for drinks, we have toast! Grian: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite!

Scar: Can you keep a secret? Grian: Well, I'm good until I meet the next person.

*Scar and Grian are planning to break in somewhere* Scar: We need to distract the guards. Grian: Right. Scar: What are we gonna do? Grian: I'm gonna break their elbows while you poke their eyes. Scar: Grian: Scar: Deal.

Grian: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed. Scar: But you do know better.

Grian: I wonder who’s ruining my life. Grian: *looks in the mirror* Grian: So we meet again.

Scar: The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was changing their name to Grian.

Scar: What is the most illegal thing you can do with one gold? Grian: Exchange it for a hundred copper, put them all in a sock, and then beat someone to death with it.

Scar: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL- Grian: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!

Grian: If I stay in bed I'll be warm. If I get in the shower, I'll also be warm. But the distance between the bed and shower? No. That is not warm.

Grian: A fistfight CAN be romantic. (<-NO BUT THIS IS LITERALLY JUST THE CACTUS FIGHT-)

Scar: Why are you like this?? Grian: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

Scar: Are you coming to bed? Grian: I can't. This is important. Scar: What? Grian: Someone is wrong on the internet.

Scar: Just say when. Grian: When. Scar: I- Scar: Now or later? Grian: Oh.

Grian: So what are your political beliefs? Scar, awkwardly trying to impress them: Well, I think Pikachu would be a lot more powerful if he had a gun.

Scar: Kill me nowwwww. Grian: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

Scar: Everything’s fine, Grian. Grian: Scar, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Scar: I'd make fun of your height but there isn't enough to make fun of.

Scar: If by any chance Grian should attack, just start calmly talking about anything.

Grian: I love saying 'fuck me' because it can either be sexual or self-loathing and those are two things that describe me perfectly.

Grian, making a cup of tea: Yeah, get into that leaf juice, you sexy, sexy bee sauce. Scar: Hey, do you take constructive criticism? Grian: I absolutely fucking do not.

Grian: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve!

Scar, shooing Grian away: Can you go be depressed over there? You’re bumming out my whole area.

Scar: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers. Grian: Scar, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.

Grian: No problemo! Grian, internally: But it was all problemo.

Grian: I want a trip down memory lane. Scar: *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in Grian's lap* Scar: I heard you needed these? Grian: YES! ALL OF THEM!

[atlantic-riona]

Though I Walk Through the Valley

Written for @inklings-challenge 2024. A Catholic college student and a vampire take a trip to the Underworld. Shenanigans ensue. There are four parts.

I. A Visitor of the Vampiric Variety

I opened the door to find Malachy standing on the steps, one hand raised to knock. He looked about as surprised to see me as I was him, and after a few moments spent staring blankly at each other—vague remnants of thoughts regarding grocery lists and the possibility of afternoon naps still floating about my mind, Lord only knows what was circling his—he pulled himself together to give me a strained imitation of his usual annoying smirk. “Fancy a trip to Hell?”

I slammed the door in his face.

Honestly, upon later reflection, I should have left it like that. I still had no intention of getting mixed up in his world, even if Isa—well. My best friend and I were cautiously on speaking terms now, but the argument we’d had loomed forbiddingly in the background of every interaction, even though by silent, mutual agreement we didn’t acknowledge it.

But curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the door again, just a crack. “What.”

In the twilight shadows of evening, his slightly ominous expression would have sent shivers down any onlooker’s spine. Here in the warm afternoon sun, it merely looked out of place. “There’s a problem.”

“Yes, it’s called an irritating vampire refusing to get off my doorstep,” I retorted. “Was there something new, or…?”

“The Circle,” he said simply, and my blood ran cold.

“Goodbye,” I said, and shut the door firmly. I could hear him calling me through the door about needing my help, but I ignored this. And when I heard the windows rattling, I picked up my spray bottle, helpfully labeled “HOLY WATER,” and pointed it meaningfully (label side facing the window) in his general direction. He got the hint. At least I assumed he did, because the windows stopped rattling soon after.

Still, just in case, I went around the house, double-checking that all the windows and doors had crosses nailed above them, or rosaries wrapped around their handles. Call me paranoid, but I’d seen a lot of movies, and I was taking no chances.

I didn’t see Malachy for three days. And good riddance, said I. So when he showed up at my doorstep, looking inordinately pleased with himself, I certainly was not pleased myself.

I leaned against the door, which was open just a crack, and said clearly, “Go away.”

“Lili, you’ll want to hear this,” he said, grinning. Somehow he’d recovered his equanimity in the past three days, and I didn’t think it was for any reason I’d like.

The grin annoyed me. I pointed at the miniscule amount of space between the door and its frame, and said, “You see this? It’s about how much interest I have in whatever you’re about to say. And it’s only open so you can hear me tell you to go away, which means realistically my interest is much lower.” I had briefly considered shouting at him through the closed door, but regretfully had set that plan aside. I didn’t want him trying to crawl through the windows again.

“It’s about Isa,” he said. 

Through the opening, I gave him the old stinkeye.

He laughed. “Charming as ever, I see.”

“Did Isa send you?” I asked coldly, and not without a little pointedness.

His composure slipped a fraction. “No,” he admitted after a long minute. “I’m here without her knowing.”

I knew I’d regret this, but I still unhooked the chain and pulled it all the way open. “What is it, then?”

I had forgotten the secondary reason for keeping the door mostly closed, but it quickly sprang to mind when Theresa’s excited shriek from the living room deafened me. “Is that Malachy?”

“No,” I yelled back. “Go do your homework!”

But it was a fruitless endeavor to tell your little sister to do something as dull as solving for x when there was a live, breathing—well, dead and unbreathing—vampire at the front door, and it was doubly fruitless when said little sister had been obsessed with all things supernatural (especially the fanged variety) for years. Theresa came sprinting out of the living room, vaulting an armchair in her enthusiasm and skidding to a stop in her pink-and-white polka-dotted socks. “Malachy!” she cried happily. “Come in, come in, I have so many questions!” She’d already nabbed a clipboard from somewhere and was now squinting through her glasses to locate a pen.

As the point I wanted to make was already moot—namely, that inviting vampires into your house traditionally never ended well—I settled for giving Malachy a stare of loathing as I removed the cross hanging over the door, before stepping out of his way. He, in turn, gave me a brilliant smile, one that prominently displayed his sharp white teeth, before stepping inside.

He clearly thought Theresa was cute, but easily brushed aside, since immediately after greeting her with amusement, he turned to me, as if to continue our earlier conversation. How quickly he’d forgotten! I didn’t feel motivated to disabuse him of his misunderstanding, so I merely settled back, arms crossed, to watch the show.

“You remember how we found out that Isa’s condition is because she’s a descendant of—” he began, but broke off with a startled look when Theresa briskly pinched his arm through the leather jacket he was wearing. “What the hell?”

“Language!” I hissed.

Theresa ignored the both of us, scribbling something down on her clipboard. “So you’ve got pain receptors,” she said, clicking her tongue thoughtfully. “Which means your brain is capable of receiving and translating signals, even though it’s technically not alive, according to my research. Or is it alive? Does the blood you consume reanimate your life systems? Is that why you need to constantly replenish it?” She looked up inquiringly through the bright pink frames of her glasses at Malachy, who stared at her.

“Er—yes. I do need blood to…operate, as it were.” For the first time in my memory, he seemed discomfited.

Theresa nodded. “Right, blood’s very important to staying alive and operational, but it’s not really the only thing you need. How about oxygen? Do you need to breathe?”

He blinked at her, and then at me. Like I was going to rescue him from his flailing. I was enjoying myself too much. “To speak, mostly. And habit. I don’t actually require it.”

“Interesting.” Theresa scribbled something furiously on the clipboard, elbowing me when I tried to peer over her shoulder at what she’d written. “Then I wonder how you’re accomplishing cellular respiration. Of course, blood transports oxygen, so I thought that might be why vampires needed it, but if you don’t need to breathe, then how are you getting that oxygen? And how are your organs functioning? Or are they functioning? Are they rotting inside you right now?” She took a step forward, as if to start looking, and Malachy actually backed up a step.

“There will be no autopsies in this house,” I said loudly, “especially if you’ll be finding rotting organs. I just cleaned the carpets.”

“My organs are not rotting!”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care, they probably are, but that’s your problem, not mine.”

“They are not—”

“I have a scalpel, we could check,” Theresa piped up, beaming. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about your regeneration and healing capabilities, anyway.”

We both looked at her.

“How old is she?” Malachy asked me in an undertone.

“She’s turning twelve on Friday,” I said, not bothering to keep my voice down. “And speaking of, Theresa, if you want a party Friday afternoon, you’d better finish your homework ahead of time. You can bother Malachy afterwards.” I’d probably pay her to do it, if he was overstaying his welcome.

She gave me a pleading look. “Just a couple more questions?”

Behind her, Malachy was shaking his head no. I bestowed a beautiful smile on him, and told her, “Of course! You can have three.”

Theresa was physically incapable of sticking to three pre-planned questions. I let her herd him into the living room, talking at the speed that only middle-schoolers could achieve, and went into the kitchen to grab some supplies.

I came back out to find Malachy eyeing Theresa warily as she industriously wrote out calculations on her clipboard. He was sitting on one of the armchairs—the one that happened to be farthest from any doors or windows, I noticed. Coincidentally, these were all covered in crosses.

“Homework,” I said firmly, and she sent me a pleading look, but I shook my head at her, and she sighed. Collecting all of her things, she dragged herself out of the living room. As I set the vase down on the end table. I could hear her sadly thumping her way upstairs and into her room.

Malachy nodded at me, which was probably the closest I’d ever get to a “thank you” from him. Then he sniffed the air, and frowned over at the end table by the couch. “Is that…?”

