#ill just stay strong tomorrow and not get drunk and then pop some of my good sleeping pills at like eleven

[actual-changeling]

good god my sleep schedule is fucked, 6:30 am and my meds should be kicking in but they're not and i really need to fix this

[anonymous-girl37]

Here is my story.

Most stories tend to start with things being normal, however, for this one, it is honestly a clusterfuck of bullshit with a little bit of normalcy thrown in to give me the illusion of stability. Even when I was only nine, I remember fun and family activities were never really with just her and us- it was always with somebody else there to motivate her. I sort of had to raise Katie and Kylie on my own at some points. She took care of us technically speaking; she didn’t starve us or anything, she just wasn’t available for the emotional side of being a parent. The parts that kids grow up to remember, unfortunately for us.

One of the best examples of her neglectful care for us was around that time... Me being around age… eight? Nine? It all blurs together at some points, but the point is I was young.

My mom always takes naps, they last a whole ten minutes sometimes, but she’s always tired, maybe she’s sick. Whenever she’s sleeping, she says I get to play house with my sisters and pretend I’m the mom. My favorite is when she drives to the store for candy for us because then I make the rules for extra long. I get to make them lunch and play outside. Sometimes she lets me read them stories before their nap time, which is mommy’s relaxing time, so I get the whole rest of the house to myself. I get to make all the rules, dad never lets me do that. He doesn’t know, mommy said it’s our secret. I hate when she doesn’t get her naps in because then she’s grumpy. She went away for a whole week and she hasn’t taken a nap or been grumpy since she got back, maybe the doctors did surgery and fixed her. She’s even taking us to the park while dad’s at work tomorrow.

It’s been a week now, mommy was going to take us swimming but she said her head hurt too much, and the next day we were supposed to play in the woods but she needed to take a nap, and it was almost time for dinner when she woke up. Dad couldn’t know she was napping again, or he’d make her go away for a long time she said. She tells me I’m a good secret keeper. Maybe tomorrow she will let us go swimming.

Mommy’s been back home for two weeks and her medicine already stopped working, I wish it worked for longer cause I miss when mommy was fun. Mommy loves when I play house with my little sisters, but sometimes I get tired of it. I have to listen to her anyway. She’s better than dad because she doesn’t have any stupid rules. All dad ever does is work, we only get to play with him for a little bit after work and on the weekends.

It wasn’t something that stopped, her shitty “parenting” if you can even call it that, never improved. I was 12 years old popping Klonopin like candy, with her permission of course. Not only was she okay with me taking drugs, but she also fueled my addiction with her prescription. At least she was generous with her pills, however, she had plenty enough to share. She got a script of 90 a month from one doctor and 60 a month from another. She was good at pretending to have illnesses for drugs, and trust me, it’s extremely escalated since then. I don’t know who else she gave them away to, but when she ran out she always found a way to get more. Pills were more important to her than us having new clothes, and undergarments. She cared more about pills than saving money to do fun stuff with my sisters and me. She only ever wanted to be high, and she was so good at hiding it. She had our whole family fooled for years. She lived and still does live a life of lies. She sucks the life out of everyone she’s near. She sucked the life out of me. She had me becoming friends with kids who dealt drugs, It was a messy situation all around, I hung around people much older than me, I did drugs with men almost twice my age, however, usually Nicole was around for that part. At least she didn’t leave me alone with strange men, before the age of 13, I guess that was the cut-off. She decided I was mature enough, old enough, to hang out with men 8 years older than me. Luckily I had someone to protect me. Anthony tried to at least, to help me become my best. He wasn’t much better off than me in regards to a mother and he had a terrible drug problem. We experienced the same things in different ways. It felt like everything I went through, he did before me. Our lives were nowhere near identical. He grew up with his grandfather who fucked him out of his childhood, quite literally. I was addicted to Xanax, but that was nowhere near strong enough for his need to forget. Heroin was his kryptonite, he couldn’t get enough of it, but no matter how high he was, or how dope sick he was because he couldn’t find any, he made sure I was okay, he told me he loved me. Every day, that was the first thing I would hear him say. Our entire lives were straight ahead of us. He was poetic and artistic, and everything he said to me sounded like a quote from a book. He wanted his story heard, and he wanted me to be the one to hear it. It feels like I’m now responsible for telling the world. He never wanted anyone to know him, just who he was. He wasn’t all happy, and nice, he was a total asshole sometimes, I’m not sure that he was even aware. The love we had was one I’ll never forget though.

I’ve dropped my bottle and there’s broken glass on the ground now. I guess that’s what I get for being lost in these thoughts. It cut my leg but I can’t feel it. The glass reminds me of him. It reminds me of the night all of us got drunk and they were smashing glass bottles on the concrete. He screams “whoever runs through it gets $20 and this” as he’s holding a ½ empty bottle of rum. And some other guy told him he’d give home $100.00 to do it. So he runs through the things, falls, and has glass stuck from his feet to his knees. I’ll never forget that smell, blood, and vodka. I spent damn near two hours pulling glass out of his legs and feet and bandaging them up.

July Summer 2017

Today had to have been the best day of my life. Anthony took me to our spot, and we talked for hours, about nothing and everything, as always. We’re getting sober together. We’re going to do it. We promised. Today marks 1 day clean. Weed is an exception because fuck quitting that. I would do anything to make this man happy. I’ve known for a long time that he loves me, but today made me realize how much I truly love him too. I’m happy with him. My life is chaotic right now, but he’s my calm. He’s my peace. I can’t wait for the day we never have to leave each other again.

August 11 summer 2017

We’ve been sober for a month today. I want to go to this back to school party but Anthony is being a little bitch about it. I’ll convince him to go.

August 12 summer 2017

He died. On purpose. I made him go to the party and he overdosed. I thought he was just drunk. We cuddled on the porch swing until he fell over into my lap. He laid in my lap for 20 minutes before I knew. He had no pulse. He left a note in my back pocket. I can’t bring myself to look at it. I want to get rid of it.

My god damn room is a mess. Today marks 3 years since I lost the love of my life. I'm already drunk and it’s only 10 a.m. and of course, I, the drug addict, would take pills on a day like today. He would be so disappointed, but it’s finally come the time I read his suicide note, it’s finally the day, I’ve worked up the courage, I can do it. I need to do it. I must lock my door again, I can’t have another interruption. The door could’ve become unlocked. It’s locked, I’ve re-locked it twice now. I never imagined sitting on my bed, reading his note, his last words, whilst I’m a high and drunk mess. You’ll have that though, one of the greatest things Nicole ever taught me was to mask my feelings with drugs. I owe it to him. To read his last words. His voice still deserves to be heard.

Katrina,

I’m so sorry. I can’t keep doing this. I still kneel in the shower, and put my face down, letting the water puddle in my hands as if they could grow big enough to protect me from myself. The pain hits me randomly, it’s like I know I have lungs and I must be able to breathe, but I can’t, the air refuses to come. To this day, I get flashbacks, and I hate the feeling. It’s not normal. These are things you can’t forget. You want to rot because it’s better than being beat than being hurt. I have trouble believing anyone when they tell me they love me, but it’s easier with you. You told me I was your happiness and I gave you butterflies. My depression, my struggle, and my addiction gave you the determination to fight to make me happy. I’m sorry, but things are getting bad again. I should have never begun putting you through my pain. I don’t want help, I don’t want you to kill yourself fighting to save me, and I know you would if I didn’t stop you. You may not see it, and I doubt you will agree, but I’m doing what’s best. You have given me the greatest possible love, you have so much going for you, and you’re still so full of life, don’t lose that. Stay clean for me. I can’t fight anymore. Maybe that makes me a coward, but being a coward to the world is better than the pain that never leaves me, I’m tired of living in my hell. My eyes are full of tears writing this, and I can barely read. I owe my temporary feelings of joy to you. Anyone who knows me knows that if someone out there was going to save me, it would have been you. I can’t go on showering you in my pain, I can see the hurt in your eyes when you look at me. I hurt you because I’m so hurt I don’t know how to breathe anymore. If I die tonight, know that it’s for the best. Know that I haven’t truly been alive in a long time, that’s if I ever was at all. Don’t ruin yourself over me. Tell yourself what we had wasn’t real. Repeat to yourself that I never really loved you until you believe it. I treated you like a project, I manipulated you. Fool yourself into hating me. Because you’re going to see me in every single person. You’ll see some piece of me In everyone you meet. I know you, you’re going to look for me, whether you know you are or not, you’re going to seek me. If all of the words you said were true, you’re never going to give up looking for someone like me, you won’t find him. Find someone better. Find someone who fulfills you. You deserve a man who gives you the world even when he is falling apart. You deserve a love that doesn’t end, I want you to have those feelings again. I’m begging you not to look for me, I’m gone. I’m sorry that you’re never going to stop seeing pieces of me. Look for the good qualities, but I’m sure you’ll find the bad ones too. You’ll find my sense of humor in every funny movie, and all the chick flicks will remind you of our love. You’ll find my eyes in the face of a stranger and you’ll see my smile on little kids playing at the park. I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not. I was never sober. I told you I was because I knew if I got you started I could live with myself for leaving.

In reading this I thought I’d feel relieved, possibly ready to let the last of him go. But now I’m lost, more so than before. Now I’m angry, not with him, but with the world. You can’t hate someone for killing themselves, but you can hate the world for making them do it. You can hate the god or goddess or gods or goddesses you do or don’t believe in for letting it happen. I want to hate him, but I can’t because he’s not here, he took away my power to hate him, and so now I hate everything else. I hate everyone else. He wasn’t lying when he said I would see him in everyone. I see his good qualities somewhere in everyone, I see his bad qualities in every bad person but, I see him in everyone. It’s like when he died he became the universe, the universe swallowed him whole and he left a part of him in everyone. He picked who got his best qualities as if he knew I would find them. I do see his smile on the little kids playing at the park. I see his eyes in the only other man I’ve ever truly loved, they’re not the same, but the feelings in them are similar. I find his humor in every comedy. Sometimes I think maybe what he said was true, that he’d always be there for me whether physically present or not, because sometimes, on some of my worst days, I feel him. For just a minute, I can let myself pretend he isn’t gone. I can let myself pretend he never left this earth. Then my whole world comes crashing right back down. He swore to me he was sober. He promised. I think he only lied so I would be okay. I resent him for telling me to hate him. Because I can’t hate him, I want to so badly, but It’s impossible. Any pain he put me through was nothing compared to how he felt.

That's enough about him for now, as we're going to have to re-open that discussion later. Peach vodka sounds fantastic right now, I'll have a whipped pinnacle and peach smoothie. I could not have possibly made it any stronger than it is. Thank god for mind-altering substances, because quite frankly, I would be dead without them.