I arranged the garlic flowers in the vase to display their purple petals a little more prominently. “Just testing out some questions of my own. Say, if I spilled some beans just now”—I had, there were a few on the floor by the couch—“would you feel compelled to clean them up?”

He had been regarding the garlic flowers with narrowed eyes, but turned away from his contemplation long enough to give me a scornful look. “I’m not a jiāngshī, am I?”

That piqued my curiosity. “There are different types of vampires?”

Malachy laughed. “As many as there are legends about them. Hollywood doesn’t have a copyright on the supernatural world, you know.”

“Great,” I muttered. So not everything I knew about vampires would apply to every one. Lovely. Guess I’d better start stocking beans in my purse alongside garlic and rosaries.

“That’s not really important right now,” he said, and I stared at the carpet. Normally Malachy never passed up the chance to mock my understanding of the supernatural world—if he was doing so now, the world must be ending soon. And I didn’t want any part in the trouble he’d probably brought with him, but on the other hand—Isa.

Just because my best friend had started dating a vampire—and been drawn further and further into a world that seemed bent on killing her—didn’t mean I wouldn’t do everything in my power to help her.

And right now, she wasn’t doing too well. Apparently, one of her direct ancestors had been attacked by a very powerful vampire, one who’d been thought to have perished ages ago. But now he’d resurfaced, and Isa was experiencing side effects from it. Odd dreams and lethargy being the least of them.

That was my understanding of the issue. The Circle had other ideas. 

“What’s the problem?”

“You remember the Circle,” he said, and I grimaced. Yeah, I remembered them—the organization of witches that basically wanted to run the supernatural world, and the ones who’d taken issue with some of my critiques of said world. It was kind of hard to forget, since Isa and I had fought over her decision to work with them, among other things. The fight had culminated in some fairly harsh things being said on both sides—but I didn’t like to think about that.

Suffice to say, I disliked the Circle and the feeling was mutual.

“What about them?” I said, as neutrally as I could manage.

“They have a lead on Isa’s condition,” he said, “but it involves a trip to the Underworld.”

After a polite pause, in which I gave him ample time to crack a smile at his joke, I reluctantly concluded that he was being serious. “Underworld? As in Hades and the three Fates? Hercules?” I’d really only ever seen the Disney movie.

“Hades, Annwn, Hel, Yomi, Elysium—whatever name you call it by, yes. There’s a key there that might help in a ritual, apparently. Something about using a key from the land of the dead to break the connection between her blood and the vampire’s. Sometime in the next week, the Circle—and Isa—are going to try to summon this key. I’d really rather avoid the risks of Isa attracting the kinds of beings that populate the Underworld, and so I’m proposing to nip in and retrieve it before this becomes a mess of drastic proportions.”

I crossed my arms and resisted the urge to curl up on the couch. It wasn’t that cold, even for October. “Okay. So what do you need me for?”

He gave me a long look. “You’ve heard of Orpheus?”

I shook my head. 

“The state of education is shameful, these days,” he muttered. “To cut a long story short—Orpheus was a musician whose wife died. He traveled to the Underworld to ask for her life back. He got it, but at a price. On the way up, if he turned to look back at her, she’d be lost to him forever. Three guesses as to how the story ends.”

“With the redemptive power of love and faith leading to a happy ending?” I said defiantly.

“Wrong. He looks back just once, and no more wife. She was sent back to the underworld forever. Then he died.”

“Of grief?”

“No, actually, he got ripped apart by a group of madwomen later in his life. For disrespecting the gods, I believe. But I digress.”

I slouched back, the soft cushion of the couch dipping under my weight. “That’s a terrible story.”

“The point is, that you must have heard of any number of stories where human champions descend underground to a supernatural world. Alice in Wonderland? Labyrinth?” He caught my surprised look at the casual references to modern fiction and arched an eyebrow. “I’ve lived a long while. You fill up the time somehow, and television’s everywhere now.”

I tried to imagine Malachy sitting in front of the TV, watching as the cartoon Alice in her poofy blue dress spoke to Tweedledee and Tweedledum, and couldn’t quite manage it. For one, where’d he get the TV from? It’s not like he had a house—would the cable guys set one up in a crypt?

Did he even live in a crypt? When he wasn’t crashing on Isa’s couch, I mean.

“The point is that getting to the Underworld’s not so bad, dangers and guardians notwithstanding. In some cases, it’s disturbingly easy to do so. It’s getting out that’s the problem. See, you need someone who…well. Can withstand temptation. Strong moral character, and all that.”

“…” said I, staring at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Some people would take that as a compliment.”

“Wow, the undead creature of the night that makes it a habit to drain people of all their blood thinks I have strong moral character because I—tell him that what he does is wrong? Amazing. I’m truly astounded you managed to find one person to fit your criteria with that level of moral understanding.”

Then again, it was a world that apparently thought vampires were sexy precisely because of the undead blood-drinking thing, so maybe he had something there. Case in point: every time I went to the internet to research supernatural creatures, I had to wade through pages of supernatural romance shows, books, art, what-have-you, before I ever got to what might be considered even slightly academic. If not practical—somehow I doubted that the researchers at Harvard had ever had to deal with the problem of a vampire inviting himself over to tea once a week. I declined to share this thought with him, however.

He arched an eyebrow at me. “Well? Will you do it?”

“What kind of temptation are we talking about here?” I was reluctant to commit, even though I knew in the end I’d do it.

“Any and all.”

Helpful.

Actually, I’d share that thought with him. “Helpful,” I said. “Elaborate?”

Malachy gave me a thin-lipped smile. “Death’s more attractive than you might think. And if not that, then fear.”

“Of…?”

“The unknown? Being left behind? Of it all being a trick? Remember, Orpheus turned around.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And the chances of getting out?”

He gave me his most charming smile. “I have every confidence in your talents, Lili.”

I arched an eyebrow of my own.

“Being the most stubborn, uptight, Miss-Morally-Righteous woman I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet in death,” he said, still smiling. “Also, you know, very strong belief. And you know how important that is, when it comes to my world.”

I did. Crosses, as far as I understood, hurt vampires—at least the kind I was familiar with—because (depending on what belief one subscribed to) they symbolized the resurrection of the dead, which vampires couldn’t partake in due to their unnatural state, or the power of God, or Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. Explanations varied. 

While crosses and other holy objects (Christian, so far as I had experienced—jury was still out on other religions, though with Malachy’s reveal of different kinds of vampires, now I wondered) all had the ability to make vampires flinch back, it was the item holder’s faith that gave it real power. And it wasn’t just faith in the item, but what it represented.

Months ago, Malachy had seen me keep back a vampire with nothing more than the Sign of the Cross and two popsicle sticks held in a cross shape. So I suppose to him, that was a sign—no pun intended—of my strong faith.

I wasn’t so sure about that. Somehow, I didn’t think that being able to hold back creatures of the night was more faith-filled than, say, volunteering my time at a soup kitchen, or helping old ladies cross the street, or any number of good works that I could be doing instead of coming home at the end of a day filled with classes and multiple shifts, collapsing on my bed, and promptly passing out, repeat ad nauseam.

But there wasn’t really any point to having a theological debate with this particular vampire about anything, much less Matthew 7:21-23.

“All right,” I said, “I’ll do it.”

That really should have been the end of it. I told him I didn’t have a day off until Saturday, two days from then (and conveniently for me, the day after Theresa’s birthday party, because there was no way I was planning, hosting, and then cleaning up a party for middle-schoolers after literally going to Hades). We set a time, he told me what to bring, and that was that.

Only it wasn’t.

Because Friday afternoon was when the school called to tell me Theresa went missing.

The first thing I did was—well. Panic, to be frank. This wasn’t the first time Theresa had gotten in trouble, and since the last time it had happened, it had involved a vampire of the non-Malachy variety—that is to say, not reasonable in any way and really rather bloodthirsty—I felt I was a little justified in doing so. Then, of course, I searched the house, called the school back, did all the normal things to check if her disappearance was due to something, well, normal.

Then, and only then, I called Isa.

The phone rang, and rang, and then—click!

My hopes were dashed when the voice I heard was the pre-recorded kind. I left a message, and then for good measure, texted her—though Isa had a flip phone, so I didn’t have real hopes of her texting back. And then I immediately called again. And again.

The other line connected, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Isa. I know it’s not a great time, but—”

“She walks through the long dread valley of night,

hand-in-hand with the hunter and his queen.

She sleeps under snow, she sleeps under ice—

and she fades away from the springtime green.”

The voice on the other end was soft—almost mechanical in its recitation. Yet there was something mesmerizing in the quiet rhythm of the words, hardly discernable through the crackling of the poor connection. As soon as the last word was spoken, the voice started over from the beginning. I don’t know how long I stood there, listening to the strange voice.

In fact, I was still listening, transfixed, when I sensed something behind me.

I whipped around, one of the kitchen knives in hand, to find Malachy regarding me with a raised eyebrow. Without lowering the knife, I lifted the phone away from my ear. I could still hear the voice tinnily in the background. “What was the last thing I said to you when you were over here on Monday?”

“It was Thursday, and I believe it was the equivalent of, ‘go back to whatever hell you spawned from,’ only the politer equivalent due to attentive young ears,” he said, but his heart wasn’t in the banter. “Have you heard from Isa?”

Damn. So it was really him. With trembling fingers, I put the knife back in the block. “No. I’ve been calling. Listen to this.”

Without the usual malicious pleasure I would have taken in doing so, I shoved the phone up next to his ear. 

He listened to it a few times, ended the call, and scrubbed at his face, which was looking a little paler than usual. For a corpse, at any rate. “She’s missing.”

“So’s Theresa,” I said, feeling cold. I put the phone away, reluctant to even look at it. It was strange to have something so obviously supernatural happen over such a modern device as the phone. “What do you think is going on?”

“I found out that the Circle was ahead of schedule and carried out their ritual at midnight. Apparently, they lost track of Isa at noon today.” He said this in a way that indicated to me that someone in the Circle had been left very unhappy when he discovered this. “When did your sister go missing?”

“I don’t know the exact time, but the school called me around one.”

“Not promising.”

“Do you think—”

“—it’s related? Probably. At least, you’d better hope, because I only know a potential method to track Isa, not your little tagalong.”

“Oh, God,” I said. “Where do you think—?”

“Better grab your jacket,” he said. “Looks like we’re making an early start on our road trip to Hell.”

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

I don’t know who need to hear this.

but if highschool, college, university, or just anything like that is stressing you out to the point of suicidal thoughts and tendencies

you just have to quit, there’s nothing wrong with it.

your life is worth so much more than stupid grades or a degree.

for all the people in highschool who were always told “if you don’t do high school you will never get into college/university” I’m so fucking sorry but those people were lying their fucking asses off.

you don’t need a highschool education to get into shit, hell it’s mostly about the money. Knowledge is awesome and valuable but it’s not worth killing yourself for.

don’t burn out in highschool literally this is not even a fucking joke it DOES NOT MATTER fuck highschool.

grades are a sham, the education system is flawed as hell, and your life IS WORTH MORE THAN A 100%/A+

your life is worth so much more than that, grades don’t matter you’ll hurt yourself so much if you keep thinking that.

you can homeschool, you can become a apprentice, you can learn well anything you want online now! You can call up a local science teacher and ask them to tutor you, HELL! do whatever it takes to keep your life and your love for knowledge.

school sucks, I know too many people to say otherwise. Your feelings are valid you ARE NOT A FAILURE for not doing amazing at your homework or at school fuck anyone who says that!

genuinely those fuckers don’t know shit about anything, learning is mistakes and failures and learning FROM IT if you never got a chance to try again how is it your fault you didn’t improve?

don’t kill yourself over school that is such a stupid thing to do, you can quit school and still get a education!!!! people just want you to stay in school and get abused and stressed to death.

I taught myself so much, because the current ways we teach people fucking sucks ass.

remember the grades and numbers and all that shit does not matter, what matters is that you love learning things and you keep learning.

I will fucking slap you dead ass in the face if you say anything more, if your family is abusive and you have to be a high achiever? WELL still don’t fucking kill yourself over their dumb fuck obsession with you being “good at school” there’s no such thing as winning and losing at learning!!!!!!!!

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS WINNING OR LOSING IN LEARNING!

genuinely there’s no such thing! You just don’t get it the first time! But learning and education is about love for knowledge it’s about kindness and respect it’s about finding new things it’s about being happy and knowing things you never did before!

it’s not about you “failing” it’s about learning that’s fucking it.

don’t kill yourself over the modern education system take fucking strikes, advocate for no time limits, advocate for better mental healthcare, advocate and SCREAM protest against it all.

your life is worth living, your life is beautiful and you have done everything to deserve it, you are someone is is worth something, and I will listen and we will fight.

you will get to the next day you will get to the next one after that you will live happily even if you think it’s impossible.

you will and you will love you will cry and you will see and dream and live a life YOU want.

abolish school, and we will make a new system that isn’t fucking what it was!

you are worth so much more than grades and papers, so don’t think so hard about it. You are you and you are worth it <3

-sincerely your local suicidal fucker

[meiiie]

dave lizewski, i’m so into you. (pt. 1)

summary: you say something unexpected about Kick-Ass while discussing with your friends which hero you prefer the most.. Kick-Ass? Or Red Mist? little did Dave know or so you thought, you knew it was him all along..

a/n: uhh this is just a silly little imagine.. no one is probably going to see this post anyway but i’m new to this so this isn’t really the best thing i wrote, i hope u still enjoy reading this LOL i’ve also added my OC named Melilah who will be your best friend in this, um slight nsfw mention near the end but no actual action, thats it i think! yeah that’s it, happy reading :)

(pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader) link to pt. 2

word count: 1.5k

It was a normal day, going to school, attending your classes, eating lunch, procrastinating your school works, submitting homework… attending more classes… rinse and repeat. But today was not what you expected, like.. at all.

ring ring… ring ring… you pick up your ringing phone while walking down the street, on your way to the convenience store.

“hello.?” your voice turns out more tired and groggier than you expected “hey when are you getting home sweetie? the food is getting cold and its already almost 6:30 pm, where are you?” your mom says with a worried voice, you could already imagine her face by just hearing her voice

this week has probably been one of the most stressful weeks of your entire life, class has been giving more school works, more due dates, you probably see your life flashing before your eyes right now “um yeah i’m on the way home already, don’t worry mom!” you say attempting to make your voice sound enthusiastic “well you better not be hanging out with that pretty boy.. actually maybe you should invite him for dinne-”

“mom— i—“ you cut her off but then you sigh giving up to even explain. “…he’s just a friend i swear..”

this supposedly ‘pretty boy’ your mom is referring to is Dave Lizewski, this guy in your class who you were paired up to work on a major project so he’s been at your house a few times already. surprisingly you get along with him really well? you’ve even become a part of his friend group including your best friend Melilah. She always points out the fact he always stares at you whenever you all hang out in Atomic Comics and during classes, but you’ve never really thought about him that way, or maybe you were considering it?

while walking down the road the street lights flicker a bit and you see someone trying to hanging onto the ledge of a billboard of some sort. you hear the figure shout at the cat sitting, waiting for him to fall “FUCK YOU MR BITEY!” his voice echoes, but wait.. why does his voice sound so familiar…? “okay okay okay, but call me and update me on where you are okay? be here quick, i love you!” your mom says- *THUD* you quickly look at the direction where the person, you assume, fell “UH yeah i’ll call you! i love you mom, BYE!” you say hastily, almost whispering.

beeeep.. beeeep.. you hang up the phone call, quickly putting your phone back in your messenger bag and hide behind a car. you spot a green figure, uh, “what in the world is that…” you think to yourself. the figure is wearing a weird.. cosplay suit.. it’s almost as if he looks like a green condo-

your thoughts are interrupted as he storms off looking frustrated, most probably because of the cat he couldn’t save.. he walks hurriedly into the dark alley. for some what reason you felt a little curious, just a little bit. so you go and follow the ‘super hero’, “this is so stupid.. someone remind me why I’m doing this to myself?” you whisper to yourself as you hide behind a pole, (you think this helps you stay hidden but you should’ve seen dave’s face when he saw you) trying to get a peek at the stranger. he takes off his mask angrily, you watch his curls fall into place, there are some scratches on his face from the fall, “damn why does he look so fine” you say in your thoughts and then you realize.

those are the blue eyes you see everyday in school, THAT’S DAVE LIZEWSKI. you silently gasp covering your face. his eyes dart at your direction, he shudders at the sound of your noise then next thing you know you start running away like a cockroach flew at your direction “WAIT!” he shouts, good thing you ran quick enough so he probably didn’t see your face, key word: probably.. actually there was no reason to be running from him at all- but you just felt like it..? considering you’re still in your denial stage about your feelings for him, who wouldn’t? you open the door to your house and get in as fast as you could just in case he followed you. the tv is bright and the news displays the text in bold ‘SUPERHERO KICKASS SAVES THE DAY’ you stare at the tv in shock because that’s… how… he’s Dave..?

your mom pops out of the kitchen “hey your back home! i thought you were going to call me to update me where you were..- oh yeah that superhero… what’s his name? Kickass? apparently he stopped a bunch of guys yesterday who were trying to beat up another guy that was in front of a convenience store and a bunch of people saw it then recorded blah blah blah you get it” you just stare at the tv in shock. “hello…? earth to y/n?”

it’s been almost 2 days, you’ve been avoiding Dave, trying not to make eye contact with him, passing by him in the halls, not even acknowledging his presence, even avoiding the hangouts to Atomic Comics, despite the fact you still have to do a major project with him. you open your locker getting books out of your locker, “hey have you heard about those two new superheros? Kickass? and Red Mist?” Melilah questions and your eyes widen at the question, only being reminded of Dave “yeah- well- i think its kinda dangerous doing that you know? being a um.. a superhero? why are people even so into them nowadays?” you say hesitatingly “ugh you are such a buzz kill, anyways Todd and Marty invited us to hangout… in Atomic Comics…” she looks like she’s about to ask a question, but she hesitates “go on.. continue” you gesture her to reply “why are you like.. i don’t know avoiding Dave? we’ve all kind of noticed that you know and the tension is killing all of us..”

you close the locker door and bring her to an empty classroom, you say “okay i know this sounds a bit crazy but DAVE IS KICKASS.” she “pffts” at your statement then turns to look at your face again, “oh.. your being serious” she says “YES I’M BEING SERIOUS?? i was on my way to the convenience store right and Kickass or Dave- i don’t know anymore was trying to save this cat then falls from this thing- anyways he walked in the alleyway so i was like ok i’ll just follow him! what could possibly happen!? then he took off his MASK SO THEN I RAN AWAY AND HE WAS LIKE ‘wait!���’ BUT I KEPT ON-” Melilah tries to comprehend everything, slowly nodding… slowly.. she whispers loudly “OKAY KEEP IT DOWN SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU, okay so are you SURE this was Dave?” still whispering

“a HUNDRED percent.” you say trying to defend that you weren’t just seeing things

she sighs “well what are we going to do? I already told them we were going to be there..”

“you said WHAT?”