Nicole, if you're reading this, how did you do what you did? How were you content with yourself in the way you raised my sisters and me? Did you plan it all, or did you just go with the flow and lie when necessary? You never left a bruise, hell, you never even hit us. You scarred us permanently though, my sisters may not see it yet, but I do. Instead of giving us scars that would heal physically and show your crimes, you gave us invisible ones. The ones that people will deny us having for the rest of our lives. The ones that will always haunt us when we see you. You gave us scars that we can't get covered up with a pretty tattoo. You may not have hurt them as badly as me, but they don't deserve your games. I don't want them to experience even half of what I did.

Her games have left me empty, shallow, broken, and confused. I'm not confused about what she did or who she is, I'm confused about why. Why wasn't I good enough to deserve her love and compassion? What did I do so wrong? Why was I the one chosen to take on her role and try to fix my own life, and protect myself from someone who was supposed to protect and love me? I was forced to grow up so she could go backward. She wanted to live vicariously through me as if she wanted to become me. Everything I did, she did too. All the drugs I did, she just had to try, sometimes do them with me. Nothing was too far for her. She never told my dad though, "don't let your father find out" she would constantly imbed that into my head, it got to the point where I had become two people. One for my mother and one for my father. I remember breaking down one day, crying to myself because I felt like no one knew me and I didn't know who I was, and it was at that moment that I lost my sense of self. I'll probably never know who I am, or why. I have no clue who I want to be. I don't know how to become someone for myself, I've learned to feel as if I must adapt to everyone else.

Nicole told me everything and I mean everything. You may think, "oh that's not so bad, she's being open." Perhaps there are some things you should never tell your children. Some people should never be parents.

She loved to tell me how she was going to be so lost and sad when her "babies"(children all over the age of 10) leave her(by this she meant to grow up and go to school). How she liked sleeping around with all kinds of different men because it was fun and she was good at manipulating them. She told me about her sexual experiences and I wish she wouldn't have sometimes. She told me all kinds of things about her sex life, even asked for my commentary on the experience. Then later she changed many of her stories and said she was raped which had made me feel responsible if that's what had happened because I knew so maybe I should have known. She told me about the men she was dating and even introduced me to some, made sure I knew them well. Her 38-year-old boyfriend talked dirty to me, and the 36-year-old boyfriend did drugs with me, while we were living with him. He was a big mess, but not abusive. However, as soon as she got tired of him she claimed he beat her. She claimed he was abusive so that everyone would pity her. But, she was a liar. He never hurt her. I would have seen it, I would have known. Once again, she had made me question my entire life.

I know about everyone she hates though there aren't many. Now whether it was authentic or a horrible attempt at making me feel sympathy for her, I truly didn't know. I hate knowing everything and having been forced to be her diary, being forced to let her live through me, but she changed me to be what her idea of a kid was. It wasn't a kid at all. She refused to fix any of her problems, no matter how hard I tried to help her, she just wanted to be responsibility-free forever, and I got in the way of that, so she made me her excuse to act like a child. She forced herself to puke and bragged about it. Talking about how much weight she could lose and how quickly. It gave me my sort of eating disorder of feeling strong or like I achieved something by how much I was able to puke up. Still to this day, it's some stupid competition in my head. Drugs are her favorite, they were then too. At Least then it was just Benzos, weed, and hallucinogens. I was the only one who knew, that was stressful, keeping that secret. She constantly made me be someone I wasn't, and she forced me to be someone else for my dad. But I never did know who I was. There was "party secret keeper" me and there was "the most innocent child to exist" me, but I never knew who "me" was without being forced to put on an act one way or another.

chapter 3: The worst of you.

You broke my heart, but I should have known it was coming. It was too often that I looked into your pretty green-blue ocean eyes just to find them glazed over in a drug-induced haze. The last month with you made up for the years of torture. The torture of not knowing where you were or who you were with. Watching you burst into nothing but rage because you couldn’t find your next fix. I never wanted anything but to save you. And when you offered to be sober so long as I was, of course, I took you upon it. I thought you meant it, though I always had my doubts. 3 am is when most of our story was told. You called me every morning at 3, without a doubt, I could always expect that.

July 21st, 2017.

Time 3:00 am

I wake up in your arms and lay there silently as I’m sure you dream peaceful dreams that match the calm state of your face, I still see the shadow of mental exhaustion under your eyes. I breathe slowly, as to not disrupt your sweet dreams. I love you.

July 22nd, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You open your beautiful ocean blue-green eyes to start the beginning of your new adventure. Our fingers intertwined, our eyes locked as if we couldn’t look away. I couldn't ask for a better feeling. I love you.

July 23rd, 2017

Time 3:00 am

The scent of chocolate fills the room. It happens to be your favorite drink, surprisingly, hot chocolate, a drink no one would expect someone like you to like. A half-smile spreads across your face, the smile that tells me at this moment you’re happy. I love you.

July 24th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

I hold you close, but maybe not close enough, feeling the warmth and comfort of your body against mine made me happy though. You make me feel complete. I love you.

July 25th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You wake me up with a small forehead kiss. You seem to be happy today. That makes me smile. I love you.

July 26th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

The ring sits perfectly on my finger. With it, I promise you I’ll be okay, and I’ll follow our dreams. You have to leave soon, but I don't want you to leave. I never do. I love you.

August 5th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You're restlessly tossing and turning, I’m sure you haven't slept yet, you’re still withdrawing. I lean over and put my arm across you and place my body against yours. I worry because I wake up to the sound of you crying every time we sleep together. I try to pull you into me and you rest your head on my chest and quietly sob, pretending you’re just sleeping so I won’t notice. You’re stuck in this terrible life. I’m sorry. I love you.

August 6th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

Laying on the couch. I could see you staring at the wall, I felt you caressing my hand, softly. You kiss my cheek softly and then give me a warm smile. I see the pain in your eyes. It shatters my soul more every single second I look at you. You have to leave again soon. I want you to stay with me. I love you.

August 7th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You look like you've been crying for hours. I'm afraid you’re not okay again. I know you won’t tell me. I love you

August 8th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

you tell me that you don't want to get out of bed today. You tell me that you love me and that you're gonna be okay. I should know better but I believe you because I want to. I love you.

August 9th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You look like you’re on drugs again, but you won’t tell me that. Your face is pale and you’re always shivering. I love you.

August 10th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

I have yet to see you smile. You look at me over video chat and I know that you're fighting it, you can’t wait to congratulate me on one month of sobriety, and I can’t wait to congratulate you. In-person. Your kisses are always soft but lately, they have a chill to them. The warmth from you has disappeared, I’m worried that you want drugs again. You told me “I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not.” That makes me feel better. Maybe a party will cheer you up, I have a surprise planned for you tonight. I love you.

August 11, 2017

Time 6:00 am

You died at 1:53 am

I tried to wake you up but you don't stir. The party went silent. The pain in my chest is excruciating. I shook you and your rubber-banded bag fell to the floor. I hugged you harder as if it could bring you back. There is nothing I could do but cry. 15 minutes later I dialed 9-1-1 but I couldn’t speak, I cried so hard that no sound could even come out anymore. The sobs were so quiet they were loud. The ambulance got there, they put you on a stretcher. At first, I refused to let go of you, holding onto your hand, hugging your body with mine as if I could give you the life in me. It was so cold. D.O.A. I love you... The bed feels empty with you gone. The couch feels too big without you next to me. And the porch swing looks like a grave. I can’t go to the party house anymore. My hands feel cold without yours in them. I cried all night. The tears stopped coming out after a while, but I still sobbed. Your scent fills my nose and I cry more. I could have saved you. I'm empty without you. I should have known better. Your last words haunt me. I’m not sober anymore, I’m sorry. The note you left, I don’t think I can ever read it. I love you.

August 3rd, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I had a dream about you. You looked so happy, your wings matched your darkness. But Seeing your smile, your real one, made me feel good, so good that you are no longer only a dark spot in my memory.

August 5th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I made your favorite, hot chocolate, and a bacon peanut butter sandwich. I wish you had a grave, but they turned you to ash and put you god knows where. Even though you aren't here, the universe still reminds me of you. Even though I know you won't be waking up this time. I love you.

August 10th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I went to our spot today. I cried when I got home, I hurt so bad. I miss you more than anything. I love you. It's almost been a year.

August 11th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

The first anniversary of losing you. I refuse to accept that you’re gone. Just tell me you’re coming for me. Tell me you’re in some 3rd world country just hiding out like we always talked about, and you’re gonna come find me when I’m 18. I want this to all be a bad dream.

August 12th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

It's getting too hard to sleep. I slept in one of your t-shirts. It smelled just like your favorite cologne. I held it just like I would have held you. I love you. I miss you.

August 13th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

Your mom called to make sure I was okay, your parents are back in New England now. They miss you, it hurt to hear her cry. I guess she did love you in her way. I love you.

August 14th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I'm going crazy without you. This isn’t allowed to be real. I miss you. I miss your smell. I want you back. I love you.

August 15th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I visited our spot again yesterday. Remember what you told me? “I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not”. Those words haunt me, you spoke them the day before left me forever. I should have known. I wish I knew. Maybe then I could have saved you. I love you.

August 16th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I can't stand being without you anymore. I love you.

August 11th, 2019

Time 3:00 am

It’s been two years. I miss you more than I ever thought was humanly possible. Please come back. I think I’m in love again. It scares me, but I know you’d like him.

August 12th, 2019

Time 3:00 am

No one gets that you weren’t the best thing in the universe, that you were an asshole sometimes, you weren’t always a good person. But you were good. You made life something more than it was and you showed me who I could be. You showed me who I am, in your own fucked up way that included you dying. And for that, I owe you.

August 3rd, 2020

Time 3:00 am

I've finally read the note you left me. I read it over and over. I’m crying so much writing this I can’t even see. Come back. I miss you. I love you.

August 5th, 2020

Time 3:00 am

Why did you have to go and do that? This all must be a fucking joke. I love you.

August 8th, 2020

Time 3:00 am

The day that marks 3 years since you left me is coming up quickly. I don’t want it to come. I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to accept this. I miss our talks at our spot. I love you.

August 11th, 2020

Time 1:53 am

It’s been 3 years. Today is terrible. Come back. I love you.

I guess your anger is just as much a part of your story as your love. You loved me, that much everyone who knew you knew, but you had a funny way of showing it sometimes. The drugs clouded your memory, or at least you wanted me to think they did. Like the time you shot at someone who stole off of you. Your excuse was being high, but not until you knew how much it scared me. I’m not sure what you thought would happen had you shot him, but I don’t think you cared regardless. Maybe you always knew what you were doing, and you were too tired to control yourself. No matter what, a part of me will always be infatuated with you and a piece of my heart will always belong to you. Our story is one I can never forget, but as time goes on I see more flaws, I find more wrongdoings, and I learn to love you less.