“okay okay chill they didn’t say Dave was coming, they obviously noticed how awkward it was with you guys so why would they invite him right haha.. haha…..” she laughs nervously

after both of you gather your thoughts you find yourself already settling down in a booth, in Atomic Comics, contemplating your life decisions. fidgeting nervously already imagining what’s going to happen. hoping not to see him. Melilah comes back after gathering a bunch of comic books to read while waiting for them to arrive. “hey stop fidgeting your going to be fine, plus he doesn’t know you know. right…?” you both just stare at each other. you both start praying in unison—“lord give us the strength to-“

“give you guys the strength for what?” Todd interrupts, you look behind him frantically to check whether Dave was there or not. to your surprise, he wasn’t. does he know? did he see my face when i ran? what if he doesn’t like me anymore? wait. why did that even matter? Todd and Marty took a seat beside Melilah leaving you alone sitting at the other side of the booth, obviously planning something.. “guys what do you think of Kickass?” Melilah asks, you kick her leg from under the table making a face screaming WHYAREYOUBRINGINGHIMUP. in fairness the both of you didn’t know whether Todd and Marty knew about it too, you shoot a glance at her giving a ohhhhiunderstandnow look to what she’s doing (spoiler alert: you've got the wrong idea, she was in fact not helping you) “i think he’s fine i guess, to be honest Red Mist is way cooler though because of his cape and all..” Marty says with Todd nodding his head to show that he agrees

“well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say out of your thoughts completely regretting saying the said statement- “Really?” Dave says out of nowhere observing the conversation from behind your booth, making you jolt “y/n that just came out of nowhere what in the world.” Melilah says right after staring at you for a few seconds while Dave is making eye contact with you, smirking like he knows something. the conversation falls quiet.. real quiet… “okay wrap it up you two.” Todd interrupts, i wonder what happens next?

a/n: and the rest is history, I hope this was good enough lolol hope you enjoyed reading! (pt. 2 coming soon)

[miseta]

Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking 

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope

Holà, this is chapter 3. Not sure about the trigger warnings but I don't think it needs one. I think the way I want to tell my story works better by leaving some suspense. Let's say it's a slow burn and obviously and they will make out one day, so at a time there will be some explicit but not crude scenes. Reminder: I'm french. Don't hesitate to tell me if there there's very strange sentences or things you don't get. Sorry I hope to get better by writing.  

3K words

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"That one’s actually very good, Hayley !" The camera screen displayed the goalkeeper in the air, her jumping body suspended as she grabbed the ball in her gloves. Droplets of sweat nimbed her forehead and spread all around her. Her thick brows were frowned in the effort. In addition to her beauty, what made the photo stood out was the technically tricky to capture action of Misa s’moving body. 

Things were surprisingly going well at the Ciudad. Nothing had changed between Misa and I and as I was getting very fond of my job so I had commited for it to stay that way. We were having photo lessons almost every day after training sessions, occasionally joined by the northern girls Sofie, Freja and Caroline. But most of the time, it was the three of us that sat in a pitch corner, talking for hours until the staff would finally kicked us out of the stadium. 

"Thanks Nicky! I’m thinking about buying a camera, I love photography for real!." Boasted Hayley. 

"You should, teacher says you’re ready". Hayley had indeed proven herself an implicated student. She had applied my technical advices but she had also been willing to experiment on her own. As a result, she showed a taste for moving models and lights effects. Sometimes she would take neat actions with sharp details, sometime she’d rather set the presets to create blurry scenes where the bodies outlines melted in the background. 

As to Misa… well Misa’s photos were Misa’s. She was having a hard time to concentrate and her taste level was really questionnable. She would put too much grain or contrast. Every shots were oddly framed. When I tried to guide her toward subtler artistic choices, she had said "Pero me gusta el efecto !" or "Vale Nicky, but I am the artist" with her now well known over the top manners. Misa was much: pretty, athletic, funny, goofy… and stubborn. She was doing everything at a hundred per cent, perhaps except listening.

So, I was rather irritated when she sat on the grass, ostentatiously sulking because I had not complimented her own work. Hayley, of course, wasn’t helping. "Maria Isabel hasn’t done her homework but wants to be praised!". 

"I did but teacher doesn’t like me !" She moaned. 

"Maria Isabel should be in detention." I said calmly. 

"Por qué !? No !" She shot me an offended look and grumpily crossed her arms on her chest. 

"Porque no escuchas nada and teacher is fed up." I was clearly enjoying myself at teasing Misa with the most calm. 

"You don’t like my style, that’s all." She laid on her back, arms still crossed. Hayley walked over her, bent and angled the camera into her face and started taking pictures of the moody girl. "It’s because you don’t have one sweetie" She said. Misa opened her mouth wide, outraged. She rolled over on her belly, hiding her face from Hayley unceasing photoshoot. "Come on Misa! I’m sure you can do better, you’re not even trying!" 

"I may have one last idea to help Misa get it…"Both head turned to me." There is a photo exhibit at Matadero Art Center just now. Maybe we should give it a try. And Misa will find what she likes." 

"That would be great !" Said Hayley. She had stopped taking pictures and was now sat besides the goalkeeper. Misa moved to the side. "I already know what I like" she said frowning. We stared at her, eyebrows raised. "All right, we’ll go to your museo…". She sat up still pouting. "But before…" She stood up and reached out to me with an incredible speed. She easily heaved me in her arms and had me laying on my back before I got to know what was happening. "Misaaaa what the fuck ?!"

Misa, on all four over me, smirked and pined me to the ground with her strong hands. "Let’s switch roles ! Hayley come over and take some silly photos of Nicky for a change !" I was laughing hard and… getting aroused by Misa topping me. Her firms grasp and her weight were burying my hands into the grass. A naughty smile appeared on her beautiful face. "Let me go !" I shouted. I was breathing hard from struggle against her and from growing frankly excited. Hayley clicked madly on the camera trigger. She couldn’t see Misa’s penetrating gaze. Was it me or was she breathing harder too while keeping me lying down didn’t seem to cost her in the slightest? I closed my eyelid, too aware of the lens focused on me to look Misa in the eyes. Too turned on by everything that was going on… appart from the oppressing clicking noise and Hayley’s presence. 

"I think we’re good and that it will be ugly, I promise" I heard Hayley. I felt the pression of Misa’s hands disappeared. I opened my eyes to find she had straighten up. Her legs on each side of my waist, she was peering down at me intensely. "I think you deserved that" she said, satisfied. 

"I don’t think I deserved that much" I responded, catching my breath. 

"You two, go get a room it’s becoming embarrassing ! Cuidad is closing, we have to leave". I had almost forgotten Hayley. Her voice was taking me back to reality. We both smiled nervously. 

Misa got up, held out her hands to help me standing. As I took them she pulled me a bit too strongly, I lost balance and landed against her. My mouth touched the base of her neck only a second. She smelled a mix of sweat and perfume. She steadied me in her arms an instant. "I just saved the teacher, does it mean I’m no longer in detention ?" She released me. She hadn’t lost her smirk. 

I composed myself again and took my authoritarian tone at once. "You are grounded for a month, both of you ! And in detention at the museum without question!"  

***

I called Angela on the evening. I felt the urged to talk. Not especially about me. I just wanted to feel the connection with my best mate again but surely the conversation topic went on my new footballer friends. 

"… and you’ve given them photo lessons almost every day ? Wow, Nicky I didn’t know you had that kind of patience !" 

"How you would you know Angela, Madrid is changing me. I am a much more sensible and patiente personne." 

"Still hard to believe… Anyway, I’m glad you hang with them. I like this Hayley, fuck the clause I would have seen you getting together. She has a sensitive fiber like you and seems fun !"

"humm, no Hayley’s a friend." I was laying down in my bed, calling Angela for at least an hour and a half now. I pictured Hayley in my mind. In derry, she was the total package and the two of us were really getting along well. But as pretty as she was, I wasn’t attracted by her. I was, despite all my efforts, always caught up with my attraction to Misa. Her poor photographer skills and moody behavior were so endearing to me and I felt more and more charmed by the goalkeeper’s whole personality. 

"Nicky are you there ?" I didn’t realized I had stopped listening. 

"Sorry ? What ?" 

"I was saying I admire you, just being friend with such hotties ! I couldn’t !

"Yeah, incredible right ?! I closed my eyes, I was sure Angela had heard the nervousness of my tone.  

"Oh no Nicky! Which one ?!" I smiled. It felt good she knew me so well.

"You won’t believe me…" 

"Spit it out !"

"It’s Misa…" I was gazing at the celling, my absent smile widened as I spoke her name. 

"Misa?? But she seems… I mean you don’t seem to have a lot in common."

"I know, anyway I shouldn’t even think about it…"

"But you do… ?" 

I heavily sighed. Misa’s smirking face appeared in front of my eyes. "Yes… but I also think about the clause, the fact that I’m bound to it, that my working visa depends on this job that I love, and so is my lease…"

"Ok ok Nicky it’s alright, calm down. You’re finding a girl cute, what a big deal? You’re at least allowed that ! You are not doing anything wrong, you’re not doing anything at all, relax !" 

"You’re right" As usual, Angela had found the words to reassure me. "But still, fucking clause !" I sweared. 

"Fucking clause…" echoed Angela. 

***

I received a message from Hayley on the morning before the exhibition visit. 

My family are paying me a surprise visit just now. They came from Sidney I had no idea !!! This is crazy sorry for the museum I really wanted to go but I’ll spend the day with them. Im so happy 

I answered it was ok and to enjoy her family time. Then I texted Misa. 

"Hayley’s family’s just showed up and she can’t come. Do you still wanna go ?"

Misa’s text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times leaving me wondering what answer I was wishing for. 

"Do I have the choice ? I thought it was my punishment…" 

I grined, loving her playful side. Or was she … flirting ? 

"You’re right but teacher would rather you go to your detention willingly." 

"huh teacher wants a lot. What else teacher wants from me ?" 

I gasped. She was flirting ! My mind ran wild, imagining the numerous things I craved from Misa. I breathed out deeply, tried to focus again as I pictured myself fiery kissing her. I had to take control of my brain again. I had to bury the surging wave of desire I felt at the simple idea of Misa wishing to give me what I wanted. 

"Teacher wants you to have a good time" was the most diplomatic and sober answer I could come up with. I quickly added "See you then" to put a stop to that dangerous conversation. 

"I’d say let’s see what’s going to happen. See you Nicky"

Wow, she was going for real ! How the hell was I going to survive the afternoon ?! 

***

I was gulping down hard when I joined Misa at the entrance of Matadero Arts Center of Madrid. I felt so tensed when we hugged but Misa appeared to be her usual self. Once again, she gave no sign that something was going on between us and once again I wondered if I hadn’t misjudged her intentions. 

We headed inside. The center was formed by many huge bricked houses which happened to be old slaughterhouses. None of the previous gloomy functions of the place has remained, it was now very pleasant to walk in the large aisles between the red buildings. In the middle of the afternoon, the sun was knocking hard on our heads. Misa was looking all around us, her hand above her dazzled eyes. "It’s a shame I’ve never been there before, living all these years in Madrid" 

We reached the exhibition hall a few minutes later. I bought the tickets. Misa was following me closely. She clearly wasn’t in her element as we moved forward inside the vast hall. The exhibition was called "Deportes: fotografía en movimiento" and shown various approaches of taking picture of athletes. I was surprised to see Misa very focused. She looked at each photo, paused a long time when she seemed interested or intrigued by something. 

"Misa, look at this one" The framed picture was showing gymnasts doing incredible acrobatic tricks. "Look at the geometric composition, that's what I was trying to explain about framing." Misa shook her head with enthusiasm. "I think I get it now, yes. But I have found what I want to do." 

She took my hand and led me to a more hidden corner where another series of photos were displayed on the walls. "Wait, what ?" I let out. There were cats and dogs on every pictures, and even a baby pig. "They are the athlete’s pets" She said happily. She hasn’t let go of my hand. "I think I want to photograph animals, or nature." She came to face me with the cutest smile, and thought I had severe doubts this was going to help Misa progress technically, I replied "Yes! Ok! Let’s give a try on naturalistic photography!". 

She smiled more widely, her hand still in mine, and her fingers softly stroked my palm while she loosened her grip. I started to panic. Her lips wore a more discreet smile as she watched me unsurely. She took a step forward. I had to react quickly but I didn’t want her to feel rejected. 

"Come on, I’m taking you to the park along the river. There is plenty of birds and plants for you to shoot." I grasped her hand back to take us out of the hall and out of the prickly situation. 

However, as we arrived at the park, I realized I had put myself in an even more perilous condition. The sun was setting. A light breeze was blowing in the trees. Birds were melodiously twitting nearby. An empty bench shield from the view was waiting for us at the end of a very lovely flowery path. I tried hard not to look at Misa. She was walking close to me, unusually quiet. I dared to take a look at her. She caught my side-eye and a shy smile appeared on her lips. What did I do? She was probably getting all wrong, imagining I had picked such a romantic place on purpose! 

We reached the oh so welcoming bench. None of us spoke as we sat. I starred at the distance. I was feeling my heart pounding hard in my chest. Misa was looking at her laps, timid all of a sudden. I had to say something. 

"You should try to shoot those flowers for a start" I tried as a diversion. "The red and bleu ones that look like the Barça kit. See, I’ve learnt about football." I added wanting to diminish the growing tension. "Oh no Barça please…" She rubbed a hand across her face. I had clearly said the wrong thing. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you" I put my hand on her shoulder. Her long hair was partially hiding her face. "Do… do you want to talk about it ?" I said hesitantly. She tensed. 

"You don’t know about the Clasico. We keep loosing against them every times and honestly, I’m used to it. It’s ok even though I’m doing my best but…" her voice trailed down as she took a deep breath. "Next Clasico is one week away and that’s the finale of the Copa de la Reina." She lifted her head to look me in the eyes. "I don’t know if I can take the pressure this time..." She was talking so openly to me. The fierce and funny goalkeeper was allowing her unsecured part to finally surface. And that was when I realized I cared for her. 

I took Misa into a hug. She sighed and buried her face in my neck. "You can do it Misa. I don’t know you for very long but I am certain that you can." She stayed there, her heavy breathing gently blowing my hair. "I really want to win!" She almost cried. "We keep doing better but we haven’t won any Spanish championship! Quiero ganar ostia!" She lifted her head again and I stopped hugging her. I was glad to see a frustrated grin back on her face. "You can do it! Hala Madrid! I feel part of the family now." I genuinely said to boost her up. She let out a soft laugh and ran her fingers through her hair. She took my hand again. "Gracias" she muttered. Her brown eyes found mine again. Her expression was so soft at this very moment. Her gaze went down to my mouth. I wanted to kiss her so bad. Her slightly parted lips quivered. My chest was about to explode as I slowly moved my face closer to hers.

At that precise moment, a loud buzzing sound came from Misa's pocket and had us both jump in fear. Misa straightened herself and took her phone out. I sled appart on the bench, breathing out a mix of relief and deep frustration. 

"Holà Jenni" Misa answered in a slightly irritated voice. "no, no conozco las noticias…" She rolled her eyes at me. I was too shaken to be amused by the situation. Misa and Jenni kept on talking on the phone. In fact, it was more like Misa was listening to an unstoppable Jenni. I wasn’t getting much of the quick flowing Spanish of Misa. Besides, I was once again buried deep in my thoughts. My heart and reason were battling heavily against each other. Misa was getting seriously annoyed the call wouldn’t finish. She was founding hard to even speak a world between the endless sentences of her best friend. She turned for me to read the word "Perdón!" on her lips several times as I scrolled mechanically on my phone. 

Minutes went by and night started to fall when Misa finally hung up. "I’m so sorry I should never have taken that call !" She sighted. I got up quickly "No prob. But it’s getting late, we should get going". Reason had won over heart for now. Or at least, chance had buy me time to really sort things out. Misa looked up at me, surprised. She hadn’t expected that. This time I didn’t dared to even take a glimpse at her. As I gave her no reaction, she let her head fall down in her hands. I heard her taking a deep breath before she finally stood up and started following me. 

Lulled by the light swing of the train, a part of me had cooled down. An other part was going crazy for real. Misa was wanting me. A calm, almost pleasant panic was filling me entirely on the way home. 

Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico

[imnotevenusin]

Explaining some placements in my Natal Chart

1. Taurus Mars: Honestly, I am kinda slow to taking action on most things. Usually, I don’t get that defensive, and I’m more comfortable with letting things slide; I don’t have enough energy for confrontation sometimes.

- squaring Neptune: Mars square Neptune is my worst aspect imo. This placement makes it hard for me to feel motivated; daydreaming is my go to, but I’m “working” on trying to knock down my goals in a realistic manner. I think this also makes my actions misconstrued by others - I always got in trouble and perceived as suspicious by others.

2. Mercury in Leo 11°: My laugh is contagious. A Leo Mercury gets attention from the way they communicate or laugh.

- opposing Neptune: Fucking terrible. All my words come out so wrong and jumbled together. An unhealthy amount of daydreaming too. I’ve always been a creative writer tho.

- conjunct Saturn: This one is annoying too. I do feel like my comments or opinions get ignored sometimes. And I gotta talk slowly to get the best sentences out. In general, Mercury-Saturn eventually makes you smart and well-educated; Saturn takes out what isn’t necessary and makes you think about something longer before you say it.

3. Aries Moon: I’ve definitely witnessed my Mom taking the leadership role in the household while growing up. She’s always wanted me to be more militant and confident. Even when I think something isn’t a big deal, she’ll take it very seriously. I’ve also heard of the Aries Moons having big foreheads-trend.

I think this is the most sensitive Moon sign, because the Moon is such a vulnerable planet and Aries feels everything so fast. Whenever I face emotional problems - or discomfort, I like to work out, or listen to loud music. Its like this weird energy rush.

3rd House Moon trine Mercury: Mind is racing constantly. I like to write out my feelings and thoughts to feel better. I can accurately analyze my emotional state. I’m a good student too—not so much with homework—and I can easily pay attention and participate in class.

-sextile Neptune: I can express my emotions through poetry and music. Neptune makes me a little more empathetic.

4. Libra MC: Throughout school, I’ve always been known for having nice outfits. My biggest aspirations involve artistic things: screenwriting & music.

5. Sun in Leo 29°/8H: Theres a lot of enjoyment in Astrology—which is also rules by the 8H—for me. In school, I had a list of everybody’s birthdays for some reason. I’m heavily interested in the subconscious mind and how it controls you—your behavior and how it affects the decisions you make. I’ve always been more interested in everything under the surface.

6. Saturn in Leo: I never really felt my Leo energy like that. I’m more reserved tbr. For some reason, I feel guilty and annoying for enjoying myself and simply being creative - even when it’s not bothering anybody.

7. Capricorn Rising: People usually tell me I look older than I am. I feel naturally awkward for some reason. Since the 1st House deals with the relationship we have with ourselves, it took me a while to get comfortable - Saturn rules Capricorn.

8. Chiron in the 1st House rX: Honestly, I never really put that much importance on my height, until other people started commenting on it. And there’s always unneeded comments on my appearance. Since its in Capricorn, I’ve had teeth problems growing up, and now I have braces.

9. Pluto in the 12th House rX: The 12th House is separated from everything and everybody. I’ve always been existential since an early age. There was always a fear of being separated from people. I do like to dig deep into my subconscious mind and figure myself out more; I’ve realized how powerful the subconscious mind was and why I was acting the way I was. Detaching from everything also seems to give me less burdens. Sleep Paralysis issues too.