Chapter 4

How have we gotten to this point? I woke up today in a great mood, but of course, Nicole couldn’t allow that. It’s been months since I spoke to her, but she’s pinned my best friend and his mother against me. She and her so-called husband say I told them I was going to turn them in. My best friend who deals drugs, and his mother who condones it and takes part. I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you, friends, with these people? Quite frankly, I don’t know, I guess I always have been. My best friend, Aaron, was the first guy I ever had a crush on. He was the only person who showed up to my 13th birthday party and he never did me wrong. He took my weed virginity, and he stuck up for me. He didn’t let kids bully me, though they sure tried. He didn’t back down, sometimes it felt like he was the only person on my side. If it weren’t for him my middle school experience would not have been nearly as mediocre as it was. At some points in life, he was all I had, and still, to this day, I can go to him with whatever and he does his best to help. Though, ever since Nicole started her bullshit and I told the police about her abuse, she has been trying to sway him to take her side. She’s good at doing that, she knows how to manipulate just about anyone. She had our entire family fooled for years, had them convinced she wasn’t a terrible person or on drugs.

I guess now is a good time to bring up Josh, the man who took my virginity, if you want to put it that nicely. By that I mean the 19-year-old who forcibly had sex with 13-year-old me, whilst I was high on pills in Victoria’s closet. Victoria was my BFF, we did everything together, mostly drugs. Sometimes random friends of friends would stay at her house, and one time we made a huge mistake. I still remember the feeling, being dragged from bed and onto the ground, through the closet doors. I can still hear how loud the sliding door shut. I remember how it felt, my clothes being ripped off of me, sloppily and just good enough for him to get to where he wanted. He clasped his hand around my throat to keep me pinned down as if I wasn’t already paralyzed by the pills he offered me. Surely I took them, I was too high to know better. I didn’t feel anything, but that was the torture of it. I knew what was happening, and I was unable to stop it. My body was motionless, but he got off on it. His evil grin and cold eyes are permanently ingrained in my brain, I’ll never forget his face because that’s all I could look at. I’ll never forget it because I’m forced to remember. Good thing I never felt it, I’m sure that would be a whole other nightmare. I’m sure you’re wondering how this relates to Nicole, but let me tell you, I told her about the invasion of my body, and she doubted me. I told her what happened and she told me I was wrong. She told me I wasn’t that high, I could have stopped it if I didn’t want it. She told me I wanted it. I the 13-year-old, of course, believed my mom, only to figure out it was sexual assault 2 years later. Nicole of course did absolutely nothing, as per usual. She could have saved me that night. I called her, I wanted to go home because I didn’t feel safe and I thought I was too high, she came and saw me, she told all the people there I was fine, even went as far as saying I was faking it. Maybe she’s the reason I got raped that night, maybe he took my silence as consent because he thought I was sober. Maybe he was rough because he thought my silence meant I liked it. Maybe I only imagined saying stop, perhaps it never came out of my mouth. Or perhaps my pleas to stop convinced him to continue. How could I know anyways? I was in a drug-fueled haze, maybe I remember wrong and I never said stop. I guess that’s the downfall of getting high, you never know what happened. Everything is foggy and the details are blurry. It’s like trying to remember a dream after you wake up, you wonder what happened and the longer you’re awake the blurrier the memory gets. The longer you’re sober, the blurrier your high adventures become. Just because I’ve been thinking about this long enough to write it down, anxiety is jolting through my veins. It starts at the back of my throat, pushing its way up from the inside out, a sting that becomes so much more. The line between what is fear and what is real is becoming blurrier by the second. It feels as if my words are stuck in my throat, stopping me from screaming, from letting my feelings out. This is my brain's way of telling me my words aren’t worth much right now, quite frankly it’s not wrong. He tore my soul to pieces as my pleas ran through his mind as “convince me” “keep going” “I like it”. I can still see his cold, hungry eyes in my dreams sometimes. Imagining his face sends shivers down my spine as I continually play what he did to me over and over again as if something could change the more I think into it. He broke me, crushed my being, my soul, and outright stole my voice. I can’t possibly continue to look at myself in disgust over this man, because it is he who should rot, not me. I’m worth more than becoming the perfect victim, I choose to be a victor. Sometimes I don't think I can do it, my motivation is wanting to be further in life than anyone who has ever hurt me, and I'm already there.

Chapter 5: The Man Who Loved Me Once

The man who loved me once, the one who broke my heart into pieces. Leo tore me to pieces, but I thought I was in love with him. It took a month in a psychiatric facility to conclude that he never loved me. I was 15 with a 21-year-old man. He convinced me it was okay along with Nicole constantly praising me for it. “Damn haha you are just like me”

February 3rd, 2018

I told him to stop, I told him no. I told him I didn't want to do this. I begged and pleaded but that meant nothing to him. He didn't stop, he didn't understand “no”, my begs and pleads for him to stop rang through his ears as “convince me”. His right hand roamed my body, It made me shiver. His left hand went between covering my mouth to shut me up, and pushing me back up against the brick wall. He kissed my lips roughly to silence me, pushing me hard against the wall. His fingers scratched into my skin, making me squirm. I couldn't move much though, the pills he put in my drink prevented me from doing that, what a lovely redo of the last man who hurt me. This one at least did not do it with people around, though it was dark, we were in a public place. He called me baby girl and told me "I am going to fuck you so good". I showered 3 times today, and no one questioned it. I did not eat anything for a few days, and no one questioned it. Maybe you did not mean to hurt me, maybe you thought I liked it. I still love you.

February 27th, 2018

He hit me today, it's not the first time. Hell, it is not even the second or third time, honestly, I have lost count. He loves me. He apologized and then we cuddled and watched a movie. He will change, I know I can fix him. He never means to hurt me. He is a good man and people do not want to try to understand. I have to cover the bruises, good thing it is winter and I can wear a hoodie every day. He makes me sad but he does not mean it. He loves me and I know it.

March 15th, 2018

Today he took me to meet his parents. I had to lie and say I was 18. I pretended I was in college. He made me. He just did not want his parents to give him shit like they always do. He said it was fine that we had an age difference. I trust him, I would do anything for him. I love him.

March 28th, 2018

Today he tried to drown me. It was my fault. I remember passing out and waking up with no clothes. I guess he put them in the dryer because they were wet. He wasn't himself when he did it, I am sure there is just something going on mentally. I can fix him. I can help him. I know he loves me. I know he can get help, I want to help him.

April 3, 2018

I saw him today, our visit was cut short because Nicole wanted me to come home. She knows about him and me, she just missed me because I have been at friends’ houses and with Leo all week. He was pretty mean today, he grabbed me by the throat and I am beginning to think that he needs more help than I can give him. My throat is sore and it is bruised on the side. I will have to wear my hair down. He loves me so much that the pain is worth it. I do not want to lose him. The way he strokes my hair and holds me, while he is apologizing after he has done something that harmed me is so sweet. I love it when he buys me flowers and sometimes he is good for a while. The pain is worth it for the love.

April 8th, 2018

He raped me. He put a glass bottle inside of me, and my vagina bled. He got me drunk, and we started making out, then he fucked me, relentlessly, roughly. He bruised me. In between my legs. My dad picked me up, it was the worst experience of my life. I still love him and I do not want to anymore. I am being punished for it because Nicole will not tell my dad she knew everything. I am being punished for being raped. I am broken. I need help.

April 24th, 2018

I spent nearly a month in a psychiatric facility, it has helped me a lot. My roommate was awesome. I had a nurse in there, a youngish, beautiful, and kind African American woman, she is the reason I am still alive. I am so grateful to have met that woman and another one of the therapists there. It has helped me so incredibly much. I hate that I am still being punished for being raped because I was not, not allowed there. I had permission. I did not do anything without my mom's permission, yet she and my dad punished me for being raped. As in it was my fault. As if I did it to myself. How was I supposed to know any better with Nicole telling me it was okay? I have grown to hate my dad, I make sure he knows it and I feel no remorse for what I say. He sucks and I wish I was just with my mom. I still love Leo, but he never loved me, except once.

I have grown so much since then. I used to think so highly of Nicole. I thought it was awesome to have a mom that helps you sneak around and break rules. I thought so highly of her and I wanted to be exactly like her. I wanted to smoke and drink and be high all of the time because I thought it was so cool. I thought it was normal at that. I just could not realize that she was no good. My dad was the only one who wanted what was best for me, and still to this day he does. He was the one who saw how poorly I was doing and made an effort towards getting me better. He did not even know half of it and from the time he found out and forward, he gave me all of the acceptance and care and love I needed. I regret ever being so mean to him. I know you are wondering what the hell I said to him, so I will make a list.

-I hate you

-You are a terrible dad

-I will never speak to you again

-You are the reason I am so messed up

-I never want to see you again, you suck and I fucking hate you, don't you dare tell me to watch my mouth, you don't get to tell me what to do because you aren't my dad anymore {then I called him by his first name}

-I do not want you in my life

I hate myself for the things I said to my dad. He is one of the kindest, most caring, and genuinely good human beings I know. He does everything he can to make sure my sisters and I can have what we want. He has a job therefore a steady income. He gets us any reasonable thing we want. I am so lucky to have a dad like him because not everyone gets a good dad, I love my dad. He and I finally have an amazing father, daughter relationship and I feel so much better. I wish I never said those hurtful awful things to him, I wish that Nicole never ingrained my brain with lies about him making him seem bad. Now my sisters are saying very similar but even meaner hurtful things to my dad. He does so well for them and they hate him because Nicole is good at brainwashing.

Dad, if you are reading this, I want you to know, it was never your fault for anything that happened. You could not have known, Nicole manipulates well. I love you and you are an awesome dad.

My mind is in a muddle. I can not seem to think straight for some reason. Nicole manipulated me so much I question my trauma. she told my dad and me that I faked being raped so I would not be in trouble. When I went to the party, she said it was real for a while, until it was no longer convenient for her to use. "My poor baby, I feel so bad seeing my daughter shower 5 times a day". Then when it was not getting her attention anymore, she said I was lying.

I wish I knew what to do with the thoughts that are flooding my brain right now. Once you become happy, and you come to be at peace with yourself, you can be okay. However, your demons stick with you forever. Once an addict, always an addict, but that does not make you a bad person. It shows how strong you are when you get sober. Your demons follow you, but you can restrain them, you can imprison them and throw them into the back of your brain. That alone makes you a survivor. Being a victim of rape and having PTSD is just the same. It is hard to suppress the memories, and it is even harder to work through them, but it is possible, I know it is because I am doing it. Your demons follow you, you have to realize that they do not own you.