10. Saturn in the 7H: Suckkkksssssss. Growing up, I was definitely the late-bloomer when it comes to relationships.

11. Uranus in the 2H sextile Ascendant: Definitely felt like an oddball growing up. I’m not the only person that listens to Rock, but I definitely got weird looks and reactions for enjoying it. I do get self-esteeem from being different, even if it alienates me. My appearance and interests surprises people.

12. Mars/Aries in the 4H: WWE matches in my household/family.

[holylulusworld]

Big girls don't cry (5)

Summary: You are no stranger to heartbreak.

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Plussized!Reader

Warnings:  angst, strong reader, mentions of former heartbreak, regret, fear of commitment, abandonment issues, fluff, mistaken identity, hopeful ending, a little fun, talk about therapy

Big girls don’t cry masterlist

Part 4

“I wish you love. A love that will give you everything you’ll ever need…”

You fist his shirt, desperate to tell Steve how you feel. Yes, he hurt you deeply but maybe there is a chance that you can work things out. 

There is love between the two of you. A love you don’t want to give up easily. 

You didn’t know he struggled in the past too, believing he always was the self-confident man he is. You understand now that he is insecure sometimes - just like you.

“Steve, I don’t want someone else to love me. I only wanted you to love me,” you hide your face in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears.

“I ruined our love. I destroyed what we had because of my insecurities,” Steve cries now too. He hiccups and buries his face in your neck. “You will never love me again. I threw the best thing ever happening to me away. What else can I do but let you go to find someone better?”

“Steve, love doesn’t die easily. It’s stronger than you give it credit for. Love isn’t always strong from the beginning. It grows if you give it the chance to do so. Every touch, kiss, or gentle gesture let it grow,” you choke out a sob. “Even after a storm, it can grow if you find a way to forgive each other.”

“I love you so much it hurts not having you around. That day, I wanted to ask you to move in with me,” he sniffs, “I wasn’t sure how to propose, but I got the ring, and then…”

“You messed shit up, Stevie,” you whisper against him. “Why did you have to say these things? Why?”

“Sam and Bucky said I’m whipped, and I got scared that you will make me fall in love even more only to break my heart. Everyone just left me, and I kind of sabotaged our relationship to not get hurt. Instead, I hurt the only person who meant the world to me. I hate myself for it.”

“You’ve got abandonment issues. I don’t think you’ll be able to have a healthy relationship if you don’t seek help. Maybe you need a therapist to help you come to terms with your past. I’d gladly help you, but I don’t think I’m the right person.”

“A therapist,” Steve whispers. “Will you help me find one? I-I trust you and…”

“I won’t give up on us yet, Steve. I’m still angry at you. But mostly, I’m hurt. You didn’t trust me enough to talk about your past with me.”

“You didn’t talk about your past with me either, doll,” he lifts his head to look at you. “I guess we both should try to come to terms with our past. Maybe we can do it together?” Steve looks at you like a kicked puppy. “Please…”

“So…” You sit on Steve’s sofa, looking at the notebook in your hands. “What do you think about the therapist and the homework he gave us?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve places a cup of tea and some cookies on the coffee table in front of you. “It felt good to talk about the things bugging me. But I didn’t like the way he stared at your chest.”

You giggle. Steve is not wrong. Dr. Hansen poorly hid his attraction toward your boobs and ass. Maybe he wasn’t the best choice, but he had the best reviews. 

Steve sighs and opens his notebook to reread the instructions Dr. Hansen gave him during their private session. “He told me to tell you how much I love your body. With my tongue and body.”

“He told you to have sex with me?” You wrinkle your nose. “You’re lying.” Steve yelps when you snatch the notebook out of his hands to get a look at the instructions. “Did he draw me?”

“Uh-that was me. Dr. Hansen was talking about you, and that you’re a beautiful woman. He wanted me to cherish you. I couldn’t help myself and draw you.”

“You’re very talented Steve,” you grin. “Just draw me with clothes on next time…”

“He didn’t see a thing. I swear,” he starts to sweat. “It’s just that the was talking about you, and your appearance all the time and my mind wandered.”

Sighing again you close the notebook. “I don’t think Dr. Hansen will help us. He’s a pervert.”

“Hmmm…” Steve nods in agreement. “I don’t understand all the good reviews. Maybe they are fake.”

“Let me check again,” you grab your phone to search for Dr. Hansen. “Hmm…” You frown deeply. “Crap.”

“What?” Steve looks at you, brows furrowed. “Doll? What’s wrong?” He worriedly places his hand on your thigh.

“I think…uh…I messed up this time,” you giggle as your cheeks heat up. “I noted the wrong address. I wanted to go to Dr. Hanson, not Dr. Hansen. We kinda ended up with a sex therapist.”

Steve snorts. “Well, we never had a problem in that department. Our sex was extraordinary, kinky, sweet, hot, and satisfying.”

“You are telling me,” you groan loudly. “Great. Now I know why he was talking about my sad vagina all the time. I believed he was a creep when he wanted me to tell him about my masturbation routine.”

“He asked you how you touch yourself?” Steve’s head snaps toward you. “I swear, I’m going to kill him. Right now. I’ll go to his practice and murder him.”

“He only did his job,” you point out. 

Steve pouts. “I still don’t like that guy. He accused me of not taking care of your muffin. I don’t know what he meant, but I didn’t like it one bit.” 

You snort, as you watch Steve. “Oh my god. Stevie! You can’t be serious.”

“I’m damn serious.” He slams his fist into the couch. “I always ate your muffins and cupcakes. How dare that man to say I don’t like the food you make.”

“Steve,” you giggle as you place your hand on his shoulder. “He was talking about my vagina, not pastries.”

“What?” All color drains from Steve’s face. His features harden and he’s about to kick the table. “How can he say such a thing?”

“Uh-I kinda told him that you disappointed me. I guess he believed I was talking about your qualities in the bedroom.” You start laughing at Steve’s pissed expression. He grunts as you hold your stomach. “This can only happen to us. We seek help and end up with a sex therapist.”

“Stop laughing,” Steve struggles to not laugh. “Doll, stop laughing. We should talk about our relationship, not laugh about our therapist.”

“I wanna laugh,” you giggle and kick your feet. “That feels,” you snort while laughing, “so good. Stevie…”

After the incident with Dr. Hansen, and your flash of laughter you decided to talk things out with Steve in private. If you need professional help, you can still look for a therapist.

It’s been two weeks, and you are slowly making progress. You talked about your childhood friends and slowly got closer to the core of your problems. Distrust and the fear of getting hurt again.

“You can take your time,” Steve softly says. “I told you about Peggy and the others hurting me. Uh-and my first girlfriend. You know that I’ll not judge you or laugh about you.”

You inhale sharply. It’s been years since you thought about your first love. “It was because of one of his friends’ comments. We were good, and I believed he liked me. One false word from his friend and he decided that I was not the girl he wanted to take to prom. Since then, I never trusted someone with my heart. Until you.”

“And I broke your trust in me,” Steve sighs deeply. “I know I said it before but I’m so fucking sorry. What happened in my past shouldn’t have influenced my life and my feelings for you. If I could turn back time and take the words back, I’d do it.”

“Now that we talked about our past, we should address the elephant in the room. Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know,” he honestly says. “All I know is that my feelings for you never changed, and that I love you. I just don’t know if that’s enough for you.”

“What about your job? You quit and gave up your career,” you move a little closer to Steve to take his hand in yours. “What do you want to do now?”

“Bucky, Sam, and I are thinking about starting our own business. That was my dream for years. I hated working for that asshole.”

You interlock your fingers with Steve and lean your head against his shoulder. “You’ll stay in New York, right? I don’t want you to move miles away.”

“Of course, I’ll stay close to you, doll. It’s only a vague idea so far. We still need to talk about the details,” Steve leans his head against yours, sighing. “Do you want me to stick around?”

“Hmm…I could get any guy, you know. Including Dr. Hansen,” you grin hearing Steve inhale sharply. “Every guy wants a taste of me.”

“Y-ou wouldn’t go out with Dr. Hansen. Right? He’s still a creep,” Steve stammers. “Please don’t go out with him.”

“I could have any guy, but I only want you, Steve.”

Steve nods. He knows that you’ve got a long way ahead. Both of you need to heal, but if you are willing to give him the chance, he’ll show you what love is…

FIN

Tags in reblog.