Nicole is part of the reason I am mentally ill. I hate her for that. I hate her for many things. I wish her the worst. However, I am not going to let her win. I do not hate her, I hate what she did, I hate the way she groomed me into her idea of a good daughter. I hate how she manipulated me into believing my dad was no good, and he drank too much and he ignored us on the weekends for shooting/hunting. I regret not letting my dad have a relationship with me for years. She is not winning this one. I hate everything she did, but I will leave it to someone else to hate her because I am sure other people do.

I have always been in love with Leo, but as time passes by, I realize that nothing he did was good or okay. He was only ever "nice" to manipulate me. I wish I had known then what I know now. I am slowly getting over him and trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts about him. He was like a drug, and I got addicted.

My current boyfriend is amazing, and I could not have asked for someone better.

Chapter 6: This Is Today

Hypomania can be nice, I was hypomanic for like a month, keyword fucking “was”. I’d like to clear the misconception that mania means you’re happy, it doesn’t. I can’t be confrontational right now because no matter what it’s about I’m approaching it like a fight even if you’re approaching it like a discussion. It’s one hell of a fucking high and if you’ve ever done hard drugs you know that it’s usually not good the whole time you’re on a binge after a week or so. You know it’s more intense the more you do and the less you can function. Mania is such an intense thing that it makes you feel like you are on drugs when you aren’t, and as someone who used to do a lot of them, that’s scary, because it brings back so many memories, and for me, that fuels the mania more, it is just feeding the fire. Okay, so imagine like a 2-month long drug binge or drinking (alcohol) binge with the given random withdrawals and mood swings, The comedowns, and the intense parts where you think you’re on top of the world and life could not possibly get better.. Okay? Now imagine having no control over when you feel like you’re coming down when you feel high or drunk when you feel hungover when you are high or drunk at all. Imagine 24/7 constant torture of not knowing what’s next. Don’t fucking romanticize mania, don’t romanticize this. Here I am, in my bathtub, with a bottle of cheap vodka that tastes more like the smell of hand sanitizer than any alcohol at all, and I’m on 2 bars of Xanax (I was coming up on a year sober). Here I am, hot water pouring onto my trembling body in hope that it will ease my trembling, it feels like I’ve been in here for days and it’s only been hours, yet all of my tears are gone. I’ve drained myself of tears and I can’t seem to cry anymore. It's just a dull sob, heavy breathing, shaky hands, a blotchy face, and a trembling body. You think my symptoms would be numbed but I feel like they’re more lifelike now. I feel trapped within them, as if they own me, just like he owned me. I wish I could say he never did but for a while there I was stuck in his abyss. I haven’t slept in way too fucking long. Yes, I am on meds, no they are not working. I’m talking to my psychiatrist as soon as I can. Last night and these past few hours(it’s 3:48 a.m.) have been terrible, I’ve been up talking and pacing and shaking and crying all night in utter paranoia full of what I'm self-aware enough to know are only delusions, going from laughter to crying excessively to panic attacks that feel like the end of the world, to pouring my heart out to a girl I’ve been friends with for a week and telling her all of my trauma(shout out to you dude thank you) to trying to buy fucking animals(specifically a monkey) off of the Internet. Even though I only collectively have $6.00. Mania is embarrassing yourself publicly or even just within your household and not fucking remembering what you did or how you did it or why. Mania is bad life choices and excessive cleaning and exhaustion and impulsivity, for example: “wanna get drunk” yeah I’m drunk rn but sure why not. “Wanna have sex?” Yeah okay “ I don’t have a condom” that’s cool just pull out or don’t I don’t care. Mania is hurting the people you love because they can see how lost you are and how broken you are and how you can’t see that you need help. Mania is researching, stalking, fucking obsessively trying to find your abuser/rapist on the internet because you’re curious as to how he’s doing. Mania is trying to convince everyone around you that you’re fine because you want to be fine because you don’t want it to happen again until you’re so not fine you can’t avoid it anymore. Sometimes you just get stuck in fucking mania and you can’t get out. Sometimes you get hypomanic and start a book then as it progresses into mania you write more and more *cough* me *cough*.

Life has never exactly been easy, and I’ve always had difficulties concluding that nothing that’s happened is my fault, and truly it is not. However, blaming myself has always been easier than blaming everyone else. In complete honesty, Nicole ruined so much of my life and damaged my psyche. The way I view the world will never be innocent, my innocence is gone and I’m not sure I could get it back if I tried to. How much of my life would have been different had I not been an addict? What if Nicole never was abusive? What if I was never raped? What if I did fewer drugs? What if I never told my dad about Nicole? I could go on with the questions, but that probably won’t get us anywhere. It’s funny to think of who I could have become. Maybe I would be a sheltered little bitch with no sense of humor or sense of self. Maybe I would still to this day be a drug addict. The what if’s don’t matter, because they are simply that, what if’s. They don’t mean anything, but my past means everything. I don’t hold grudges against anyone for anything, I try not to hate, but I do strongly dislike Nicole. I do wish she wasn’t such a raging bitch. I wish she could just stop being a piece of shit. I wish my life wasn’t destroyed, yet I am beyond thankful for how beautifully broken I am.

I'll have such loud intrusive thoughts that they feel like voices. It's like there are two people in my head sometimes 3 or 4, constantly talking over one other, and then me trying to get them to stop long enough for me to hear myself think. I will also have snippets of words, phrases, phantom sounds, or music. I begin to hear whole words, phrases, even random sounds, and parts of songs. Sometimes I don’t even know the songs. “Just shut up, no one likes you”

“do it anyway, don’t be a pussy”

“they’ll think you’re crazy, be careful who you tell”

“secret secret secret”

“stop thinking about him”

“don’t stop thinking about it”

I’m sure the thoughts, the voices I’m hearing don’t sound all that terrible, but they are. You’re probably wondering why I let them bother me.

Just imagine constantly hearing the same things over and over and over and instead of letting the voice become a redundant muttering, it becomes more meaningful every time you hear it. They become more hurtful. They become louder with every waking breath. This form of existence is painful. The world wants me to be the same thing I want to be, but I don’t know if this is even me.

I struggle a lot with that. It makes me feel like I led two lives and honestly you’re one of the only people who heard about a lot of my “high adventures” I’ll call them, and I do apologize for telling you about me doing drugs and stuff, you were too young to be hearing about that(you aren’t too young now). However, because I am an addict I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I did drugs to cope with my existence and how secret I had to keep anything that had to do with Nicole.

The voices in my head won’t shut up. They scream and yell, and go in circles taking turns talking, seeing who can be the loudest. My head is constantly racing. There is constantly something going on in my head. I just want it all to stop. The only things to drown them out are drugs. Maybe I will start taking benzos again, that calmed them last time.

[all-things-skam]

75 for Elu❤

Please continue to sent requests from this list of prompt!

75. ‘’Can you hold me?’’

Title: No tears left to cry (part II)

Ship: Skam France | Lucas Lallemant and Eliot Demaury (Elu)

If Lucas had known breakups would hurt this bad, he would’ve never let himself fall in love.

There, he said it.

He and Eliott had a beautiful love story and no one would’ve ever guessed their relationship would end after two months.

Everyone was confused when Lucas didn’t hold Eliott’s hand on Monday. Their confusion turned to misunderstanding and then shock when Lucas announce they had broken up. They looked at each other with permanent heart eyes, how come had they broke up?

Although Lucas was angry at Eliott for ending things and breaking his heart, he didn’t want to throw him under the bus and say he broke up because of his mental illness. Eliott’s mental struggles weren’t anyone’s business.

The girls pulled him in a big group hug the second he walked into the foyer, telling him they were there if he wanted to talk which warmed Lucas’s heart. He never thought he’d get so close with them, certainly not Daphné. He had avoided walking into the foyer for a couple of days, not wanting to see the painting on the wall. It brought back too many memories and he knew that if he thought of them, he would be a crying mess all over again.

He tried to spend his days with the girls to get his mind off things but it was getting tougher and tougher to deal things. He could barely feel the time passing, he just knew that things were happening around him but he had been numb to exactly what was going on.

It was now a week since Eliott decided that they should part ways and Lucas hadn’t left his teenage cave since. Everyone at the flat took care of him during this tough time. They brought him food and a shoulder to cry on. Manon even stayed in his room one night, keeping him company and holding the broken boy while he slept. He had never been this close to his roommates.If it wasn’t for them, he wouldn’t have had the will to even get out of bed and go to school. But lucky for him, Manon would wake him up with baked goods every morning. She had been his rock through this time as she also knew what it was like to experience this level of heartbreak, she was determined to help Lucas as much as she could.

“Eliott loves you. He’ll come back,” Manon had promised.

“And, if he doesn’t, I’ll help you find a fine ass to replace him,” Mika had added with wiggling eyebrows, earning an smack on the arm from Manon for being insensitive.

A hookup was the last thing Lucas needed.  Some might be into that but Lucas wasn’t. He’d rather mope for days than go seek sexual comfort from a total stranger.

His friends were good at keeping him distracted during the day - it also helped that Eliott wasn’t attending school - but the nights were where he missed Eliott the most. He would wonder how he was doing and how he was feeling. This recurring image of Eliott drawing on tear stained sheets would pop up in his mind. He often wondered if he was overreacting to everything and if Eliott was just as hurt as he was. He had cried to the point where he had no more left to shed.

On Saturday, Mika knocked on Lucas’s door. “Kitten?”

“Leave me alone, Mika,” the teenager grumbled, buried in his duvet and pillows.

The door opened and Mika walked in, uninvited, Manon following behind and taking a seat on teh edge of the bed, making Lucas question if they knew what personal space was.

“We’re all going to the poetry night to encourage Alexia, it’d be great if you joined,” Mika said. “Even Lisa is coming.”

Lucas shrugged gently pulling the covers close to him. “I’m okay here for the night. I’m tired and…I need to study for Monday.”

Mika shared a look with Manon and she took over, trying another tactic.

“Okay. It’s your choice but…Alexia would’ve really liked it if you came,” Manon added.

“I’m tired, Manon. I’ve had a long week.”

She smiled and pulled Lucas into a hug. “What if I make you a deal? If you come out with us tonight, I’ll do your portion of the house chores for the week. I know you hate cleaning the bathroom and it’s your turn this week so…”

Lucas grimaced at the thought of scrubbing the toilet. Yikes. He sighed and nodded. “I’ll come. But, only for an hour. I’m already exhausted.”

Manon and Mika grinned successfully, leaving the Lucas to himself so he could get ready.

Reluctantly, he got out of bed and put on a pair of jeans with one of Eliott’s hoodie. Mika wasn’t blind and noticed the hoodie wasn’t Lucas’s but decided not to call him out on it.