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

ten weeks left, five to go… two thirds of the way there! i am, indeed, le tired…. but it’s gonna be okay… this week is pretty full throttle but next week i’ll get at least one day off for thanksgiving, so that’s… something…

i had a major work win this week in that a kid i had been pulling my hair out over did WAY the fuck better than i thought he would on his first test sitting. it’s looking like he’s still going to take it again even though he has scores that are perfectly adequate for the schools he’s looking at, so… i am holding on to my most work-intensive client… but a) his sessions will no longer bum me out and b) i can finally feel confident that the 1 billion hours i have put into writing or compiling from various sources follow up problems because none of the one-stop-shop ones felt good enough have actually served a purpose and therefore i can feel less conflicted about my regrettably unkillable sense of professional integrity. two other kids also tested, one landing at “so close but not totally quite” and the other at honestly a little worse than i would have expected? but her next test date pretty far out so i’m not too stressed. (i am learning over time that the first couple times they take a test straight through, practice or real, it goes bad… sometimes they don’t improve despite my best efforts but even the ones that do wind up doing well almost always do worse than i expect for a while and then somehow pull it together through a process that remains mysterious even to me….)

i think i am going to try something this week which is to plan to work approximately 35 hours spread out approximately evenly. based on recent weeks this should be enough (and if it’s not enough i’ll know that soon enough to course correct) and i think going into the week with this intention will help with the part where like… there almost always is theoretically work i could be doing which is an annoying psychological cloud to have hovering around me. i feel like maybe aiming for “about 5 hours a day, including any sessions” will help me feel more balanced and hopefully more able to sort of compartmentalize and think occasionally of other matters lol. the trick with this kind of thing is not to let it oppress me under a rule of my own devising - it has often happened in the past that i find myself feeling totally insane about my struggle to live up to completely self-imposed expectations that don’y matter at all - but i feel like perhaps i am finally beginning to outgrow that tendency, because of how i have finally learned what it is like to feel actually pretty chill most of the time and how much i enjoy and cherish that feeling.

the other work related insight i have recently had is that i really do fucking hate getting up and having to do work before a set time (session) later that day, with the exception of just kind of gathering my materials digitally or physically for any sessions. updating the homework docs the morning after is both unavoidable sometimes and tolerable but it’s amazing how much worse it feels to prep a practice test i’m doing in 4 hours than one i’m doing even just as far away as tomorrow. i AM for the first time in a while going into this week going into monday fully prepped for all of tomorrow’s tutoring and ALSO caught up on admin work and it feels really nice and i hope that having a certain regular allotment of Work Time will make it easier for me to keep that up while also, like, doing laundry and stuff. (i find it hard to do multiple types of things a day so if i’m in a Chores Day then usually i’ll work as little as possible and then suddenly i have to prep a whole ACT by tomorrow… anyway)

the kitchen remains… acceptable! although i should at some point probably purchase “groceries.” room still very bad, is what it is. i only worked out a measly three times this week but at least one of them was full body day & another day was a hiit day that honestly was very fun but still has my calves knotted up three days later. i did not text g. bc i am a terrible friend. i did see the apprentice and it was not good and i did not mind bc jerbear ate as i knew he would and honestly sebstan was p. good too! i have started rereading jonathan strange & mr norrell primarily as a bedtime book bc it is a good inducement away from bedtime scrolling which has been a Problem, my sleep has NOT been great. actually that reminds me that i might start doing little mini versions of these nightly because i have come to really like this little sunday night ritual and the sense of closure it gives me on the week as well as optimism or at least fortitude for the week ahead, and i feel like it may be the case that doing a little “and this was the day that was” post may offer a helpful transition in moving into Bedtime Mode. (part of me is like, could i just do that in a journal…. but… the thing is i actually don’t think i could…. journal is very good for some things but it is not good in all the same ways as Blogging……… for me, an insane person)

[thedivineflowers]

hi!!! Love you works they’re so silly and good😜but sad😔 anyway I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to ask for when the boys (idk how many you’ll take but I think if you need a limited amount go with the first years😭) but yea when the boys say something plain ass bitchy and mean to middleschool!reader, like how were magic-less useless kid (looking at you Ace😡) saying some shit about our family or babying us too much till it become insufferable or smth and then when we get rightfully upset and cry or get upset (leaning on crying for more drama, angst and guilt😘) they realize how bad they fucked up and apologize, I feel like we would be a little stubborn about the apology depended on who it is to😭 but yea my goofy ahh request take your time and you can switch up the characters it’s your writing I don’t care! Love you works<333

YEHAHAHAHAHAH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM AND I LIKE DONT REALLY HAVE A LIMIT UNLESS I COULDNT REALLY THINK OF SOMETHING SO EYEYEYEY

OKAY IMA ETART IM SOMEZCIYED

I ONLY DID THE FIRST YEARS BECAUSE IT WAS GONNA TAKE SOME TIME AND I DIDNT WANT TO KEEP YOU WAITING SO HERE 😆

Ace: he’d always tease you. And during the first few weeks when he was warming up to you he’d diss you by saying that you were nothing without magic. He even referred to you as the useless and magicless kid for some time. Even after months he still referred to you as that and one day you just bursted. “Why can’t you shut up about me being magicless?! I know I’m at a disadvantage but I’m tired of it! The jokes dead now why can’t you get it!? If I could I’d just make a portal by myself to go back to my world so I don’t have to listen to you all damn day but guess what?! Im just some useless and magicless kid!!” You shouted at tears ran down your face. You stormed away and he tried running after you but you quickly maneuvered away from him. Because of his pride he didn’t apologize for days and stayed quiet when around you. One day after he was given a reality check by Deuce he apologized because guilt was really eating away at him. You still avoided him for a bit just to make sure but your friendship came back together.

Deuce: he kinda has a temper (to me he does) and he’ll let it out sometimes making him call you shit like Ace. But because he is trying to be a good student (and a good friend) he’d be very quiet if he’d call you things but you always manage to him whisper it to himself. One day you two were alone in the classroom doing detention because you two got into a fight when a guy mocked you. “Hey, Deuce.” You called him with an empty tone. “Do you really wish that I had magic. That I had someone to look after me so you didn’t have to stick around me all the time?” You asked as you eyes were glued to the table in front of you. Barely managing to answer the first question on your math homework. “I see how you look at me when I mess something up because I lack magic. I just wanna know.” You said as there was a pressure on your throat. Like you wanted to throw up and let out a yell at the same time. His answer only made the pressure worse as your breathing became short. Did he really think that it’d been better if the magic mirror didn’t pick you? That you’d only stay as the schools janitor? You quickly walked out leaving everything behind to go to the teachers bathroom that you had access to. Everyone thought the same thing about you so why were you throwing up in the sink and crying your eyes out? Because you thought of him as different? No. Deuce came to your dorm later that evening with your completed math homework and backpack. He sighed before apologizing about what he said earlier and the things he’s called you. After some talking your friendship was alright but with rockiness

Jack: At first because you were obviously magicless he’d be very overbearing to you when it comes to things like flying your broom three feet off the ground. He’d chastise you when you used simple spells by waking you up the morning and running with him. He’s trying to protect you but it seems that he underestimates what you know you can and can’t do. You’d get frustrated and try to express that you didn’t need to be babied but the words would just stay stuck in your throat because you knew that he was just trying to look after you. “I can do this Jack! You need to stop worrying about me with small things like having the damn ladle stir itself in the pot! I’m not gonna get hurt with it and I know you’re looking after me but you’re making me uneasy like I could die from just touching a book about small spells! You’ve seen me fly a broom around and be perfectly fine in Mr. Crewels class so what is it that makes you think that I need you breathing down my neck all the time?! Is it because I’m magicless and from another world? Is it because I’m still a kid?” You bubbles over and spewed at him one day while you were making yourself dinner. Jack stood there as he awkwardly looked to the side trying to find an excuse. “I-“ “Im not as fragile as you think. If I was I would’ve been dead.” He’d been contemplating how much magic you could handle and he knows you know that he’s watching over you but he doesn’t know that it was getting overwhelming for you. He avoided you for a bit before apologizing and admitting that he had protected you because he feared you were weak because you were still a kid. You nodded in understanding and forgave him.

Epel: he had a small ego boost because he heard that you were magicless and a child who still knew nothing. He’d also heard Vil chatting away about you and saying mean things even when you were around. So he thought that you wouldn’t mind if he did too. You tried getting along with him at one point but he just pushed you away. “Is there something wrong with me that makes you stay away from me? I know that Im nothing like you but I’m trying to make an effort to get along with you!” You cornered him one day in the hall with small tears about to well over. He had almost nothing to say but a small peep “Does me being magicless and from another world disgust you? If it does then just say it already so I can leave you the hell alone and stop wasting my time trying to make an effort!” You demanded “I- no, not at all! I just…” He cleared his throat away of his country accent. “I thought that a kid like you couldn’t go through so many things and not have anything to hold onto yourself, ‘thought it was silly and that everyone and you were bluffin’ so I pushed you away because I thought you were way over yourself before I even got the chance to talk you properly…” he trailed off as you wiped your eyes and looked at him in understanding. Over time you both tried holding conversations to get to know each other and get warmed up so the same mistake doesn’t happen again. (It is hot in my damn room help 😭)

(The ones from diasomnia don’t really know you here)

Sebek 😈: He’d always talk about it was ‘impossible for a child with nothing to their name’ to even do anything in a world where they didn’t belong when he wasn’t stuffing his mouth with praises for Malleus. How ‘Their parents clearly made a mistake in raising them’ because you couldn’t cast a spell in class without needing help or looking at the instructions again. He’d even insult you in front of Malleus when you do someone like walk past their table “That child has no grace when they walk! Even in the presence of my lord himself! Utterly disgusting!” He’d say and the other three wouldn’t really respond because they hardly know you. One day Mr. Crewel had you two paired in a project so you two went to a secluded place to start (I mean he walked away while you followed after him.). “For the hundredth time that species will poison you! Can’t you understand?! Sevens I don’t know how you’re alive when you can’t even memorize stuff like this.” He muttered as he pinched the space between his eyes. You then slammed your fists in the table with tears of Frustration boiling up. “Can’t you understand that I can’t get a grasp of things here?! I’m only (age) and I’m in the (grade) grade! No sebek I cant understand anything because I’m not from here! I’m not supposed to be here making spells or talking to you because I’m supposed to be in a world where I get shut out like you have done to me because of shit like this! I don’t have an identity but only my face as proof of my existence! I don’t care about this project anymore you can blame me all you want I’m leaving.” You concluded before shoving papers in your bag and hastily walking away before he could even speak. After he had complained of what you said to him to Lilia he suggested that he look at it from your view and apologize. So he did. Which earned him nothing more than a smack on the face and a door to his nose. It’s up to you if you forgive him.

[littlelalu]

FaceTime | Milo Manheim (Slight Smut)

WARNING: Some cussing ... some sexual words....

NOTE: Y/N = Your name

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FaceTime

The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual tonight. I am used to hearing Milo’s laughter echo through the place. He has been gone for a little over a month to film season 2 of School Spirits in Vancouver. I couldn’t go with him due to my job and school. This has been the longest time without seeing each other. We do Facetime, call, and text every day but it’s not the same. I want him here, with me. I knew what I was getting myself into when I began dating him, but I didn’t expect to miss him this much. This week was the worst too. I have been wanting “him”. I keep having flashbacks from the last time we had sex. His hands are all over my body, His m, his plus eyes. I have been doing everything to keep my mind off it by watching shows, going on a walk with Louie, and doing homework. NOTHING HELPS.

From the corner of my eye, I saw my phone screen lit up. I grabbed my phone and checked who it was. It was Milo.

“Hey Babe. Just got done filming and I am heading to the hotel now. Are you still up?” he said when I answered.

We have a 2-hour time difference. “Hiii babe! Yeah, it’s only 8 here haha. How was filming?” I texted back. I saw the little text bubble pop up again.

 ‘It was fucking amazing. We filmed a crazy scene that I will tell you more about later, but that shit was scary as hell.”

‘Scaredy cat” I joked.

 “Mean,” he said with a giggle.

“ Anyways do you have plans tonight with the cast again?” I asked curiously. I want to try something new.

“Nope. Why? Want to Facetime?”

“Yes!” I said too quickly, making him laugh.

“Give me like an hour. I am like 25 minutes away from the hotel and I want to shower. “

“Same here. See you soon babe.” I said before we hung up.

I passed some time by going on TikTok and scrolling through videos. After half an hour, I got up from the couch and began getting my things ready so I could shower.

~~~After shower. ~~~

I quickly changed into a crop top and shorts since I took a little longer in the shower than I thought I would. I walked into my room and grabbed my laptop. As my Macbook turned on, I texted Milo.

Hey babe. Are you good to go?

Yes ma’am! Start the call!

I started the Facetime call on my laptop. Milo answered instantly

“Hey, cutie!” He said as he answered. His hair looked messy and slightly wet from his shower. He could see his bare skin. Oh God. He’s shirtless.

“Miloooo!” I said excitedly. “How was your day love?”

“Besides having fun filming, it was pretty chill. We had to reshoot some scenes because we kept getting out of character.”

We talked a bit more about his time on set, telling me that ‘scary’ scene he had to film. I was doing my best to pay attention, but he looked so fine. All I could think about was what I could do to him if he were here.

“You seem a bit off. Everything okay?” Milo said, bringing me back to reality.

“Yeah..” I said shyly, slightly blushing.

“What’s wrong, “Y/N”?” He asked sternly.

“I– I just miss ‘you’” I said.

“I miss you too, babe. No need to be upset right now. We will see each other soon” He said with a reassuring smile.

“No, Milo.” I sighed looking down slightly embarrassed. “I miss “you”’”

Milo looked confused at first. “What? What do you me-” He got quiet and his eyes widened. “Oh…”

“I-i’m sorry. I s-should go. I made this awkward.”

“Babe, no. Just caught me off guard. I never imagined you having these thoughts. You’re so innocent.” He said with a smirk.

“I’m not sure why I need you this way. I just do. This whole week has been crazy.”

“Well… “ He said “If it makes you feel any better… I miss “you” too.” He said using his hands to air a quote on ‘you”

I felt my cheeks get hot. “Really?”

“You have no idea. You left your mark on me before I left. Remember? I couldn’t stop thinking how wild you were” He said.

We did go crazy before he left—the best one for sure. 

I giggled. “Sorry about that. But no regrets” 

“Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?” He asked. 

I looked at him in shock. “H-how?”

“ Rub yourself.” He demanded.

Me being a good girl and started to do so. I took off my shorts and underwear and began to back my laptop. The angle of the camera can see my whole body now. I laid my back against the bedboard and spread my legs open. I grabbed a little bit of lotion and began rubbing myself. 

Slight moans came out of my mouth.

“Fuck babe” Milo groaned. “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

“Do the same, Milo,” I demanded him.

He set his phone down against something and started pulling down his joggers. He sat up on his bed. His dick is so hard. His tip throbbing. 

“You’re happy to see me,” I said and winked at him.

“I-I always am” as he began to stroke himself. “I want to f-feel you, babe. Me pinning you d-down bed. Pounding you from behind.” 

I rubbed myself a bit faster and started to let out some moans. “M-Milo. I-I need you in me. I want to r-ride you so b-bad.” 

He bit his lip trying not to moan loudly. “Take your shirt off.” He demanded again.

I raised my shirt. I wasn’t wearing my bra, so my breasts were exposed to him. 

“O-oh G-god, Y/N” he moaned. “I remember how much they bounced when I was pounding you.”

“I w-wish y-o-o-u were sucking on them r-right now.”

I saw him roll his head back.“F-fuck, Y/N” He moaned. “Finger yourself and Moan my name for me. Think of me fucking you right now.” He kept stroking himself.

I inserted two fingers like he would and moaned his name louder each time I pumped them in and out. I kept thinking of how he would fuck me so hard right now. He moaned slightly louder this time.

“I-I-I’m close, baby” He whimpered out and picked up his pace. 

“Me too” I groaned. I rubbed myself in the right spot and finished in my hand. I was panting.

I noticed Milo finished and was out of breath too. 

“That was something: he said slightly laughing. I giggled at his comment.

“Yeah. It really was.” 

“Hold on… I … ummm… gotta clean my mess” He said. 

I nodded. “Me too” We left the call open but went to clean ourselves up quickly. Once we were done we returned to our call.

“I miss you even more now…” He said.

“Almost time babe. Just three more weeks.” I said.

“We might have to do that again sometime soon. You look so beautiful moaning my name like that.”

“Milo!” I said, slightly blushing.

“Oh I’m sorry,” He said in a playful voice “Is the girl who mentioned she missed me fucking her acting innocent now?”

I rolled my eyes at him “Haha, very funny”

“Well…. Just know your dreams will become true very soon” He said and winked at the camera.

I have been counting down the days for that anyway. “I hope so. If not, I will just have to do it myself” I smirked at him.

He acted offended.”Don’t you dare.” 

“I’m just saying.” I giggled.

He yawned. “I’m tired now babe. Ima head to bed. I have to wake up early to film some more. I’ll text ya in the morning.”

“That’s fine love. Get some rest.”

“Goodnight babe. I love you so much, beautiful.” He said as he blew a kiss at me and waved at the camera.

I blew a kiss at him “Good night! I love you too, handsome.”

We ended the call.

I went to bed that night feeling relaxed and happy after that exciting call. Now, I have to wait for the real thing soon.

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NOTE: I am posting this at midnight. I started working this Friday afternoon but was too busy to finish it. It's not my best as I have not written anything smut. But I'll see how it goes.

Time for bed for me.... Goodnight yall! :)

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

Alien Force Ben: Was he really that mature?

I want to talk about something that’s been on my mind for a while. Fans complain about how Ben was super mature in early AF before regressing into an arrogant “man-child” in S3, UA and OV but I don’t think the change was as drastic as people say. Ben was never the super stoic, mature character they think he was. A lot of his behavior was fairly consistent, even if some of it was flanderized in the later sequels. People can have their critiques of his character writing, I have some myself, but I think the version of Ben people romanticize wasn’t as much of a Gary Stu as they remember.

For starters, Ben could still be kind of a asshole, especially to Kevin, which was somewhat justified due to his criminal past. He took potshots at him in “Kevin’s Big Score”, both before and after he stole the Rustbucket. In “The Gauntlet” he had fun messing with Gwen and Kevin as Goop and later laughed at Kevin after seeing him get beat up by Cash. In that same episode, he goofed around when trying smoothie combinations as pictured above. He also enjoyed annoying Kevin by playing with his car lock in Verdona’s debut. There was also “Darkstar Rising” where he made an insensitive joke that caused Kevin to lash out at him after getting his plumber badge confiscated.

Before I continue, I’d like to say that I’m not doing this to vilify Ben or make him into a heartless monster like some do. I’m kin with the asshole and consider him one of my favorite characters. This is just me pointing out that early AF Ben was never the perfect mature person that he’s remembered as and could still be goofy and had some of those same flaws that Ultimate Alien Ben gets dragged for. I headcanon him as having autism because while he’s very compassionate, empathy is not his strong suit which isn’t a bad thing nor does it make someone a bad person. I sort of incorporated that into my fanfic where Ben and Steven Universe grate on each other before bonding because of their differing personalities with the former realizing how insufferable he can come off as.

Then there’s “Pet Project”. For starters, Ben lied about having homework to get out of going to the mall and so he could watch a movie. Not much different from what he does in “Duped” or “The Perfect Girlfriend”. He also shows a distrust of Ship and doesn’t seem to care about him until Gwen and Kevin force him to which remained consistent through S3 and UA.

Ben acted as mature as he did during the Highbreed war because with Max gone and his team as their only hope, he had to be the adult in that situation. By S3 with peace established and Max out of retirement and proven to be alive, he could let his guard down a bit. He said himself in “Absolute Power” that he has fun “but when the situation got serious” so did he. In UA, when Aggregor injured Max and Kevin mutated again, Ben was forced to act as leader again, hence why he was back to acting mature in that arc. Kids IRL who are forced to be adults far younger than they should be do often struggle with regression later on.

Again, none of this was to vilify Ben or make him into douchebag. I just feel like his character isn’t as inconsistent as people say it is. Could the writing have been better? Sure but early AF Ben wasn’t a mature, always serious saint and he always had those flaws or personality quirks, even before fame got to his head in season 3 and UA. If you disagree and think they ruined his character after, that’s fine, this is just how I interpret him.