.

“You can’t come in. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Please. I have to see him.”

“He’s sleeping, you can’t-”

Hushed voices pulled Lucas from his sleep, making him groan. Was Mika drunk again? When Lucas left the café at 10pm, he was already on his third drink. Lucas was in his sleep daze so he couldn’t make out exactly what his roommates were saying. He only realized what was going on when his bedroom door was pushed open and a stumbling Eliott walked in.

“Lucas? Lucas, baby-” Eliott leaned forward, his unsteady hand bracing against the doorway.

Lucas’s breath caught in his throat, recognizing the voice. For a second he thought that he was dreaming, this couldn’t be real, could it? “‘E-Eliott?”

Through the darkness of his room, Lucas could only make out Eliott’s shadow in his doorway. It was all a little strange, he had never seen Eliott like this before. It was true that he got quite bad during his episodes but he never would be this way. His Eliott didn’t talk or walk like this, and seeing how he was behaving, Lucas knew something was up. He turned on the light of his nightstand, only to be met with the sight of someone who looked like Eliott, but someone who didn’t feel like him. Seeing him there, stumbling, barely able to stand and reeking of beer was quite a shock.

He stumbled forward on shaky legs that seemed intent on just barely keeping him standing. Lucas grew more concerned and sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “What are you doing here, it’s-” he said still unable to process everything that was happening.

“I made a mistake…I miss you Lucas. I miss you and I love you and-”

Eliott didn’t even finish his sentence before he got closer and messily climbed on Lucas’ bed, forcing himself into his arms. Lucas could clear feel the stench of alcohol growing thicker.

Mika and Manon followed Eliott into Lucas’ bedroom. The two were quite reluctant on letting Eliott back and they were determined on getting Eliott out.

Manon smiled softly at Eliott, “Listen, why don’t we just take you home and you can call Lucas and talk to him tomorrow.”

Mika was half asleep but he nodded in agreement, willing to drive in the middle of the night for Lucas’s sake.

“I need to talk to Lucas, I-”

“You’re drunk. I think it’s best if you-”

Lucas sighed and shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll…I’ll handle it. You can go back to sleep.”

Manon looked worried and hesitant, not trusting Eliott yet but Lucas’s pleasing eyes made her understand. But, Mika was still not having it. “Lucas, come on-”

“I said: I’ll handle it,” he insisted.

Manon took her leave, motioning for Mika to follow, but stayed close, in case anything happened.

The second they left his room, Lucas detached himself from Eliott, leaving a few inches between them. Even if he was content to have Eliott by his side, Lucas was still hurt. “How did you get here? How much did you drink? Are you-”

The second they left his room, Lucas detached himself from Eliott, leaving a few inches between them. Even if he was content to have Eliott by his side, Lucas was still hurt. “How did you get here? How much did you drink? Are you-”

Eliott shrugged gently. “I couldn’t sleep or breathe or do anything, I-” the tall boy said incoherently. He shifted once again towards Lucas but, this time, he laid down putting his head on Lucas’s pillow and curling up into a ball. “N-need you Lucas…”

“Eliott, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying,” Lucas said in a stern voice.

“I thought I was making the right decision but I ended up hurting us both instead. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you the way I did and- I’m sorry, Lucas. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, I-” He choked up on his tears.

The younger boy drew an intake of breath, trying to stay strong after hearing Eliott apologizing and pouring his heart out, clearly still enamoured with his ex-boyfriend. A part of him wanted to take him back, forgive him and kiss him all over but, Lucas had to stand his ground. “What you did to me.. I felt like I’d been stabbed a million times, Eliott. After everything I’ve been through with my parents, you made me question everything. I hated myself for falling for you, hated myself for even trusting you. Do you know how much you hurt me? I haven’t left this house or slept in days-”

Lucas stopped himself mid-sentence, realizing that Eliott had fallen asleep on his pillow. Shit. This was not how it was supposed to go. He had everything mapped out in his head, what he would say and how he would act. He couldn’t just let Eliott fall asleep here in his bed. He knew himself, the moment he had Eliott beside him, he would fall hard and fast for him again. All his hard work over the past week would have gone to waste.

He was determined to wake Eliott up, there was no other way. “Eliott…” he said, shaking the boy’s shoulder lightly. “Wake up. You can’t sleep here, we gotta get you back home. Or…you have to sleep out in the living room.”

He sighed in frustration as he got no response from him. Lucas knew that Eliott could be a heavy sleet. He bit his bottom lip, conflicted. Eliott looked so peaceful and according to what he had told him, he hadn’t slept in days. Lucas decided that he should just let him rest, they could talk about everything in the morning. Regardless of everything that had went down, his heart was still full of love for him.

He leaned down and gently kissed Eliott’s cheek, lips lingering on the stubbly skin for longer than needed before sinking down next to him. He was about to drift into dreamland when a sleepy voice mumbled behind him.

“Can you hold me? Please,” Eliott asked in a soft and sleepy voice.

Lucas knew that he couldn’t resist. He helped Eliott out of his jeans and jacket, pulled the duvet over them and gently wrapped his arms around him. He gently kissed his shoulder, knowing that Eliott loved it when he did that.

Soon enough, the two fell asleep in each other’s arms as they felt like they were at home once again.

They can talk everything out in the morning when Eliott won’t be intoxicated. Right now, they both needed sleep.

| Part one | Part three |

[dokidoki-tae]

Oh...I will

It took long but heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere @fremdekonigin

It’s a little different from what i wrote out on top but meh its wuv uwu

Risotto Nero: Risotto had never intended for your relationship to last as long as it has. He became interested in you when he frequented the shop you worked at, always being warm and friendly despite his serious and cold he was. He’d go into your shop to get pastries for himself and the rest of the team during early morning meetings. You were the first shop to open so early in the morning near their HQ, and he really did like your baking. You would always try to make small talk, but he never indulged you, still you always smiled at him and you never asked invasive questioned. He would never admit he enjoyed seeing you.

The first time he spoke to you other than ordering was when you told him, “I really like your cap!” and he responded with a “thank you.” He chuckled to himself when you gaped at him and it didn’t help when it looked like your eyes were going to pop out when he told you to “have a nice day.”

The next time he came, he began to note the little things. Like when your tongue would poke out slightly when you rang him up and when your nose scrunched up at random, and how frequently used your hands to communicate especially when you got excited.

When he finally asked you out, you dropped his box of pastries when you tried to hand it to him. He watched as you turned red and found the right words.

“I-well- Hmgh-Ah-I-Yi-YES!” you stammered.

Since then he’s had you by his side. He didn’t expect it to go as long as it has. He thought about you before officially asking you out, but he did so in order to quell the thoughts you occupied. He thought the more he got to know you, the more likely it was to stop himself from thinking about you; hoping that getting to know you would satisfy the curiosity.

He didn’t expect himself to be in the situation where he had his arm wrapped around your sleeping figure. He watched you as you sleep, even then you still had the smile that captured his heart. He worried about what your relationship could lead to and the dangers, but right now he just wants to do what he can to protect you.

Prosciutto: It all starts to make sense as the night progresses. You weren’t the only one Prosciutto was seeing, he made sure to let you know that you were one of many people he was seeing on the side. He couldn’t read what your look meant when he told you this, but he knew you accepted it when you agreed to go out with him the next day. Tonight, he was with a woman he met on the streets, they got to talking and Prosciutto took her out to dinner. It has been a while since he’s been out with someone who wasn’t you. He always found himself at your place, doing mundane relaxing things. Now he had a gorgeous woman with him, but he found himself daydreaming when she spoke to him. As a self-proclaimed gentleman, Prosciutto chastised himself for being inattentive and forced himself to give her his attention but quickly lost it when his phone went off. He excused himself when he saw it was you. 

“Hey, Prosciutto! Are you busy?” you chirped.

He couldn’t help but smile from hearing your voice. “I-,” he stopped himself before proceeding, “I’m just running a few errands for Risotto. Is everything alright?” 

“Oh yeah! I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over to watch a movie. Though, I understand if you’ll be too tired later.” You giggled and he chuckled with you.

“I’m never too tired for you, Amore,” Prosciutto expressed. He couldn’t see you but he knew you were blushing at his words as you always did when he was particularly sweet to you.

“I-I-I’ll see you later then! Stay strong!” You wished him before hanging up.

His smile only widened thinking about you, waiting for him to come and welcome him. He felt his heart beat faster and tried to compose himself as he went back to his date. He already came up with an excuse end the night early. He had no guilt, he just wants to be with you as soon as he could. 

As dropped his date to her home, his demeanor turned solemn. He knew about the growing feelings he had for you. It was love, and it was a feeling unfit for a gangster. Still, he didn’t want to give up that feeling. He weighs his options, seriously considering ending what he had with you. Those thoughts disappeared as soon as you opened the door and greeted him with a smile.

Pesci: He was having a bad day after being chewed out by the team, minus Risotto who only gave him a grave look, for screwing up on a mission. Pesci knew he messed up and no one would let up and continued to make fun of him and mock him. Prosciutto was more constructive with his criticism but it still hurt. 

He locked himself in his room and cried until it was late. As he laid in bed, slowly falling asleep, he got a call from you.

“Pesci! Let’s go out!” There was no question or request. Only demand.

“But-”

“No buts! Meet me near Il Porto Dei Sapori!” And with that, you hung up without so much as an explanation. 

Pesci was used to it but he felt himself become irritated mostly after what happened today getting on his nerve. 

He peeked out and saw no one was in the living room, probably having retired.

As he tiptoed out, he felt a presence behind him. It was Prosciutto.

“Where are you going? Why are you sneaking around like a common thief?” He began to interrogate

“I-my...[Y/N] asked me to meet them...” Pesci stared at the ground, shifting on his feet shyly.

Prosciutto remained silent for a brief second. “Be back by tomorrow evening.” He stated before returning to his quarters.

Pesci felt his annoyance began to fade as he made his way to you. Once he saw you, his bad mood vanished completely.

“P-E-S-C-I!” You sang. “You’re finally here!” You ran and throw yourself at him. He was a meek person but he was strong; you could never topple him over.

“Why are we here?” Pesci asked, looking around. The streets were basically empty. You only gave him a toothy grin when you took his hand and began walking.

“I just wanted to spend time with you. That’s all.” You leaned into his shoulder as you walked along, squeezing his hand every now and then.

Pesci felt tears building up and threatening to fall.

“I wanted...I needed to see you too.” He rested his head on yours, enjoy the night and each other’s presence.

Formaggio: He doesn't remember the night so well other than you rubbing soothing circles on his back as he vomited violently in the toilet. When he woke up, he took the painkillers that were left on the counter next to him. He was bare aside from his boxers, and his clothes were nowhere in sight. 

While he didn’t have many memories as to how he got there, he assumed you picked him up sometime into the night. He recognized your room and bed, having frequented often. He winced from the throbbing he felt in his head and face. He touched his lips and felt it was swollen. He must have gotten in a fight at the bar. Oh well.

“Oh, you’re awake. Are you feeling okay, Maggio?” You stood by the door, looking at him with the same gentle expression as always. He stretched and let out an exaggerated groan.

“I have a small headache, but nothing to worry about,” He sat back and flashed you a flirtatious smirk. “Your presence has helped me the most, Amore.” He opened his arms, suggesting that he wants to hold you.

You giggle at his antics, walking towards him and embracing him. His hands stroked your back and slowly started to move south towards your rear, but he stopped immediately when he felt small droplets fall on his chest and a sob escape your chest.

“What the-Amore, what’s wrong?” Formaggio questioned.

You cried softly, trying to calm yourself to talks without breaking down more.

“I hate seeing you hurt, Maggio. I know you were trying to defend me from those guys, but I would have rathered they continued to harass me than to let them hurt you like they did...” You wiped your tears away. 

That’s right. He had gone out with you and he wasn't controlling his drinking like normal while you asked with concern to slow down.  Not soon after, some assholes thought it would be cool to harass you and Formaggio was quick to intervene. There were 6 of them and only Formaggio. The fight caused everyone at the bar to run out, having been familiar with Formaggio. While Formaggio took care of them, he was still injured and it hurt your heart. 

Formaggio felt like his chest was begin squeeze. Most people have just left him drunk in the alley, sleeping in his own vomit. Here, his s/o worried and took care of him. He pulled you back into an embrace and stroked your hair. 

“Amore, don’t ever think like that. I would never allow anyone to disrespect you like that and I will make sure it never happens again. I’d fight all the men in Italy if I have to!” He smiled widely, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. He never thought himself a man capable of falling in love, but he guessed he hadn’t yet met you to know for sure and now here he is.

Melone: Melone had been ill. He looked a mess and felt awful. He had been throwing up all day and his stomach was churning. He rarely got sick but when he did, he was incapacitated for a while. When he told you, he didn’t expect you to come to his place in such a hurry. You pushed your way past his team and rushed into his room. You cooed at him and brushed his sweaty bangs from his burning forehead.

“Have you eaten anything, Amore?” You asked.

Melone stared at you in awe, genuinely touched you were there with him. Other people he had been dating or seeing had never shown as much concern as you were now. Even his own team just throw a bottle of cold medicine into his room before slamming it shut. His team watched in amusement from the door as you cared for him.

“I haven’t, tesoro. I’m too weak to get up,” Melone wasn’t lying. His body was killing him and he felt worse when he stood. 

“I’m going to make you something that’s easy on the stomach,” you comforted. Melone felt his eyes tinge when he looked up at you and saw your face full of concern. “I’ll take care of you, Amore,” you voiced before giving him a swift kiss, unconcerned about getting sick.

The team stayed out of your way when you rummaged through the kitchen, gathering the ingredients you needed to make Melone his soup. In the meantime, you washed and dried some new sheets for Melone as the food cooked. You switched his old, dirty sheets with fresh clean ones. When the food was ready, you feed him. After, you drew him a bath and helped him wash himself. You both knew he could do it alone, but you wanted to and he let you. 

Once back in bed, you laid next to Melone, looking at him lovingly. 

“Tesoro?” Melone called.

“Hm?”

“Come closer,” Melone requested and pulled you into a hug as you indulged him. You felt him shake and returned his embrace with much force. “Thank you,” his voice quivered. 

“Anything for you.” You whispered.

Illuso: He couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore. Not without you knowing. Illuso was known by his squad to be nosy and invasive, and that was how he was with you until he began to realize it wasn’t fair to you. 

He became interested when you asked him out. He always found bold people interesting and he wanted to humor you. His feelings became more genuine and loved spending time with you. He loved that you laughed at his jokes even though you admitted they were pretty lame but made him even cuter. 

He would use his stand to spy on you though, to try and learn about you so he could surprise you with things later. 

When he learned you loved sunflowers more than roses based on your home decor, he bought you a bouquet of sunflowers He noticed the way your eyes lite up.

“Illuso, how did you know I loved sunflowers?” you asked happily.

“It was obvious to me, Amore. You are too much like one to not love them,” he winked, causing you to blush and hide behind the bouquet. 

He began to note your feels though. He would sometimes talk to you while watching you through Man in the Mirror. He watched your mannerisms as he spoke to you and felt his heart beat faster. The way you blushed and smiled when he talked you made him feel something inside. When your conversation ended, Illuso watched as you hummed and pranced around the house, joyous after your conversation. He began to feel guilty the more he watched, prompting him to leave.

He hasn’t spied on you for a long time now. He wasn’t spontaneous as he had been in the past with gifts, but you never seem to mind. You joked that he only unearthed some of your interests and now guessing what you liked will get harder from here on out.

“I guess you’ve finally hit a snag, huh, Illuso? I’m more mysterious than you think!” You teased. He smirked before nipping your ear leading you yelp.

“Then I can’t wait until you’ve opened yourself to me even more, Amore,” he proclaimed before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

Ghiaccio: He fought himself on his feelings. When he thought about you and wanting to be around you, he yelled out and did everything to suppress how he felt. He caught himself thinking about you unintentionally all the time. It wouldn’t be so bad if he thought about you in sexual ways. Well, he did, but he thought about the way you smelled and how nice your hand felt around his. He thought about how nice it was to hug you and how beautiful your voice is. He didn’t mind holding your hand in public and only ever scowled with you asked for a kiss in public. 

In the past towards the beginning of your dating, Ghiaccio refused to hold your hand and even asked if you were stupid when you asked for a kiss while out together. You were a little surprised by his honestly but accepted it. You apologized to him for making him feel uncomfortable and that was the end of that. You never pushed and respected his space, and in turn, he slowly began to respect you more and more. 

While he was interested enough to agree to date you, he always had walls up because of his job. He didn’t want to be too attached, but he made the mistake the moment he agreed to let you even a slight.

He was always calmer when he was by your side. He wouldn’t go into a full blown rant when you slipped up and said some figure of speech. He would rant but never yell. You looked at him in awe when he went on rants, surprised by how knowledgeable he was. The way you looked at him caused something to bubble in him. It felt like butterflies were flying in his stomach. Of course, he wouldn’t call it that because why the fuck would there be butterflies in someone’s stomach. He’d say it’s indigestion.

He knew he was fucked when the first thing in the morning he thought about was you and reached for his phone absentmindedly and called you. You answered with a yawn; he was unable to fight back the smile playing on his lips.

“Ghiaccio? Good morning,” you yawned again. 

He thought about how you looked, your disheveled hair, morning breath, the pajamas you were wearing, and the look you had on your face. His stomached flipped again.

“Good morning, Tesoro.” He accepted he was fucked and he was okay with it.

Sorbet: He knew he had fallen the moment he made you stay after spending the night with him and Gelato. In the past, Sorbet was the one who made you leave after sex despite Gelato’s protest because he liked cuddling with you. Sorbet didn’t want to grow attached; Gelato was more than enough for him. But Gelato started to bring you around more and so he reluctantly got to know you more and more. He hated himself for always paying close attention when you mentioned details about your life.

He began to include you in activities normally reserved for him and Gelato. Romantic dinners, walks, movie watching, shopping. In the beginning, Gelato would ask him to call you and ask. Sorbet didn’t question it and just did it. He started calling without so much as being prompted by Gelato. When he realized, he’d glare at Gelato who smiled mischievously. 

It was all over when he went to buy a new pair of earring for Gelato for Valentine's day. We found a nice pair and as he was paying, he saw a nice simple necklace he thought would look great on you and matched Gelato’s earrings. Without hesitation, he bought them both.

Gelato’s was shocked when he found out Sorbet asked you to join them on Valentine’s day. He couldn’t contain his excitement. He knew that Sorbet was developing feelings and wanted to encourage it because Gelato felt something for you too.

Sorbet was a pretty serious man, but he was also a romantic. He complimented Gelato’s and your beauty. He kissed his hand and your hand. Everything thing he did to Gelato, he did to you. You were just as included 

After dinner, Sorbet wrapped his arms around your waist and Gelato’s shoulder.

“Will you spend the night with us again, Tesoro?” Sorbet purred, pinching your rear. Loving two people might seem selfish, so Sorbet was willing to admit he was a selfish man.

Gelato: You made him too nervous and excited. He was doing the most to impress you. When it comes to others, Gelato rarely makes an effort to leave a good impression. He normally didn’t care about what others thought. He didn’t at first when he met you, but after spending time, he felt himself get more nervous. You were always curious and accepting of the things he said and did, pointing it out to him that it was part of his charm when he asked why you were so accepting. 

Your openmindedness appealed to him and he wanted to get to know you more. Sorbet was indifferent, as he was used to Gelato getting close to people. Though, Gelato expected to eventually bore and disappoint him, you never did, not once.

You always knew something he didn’t and said something really profound or just plain ridiculous that left him in awe or staring at you like you were an idiot. 

He would wake up every morning, reading to give you a call and go out and do something together. Sorbet could never match his enthusiasm, so he’d tell him to go without him as he always did. He had no intention on meeting you unless Gelato felt it was right.

You and Gelato spend a lot of time out together, and Gelato never grows tired. The moment he sees your face, he’s goes from a 1 to an 11 in terms of energy and can’t stop until he’s plopped into bed next to Sorbet.

You had yet to meet Gelato’s life partner, but when Gelato had asked you, you left butterflies because it told both of you that your relationship was a lot more serious than before.

Gelato is nervous about it all because he wants you both to like each other. While he knows he’s in love with Sorbet, he doesn’t know with you because he’s never felt this way before with Sorbet. When it was with Sorbet, there was hostility then tension then denial then passion. It wasn’t the same, and he wanted to take his time.

But when he introduced you, and Sorbet shook your hand with a small smile. He knew things would eventually turn out okay.

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

not sure if you write mental illness imagines as well, but I'd really appreciate a story where brian's depression is handled more realistically. because too often I see things where his bf rog gives him a cuddle and all is suddenly okay. so I wanted to ask if you could write something where maylor have to deal with all the ugly things that come with clinical depression. just a snippet of what their life is like and how they manage to make it through the bad stuff without ignoring the bad stuff.

Yes!! I feel the same way, anon. I loathe seeing a simple cuddle make Brian feel brand spanking new. Your wish (and mine..) is my command!!!

Trigger Warning: Mentions of alcohol abuse, Implications of self harm

It was dark in the room.

Roger nuzzled his head onto Brian’s shoulder, arms wrapped around the taller. He pulled him close to himself, tight and warm, unsure of what else to do, what to say.

Brian had been a little sad lately. That’s what he told others. A decent excuse for why he didn’t go anywhere. Why he broke previous engagements. Why he didn’t do anything.

But it was much more than that. It was much more than Roger could explain to others. It was certainly more than he could handle himself.

Brian had become someone completely different. If he had to choose a word, it’d be zombie. He shuffled about, groaning in response to questions. He slept most of the day and spent his few waking hours staring out of windows or under the covers, thinking maybe. Maybe just zoning out.

He rarely bathed now. His facial hair had become more than uncomfortable to kiss. Eating became a chore.

The only time Brian lit up was when he saw a bottle of scotch or gin. Roger hated to admit it to himself, but he preferred a drunk and depressed Brian rather than a only depressed Brian. At least he talked when he was drunk.

Shit was hard. Shit was really hard. Roger never had to take care of someone who’d hit rock bottom. He tried to shovel food into Brian’s mouth, but he seemed to only be getting skinnier. He didn’t even have to stretch to see his ribs anymore. Cuddling up to him always made tears well in Roger’s eyes. He could feel every bone prodding at him, pushing uncomfortably at Brian’s pale skin.

Roger tried lugging him into the shower, washing him like an unwilling dog, but he couldn’t do that anymore. When bruises began to pop up on his lover’s thigh, he was too scared to ask where they came from, although he had a strong feeling he knew. After the blotches began to mark Brian’s body, Roger couldn’t stand to see him like that. So he let Brian bathe however rarely he pleased.

What he hated most was the night time. The moment Roger laid down to sleep, Brian would get up like clock work. Every single night. He’d shuffle around the room, pulling the blinds away to look out the window before leaving the room.

It was weird, because after that, it felt like the house became haunted. He’d hear soft moaning, sobbing and wailing, as if a ghost had taken up occupancy in the living room, but only after 12am. 

This life they were leading was like living with the dead.

Roger would stay up for a while, wondering what the hell to do. What had gone so wrong? He’d wonder if this was his fault. He wasn’t taking care of Brian well enough. He wasn’t pushing him to go to the doctors. He wasn’t being a good boyfriend.

Well into the night, there’d be two ghosts in the house, both crying for relief. 

Roger held Brian closer, impossibly close. His skin felt icy, so surprisingly, he leaned into the touches, seeking warmth from the blond. Roger accepted it, drank it in. Brian nowadays inched away from any romantic gesture. It made Roger’s skin ache for a kiss, a hug, something. The times Brian used him for warmth felt like he’d won the lottery. He could pretend for a little. That his boyfriend was okay. That they were happy.

Roger kissed the guitarist’s bony shoulder, watching the flesh erupt in goosebumps. He pulled away and got up, ignoring the empty feeling eating at his guts. He couldn’t complain. Brian must’ve felt that void all through out his body, in his bones and muscles.

“I’ll make us dinner,” Roger said, a weak smile tugging at his lips. Brian grunted something unintelligible. He didn’t expect anything more from the other.

He walked to the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps similar to the dry grass crunching in a cemetery. He looked at the stove before making his way over to the phone.

After a few moments, he had it to his ear, a soft ringing coming from it.

“Hi, this is Doctor Newman’s office, how may I help you?”

Roger opened his mouth, faltering.

Was there a cure? For when your brain died but your body didn’t know it? For when your insides felt more like sand than human? For when your brain throbbed, veins pumped full of nothing, blackness, dark?

“Hello?”

Roger shook his head, saying, “Hi, sorry. I-uh- I’d like to make an appointment for Brian May,” voice incredibly small.

“Sure! What day works for you?”

“As soon as possible, really,” Roger replied, finger twirling around the phone cord.

“Tomorrow, 9am?”

“Yes. And uh. An appointment for m-me. Uh, Roger T-Taylor,” he added, throat tightening.

The receptionist kept talking, but he wasn’t listening. He looked back out of the kitchen, a ghastly figure now leaning against the doorway.

He stayed quiet, as the other was too. He hung up the phone, chewing on his lip.

They just stared at each other, two ghosts, drained of their lives, in a home that felt more like a crypt.

Hopefully, tomorrow would shed some light on them, open up the door to their mausoleum just a crack. But for now, this was all they had. This was all they were.

It was dark in the house.

[monsteramongmen-tamer]

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.” & #41: “I’m pregnant.”  -Roman Reigns.

Thanks anon for the request. 

Tagging: @kaitlynwwefan, @panic-angel3314, @shieldgirl95, @earl-01, @nickie-amore, @blondekel77, @reigns420, @littleprincess1621, @m-a-t-91, @luckygillblog, @finnbalorsbabygirl, @unabashedwwesmut, @blackwidow2721, @wrestlingimaginesposts, @wweburnitdown, @thirstiswet, @princesstoniii, @birthday-prinxess, @princess3733, @princesses-reign-daily, @lip-sync,  @laziestgirlintheworld, @lclb13, @tinyelfperson

Warnings: ANGST as hell.

A/N: If you’d like added to my tag list, just let me know. 

Work lately was amazing. You had an amazing job that you actually enjoyed going to everyday. You were a nurse. Being a nurse comes with a crazy schedule. You currently worked in the ER and you were always busy. But that was what you loved. You never got bored and there were always things to do. New things came in every day.

Keeping busy was what distracted you from your home life, or lack of. Your boyfriend was always on the road, so you were always home alone. That’s why you always agreed to take the extra shifts at work. But lately, shifts were getting more difficult. You were getting sick. But that was no problem. You just hung out in an empty room with a basket, did your throwing up, and stuck yourself with an IV.

It was funny, how your relationship with Roman started. You both ended up at the same bar one night after a rough break up. You found your boyfriend in bed with another woman. Roman’s wife just couldn’t handle him being on the road all the time. Especially with the kids. So, she left him. It was so hard on him. It started out you guys just sitting in a booth talking about your problems, then it was texting, but one night when Roman got home from work, he invited you over. You didn’t think anything of it, because you guys were friends.

When you went over there, he had wine and things just ended up happening. From there on out, you’ve just been a thing. You were happy, he was happy. Things were great. The sex was phenomenal. It was a strange relationship in most eyes, but it was what worked for you guys.

This week was going to be about 6 months you’ve been together and you and Roman had planned on hanging out together at his place. It had been 3 weeks since you last saw him.

While you were getting ready to head over there, you get a phone call from work. They need you to come in.

You sighed when you got off the phone and sent Roman a text.

   -Hey babe. Something came up, can’t make it tonite. So sorry. I will see u tomorrow.

So, you went in and worked the night shift. It felt like the longest night you’ve ever worked. There was a mentally ill patient that kept trying to grab you and was hitting you on your side. When you looked in the mirror when you got home, you could tell it was going to leave bruises.

You went home and passed the hell out.

When you woke up, there were tons of missed calls and text messages. Work called again. They needed you to come in again. They begged. You tried to tell them no, but they convinced you. Can’t just say no because your boyfriend is in town. Roman also texted you to make plans. You agreed to meet with him to have lunch.

You got ready, but wore your scrubs, and noticed you were starting to bruise. Great.

Roman got a table at your favorite place.

“Hey babe, work clothes?” He asked, looking at you confused.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. They need me again. I couldn’t tell them no.” You said with a pout.

“You realize tomorrow is my last day in town…” He said, looking down.

You grabbed his hands, “I know. And I’m all yours. I’ll even shut my phone off if I have to. But today, I have to go in. I’m so sorry.”

The two of you ate your lunch and Roman was kind of quiet. You figured he would be upset, and you would be too if it had been you. But you couldn’t blow off work to just stay at home and do who knows what.

Roman kissed you on the cheek before walking away. He was still upset.

Should you call in? No. You can’t that’s why you’re going to work in the first place.

So, you went to work and it was another rough shift in the ER. A bunch of druggies were brought in and one of them were violent. The man tried to strangle you. He did manage to get his hands around your neck, but thankfully authorities came to your rescue before anything got worse.

You were used to people beating up on you, but today just wore you out. You took a minute for yourself and sat in a bathroom stall. It wasn’t long before you got nauseous and were throwing up. When you came out of the stall, one of your co-workers was standing by the sinks.

“You’ve been gettin’ sick a lot lately. You pregnant?” She asked.

You laughed, “Pshht,  no I’m not pregnant. Probably just the flu going around.”

She nodded her head at you and gave you a judging stare and then left. You took a handful of water and splashed it on your face. That helped a bit. But you couldn’t help but to think...could you be pregnant? You haven’t gotten your period this month, and you should have gotten it last week, you’ve been getting sick. You haven’t had sex in about a month.

“Shit.” You said to yourself.

You then went straight to the pharmacy and bought 4 pregnancy tests. You had to be sure. You then went and bought a large pop and went to the lounge. Once the druggies left, things slowed down.

In the bathroom stall, you felt yourself begin to breath heavy. You peed on all 4 tests. Now you wait.

Your few minutes were up and you looked at the first test.

Positive.

The rest of them read the same thing. You couldn’t help but cry. You wanted to be a mother, but you always thought you’d be married. And right now was a bad time.

You pulled out your phone and texted Roman to see if you could go over to his place after work. He said yes and that he needed to talk to you.

You got off your shift and headed over there. You kept the pregnancy tests and put them in your bag.

Roman was sitting on his couch playing a video game.

“Hey.” You said, sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Hi..” He said.

“How was the rest of your day?” You asked him.

“Fine. Stayed here did nothing, went to the gym, came back and did nothing again.” He said in a very monotone voice.

“Look, Roman I know you're mad, but-”

“Are you cheating on me?” He asks, cutting you off.

You looked at him with wide eyes, taken back, “Excuse me?”

“Are you cheating on me while I’m on the road. Be honest.” He asked, now sitting up looking at you right in the face.

“I cannot believe you are asking me this. What makes you think I’m cheating on you?” You asked.

“Oh I don’t know. You decide to suddenly “work” all the days I’m home, you ignore my calls and texts throughout the day, and I can see a bruise on your neck. Is that a hickey?! I knew it!” He said.

“Roman, are you drunk?” You asked.

“Don’t change the subject. I’ve had a few drinks, yes, but we are talking about you here.” He said.

You shook your head in disbelief. Did he really think that low of you?

Just when you thought you should leave, you decided to get into it. You stood up and shut his video game and TV off. Then you took off your scrub top, revealing all of your bruises.

“Look, you think I’m sleeping with someone else? Do you not know what I have been though? See this bruise right here, on my stomach? One of my mentally ill patients did this because he couldn’t control his arm movements. Kept hitting me repeatedly until I managed to give him his meds. These, on my arms? A worried husband grabbed me too tight because he was worried about his wife who got into a car accident. And this lovely one on my neck? We had a group of druggies come in and one tried to attack me. I am lucky security came in and got him off of me before I was strangled to death. But yeah. I am just sleeping with someone else. I am so glad you’re so concerned about you, Roman.” You said, putting your scrub shirt back on. He just looked down at his beer bottle, not saying a damn word.

You went to the couch and grabbed your bag, “By the way, I’m pregnant.”

Roman looked at you like he saw a ghost.

Right before you walked out the door you turned around and looked at him, “Oh, and in case you’re wondering about the baby...it’s yours. Jerk.”

Then you slammed the door.

Walking down to the car, you were a bawling mess. You luckily made it to your car without anyone noticing you. You waited for the tears to dry up before driving home. Just as you were pulling away, you saw Roman running outside.

As soon as you got home, you went straight to bed. You weren’t working tomorrow, so you were just going to sleep. Roman left today as well, but he was the last person you wanted to see.

You woke up to the sun shining in your face and a loud knocking at your door.

As soon as you got to your feet, you had to run to the bathroom. Morning sickness really was no joke.

You flushed the toilet and there was still knocking at the door. It was only 7:30am.

Opening the door, you saw it was Roman. You immediately went to close it, but he was too strong, he opened it and came in.

“Y/N, I really need to talk to you.” he said.

You turned around and snapped at him, “About what Roman? You said enough last night.”

He ran his hands over his face, “I know and that’s not like me. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have thought that. I was talking to the guys and-”

“You talked to the guys about this?! So they think I’m some whore too?!” You began to yell.

“Y/N, please calm down. I didn’t know any better. I thought you were avoiding me.” He said.

“I was at my damn job.” You said.

“I know that now. I’m sorry.” He said.

“Sorry can’t take back what you said. And frankly, I can’t even look at you right now.” You said, looking towards the hallway.

“I understand. I deserve that.” He said.

“Damn right you do.” You said almost under your breath. “You should just go.”

It took a minute, but eventually Roman did leave and didn’t say a word.

Right now, you needed some space. If he wanted to be apart of this child’s life, you weren’t going to keep that from him. But right now, you need to start planning on bring another human into this world. It isn’t just about you anymore.

The next move is up to him.

[it-is-bugs]

TDBM Fic: The Pleasure of Your Company ~ 6

The boys turn first...

6. Buck Night:

Later, Matthew would blame what transpired on the alcohol.  Or rather, the lack of alcohol being consumed by Lucien Blake for once.  

"I won't drink tonight," Lucien had announced just as Cec had began to pour out.  All the men had looked at each other with shock, and Cec slowly put the stopper back in the decantenter.  

"Very good, sir," he said formally.  

"Cec, sit down.  You're a guest too," Lucien told him.  To the small group that made up an impromptu buck night, he explained, "I want to have a clear head tomorrow.  Can't let Jean down."

"Don't want to mess up the vows?" Danny suggested.

Lucien gave a half-smile.  "That too."

Cec cleared his throat.  "Right."  He sat, rather stiff, in one of the chairs, but his gaze kept darting around the room.  There were only male club members in the smoking room, but these were some of the stuffiest citizens of Ballarat.  There were lots of rustling newspapers and clearing of throats, but no one spoke up.  

Danny wondered how to get the party going.  This wasn't like any buck night that he'd attended before, but that was just like the doctor.  No late night in the back room of a pub, full of fag smoke and the clink of beer glasses with girlie magazines being passed around. Instead, they sat at this posh club, where they'd have to sleep tonight so the girls could have the Blake house. Cec was perched on a chair, Lawson was drinking steadily but saying nothing, Bill was looking at the animal prints on the walls with bored half-interest, and Lucien turned his water glass, still a small smile on his lips, lost in thought.  Danny decided that he should try small talk...  

"You'll be leaving on your wedding trip Monday?" he asked.

Lucien started.  "Yes," he replied, "The wedding tomorrow, then a good lie in on Sunday..."  That smile became a smirk--

"Not going to church?" Matthew asked and instantly saw it was the wrong thing to say.  He blinked blearily, noting Cec's outraged expression, Bill's eye roll and Danny's shock.  Lucien looked like a puppy whose paw had been trod upon.

"I'll be staying the two nights in the station's backroom," he said grimly, "it'll be an adventure."

"You can come home," insisted Lucien.

"I think not."  Matthew drained his glass and Cec popped up to refill it.  He gave a pained smile. "Let you two enjoy some privacy."

Lucien was back to that dreamy expression.  

Bill drained his beer.  "Well, I'll be pushing off--"  He'd had too much of this dull scene.  After some half-hearted goodbyes and see you tomorrow, everyone sat back down and the conversation slowed even more.  

Cec retrieved the cigar box from being the bar and asked, "Smoke, gentlemen?"  

With nothing else to do, they all accepted cigars and lit up.

After inhaling a few puffs, Matthew felt a bit ill, and washed the nausea down by draining his glass.  That's when he said it.  

Gasping out smoke, he said, "Funny how things turn out.  If Jean had said yes, we wouldn't be 'ere tonight."   He blinked slowly.

Lucien became alert, as he always did at Jean's name. "What?"

"When I asked her out."

Cec and Danny froze.

Tipping his head, Lucien fixed Matthew with that intense look that Matthew dimly recalled from interrogations of the toughest suspects.  

Put the glass down, mate, Matthew chided himself. He raised his hands.  "It was nothing.  She was--is a fine figure of a woman.  Christopher had been dead a few years, it seemed enough time had passed..."

"I'm sure," Lucien said shortly, his eyes flaring like hot blue flames.

Matthew knew this was going tits up but he was too drunk to find his way out of it.  Perhaps if he explained further-- "She turned me down flat; no worries. I figured the whole thing with arresting her son--" He grumbled, "Even if it was Doug Ashby who banged the hammer down.  I would have let the boy off with a warning and a few weeks on a work farm.  But Doug said his dad had been nothing but trouble and it looked like Jack was headed down the same path..."  He ran out of steam.  

"So it was all her choice?"

"To say thanks but no thanks?"  Matthew shrugged with effort; his arms felt very heavy.  "Yep."

The room seemed dim, and Lucien's voice far away, and  yet somehow thundered: "It's a wonder that you would want to live with us, seeing how painful it must be."

Matthew shook his head to clear it.  "Eh?"  

"Or did you think it would be easier to pick up the pieces when I inevitably cock it up?" the thumping voice accused him.   

Matthew tried to focus, but it was impossible with Lucien looming over him, blocking out the light.  When he looked around, Danny and Cec had disappeared.  He was quite alone, his spine pressed against the back of his chair.  He rallied.  

"Listen, mate," he said with sudden clarity, "you've got to get past this idea that Jean's going to toss you over first chance she gets, or she will.  No woman wants a man with no confidence about himself."  

Lucien stood up straight, and tugged down his waistcoat.  Then without a word, he turned on his heel and left.  

When Matthew felt that he could stand without his head spinning too much, he made his way to the bar and requested a cup of strong black coffee.  Ignoring the burning, he downed it in a few gulps.  Then he sought out Lucien.

He found him out on the balcony, ignoring the cool, damp breeze.  Lucien sat in a wrought iron chair, his feet propped on a table, smoking a cigarette and stroking his beard slowly with his thumb as he looked out across the city lights.  

Now that he'd found his friend, Matthew didn't know what to say, so he wavered on his feet and waited to be acknowledged.  

"I should have asked Alice to be my best ma--woman," Lucien said, but there was no animosity in his tone, so Matthew just chuckled.

"Jean's had to put up enough with your public spectacles.  That might just have pushed her over the edge."

Lucien laughed too and waved to another chair.  Grateful, Matthew lowered himself into it, sticking his bum leg out straight.  

"Should have invited her tonight, though.  She wouldn't have let us squabble in this squalid manner," Lucien pointed out.  

"True.  She'd have no patience for us."  Matthew brooded. "Probably why she's not married.  She's got little tolerance for the male ego."

"You've noticed," Lucien said, quirking a smile.  

"Yes, that's why..."  Matthew let that thought die on his lips.

But Lucien was still stone-cold sober.  "Why?"

"Nothin'," Matthew grumbled.

Lucien inhaled his cigarette then exhaled a long stream of smoke.  "Alice is a fine person.  I wouldn't like to see her hurt."

Matthew's temper flared and his head throbbed.  "Bloody hell, Lucien!  You've got some nerve to suggest I'd hurt a woman. I think things through, not like someone I know," he muttered bitterly.

"Oh, that's what you're doing, is it?  Thinking things through?"  Lucien held out his cigarette case to Matthew.

He needed to change the topic.  "I thought Jean doesn't like you to smoke?" He waved off the cigarettes.

"It's my buck night. Need to be a naughty lad--"  Peeking out from under his lashes, Lucien had that expression just like when he did something that would land them in the headmaster's office.  

"Bullshit. She's got you under her thumb, good and proper," Matthew sneered.  

Lucien didn't seem put out by that indictment.  He shrugged, giving another of those soft smiles.   "Just be careful you don't think your way right out of a chance."

Matthew lolled his head back, feeling ill again.  When was the last time he'd drank this much?  "After three years of doing everything possibly wrong, you're suddenly the expert on courting women?  Alright then.  Still the smartest man in the room."  This time, he didn't care if he offended Lucien.

"I thought we'd straightened all that out."

"I don’t mind you being smarter than me," Matthew said with a limp-wristed wave. "Or solving the crimes. Just bloody tired of you patronising me."

"I don’t patronise you!" protested Lucien.

"You’re doing it right now!  Trying to tell me how to get a bird!"

"Alice isn't some bird from down at your local!"

"Exactly.  And she'd be crazy to even--"  Matthew couldn't finish the sentence.  

Lucien clasped his shoulder and Matthew had to fight back.  "So you can solve more crimes drunk than a station full of sober coppers.  Has it occured to you that you need to be drunk to solve them?  What are you going to do about that now?"  He met Lucien's fear-filled gaze.  "Now that Jean will be your wife, not someone you can dismiss with two weeks' pay?"

"She was never--"

"She was.  She knew it, and somewhere in there--"  He tapped Lucien's skull.  "You knew."

Lucien sat back down. "I never would have," he whispered.

Matthew was suddenly very tired.  "But you could have."

"I never would have," Lucien repeated, now strong.

"Oh really.  Why not?"

"Because I always loved her.  Even when I didn't know it, I did."

"Then I guess it's good that you're marrying her."

Lucien suddenly grinned.  "I am, aren't I?"  He looked at his watch.  "In...oh goodness me.  We should get to bed."  

Matthew struggled to his feet.  "Damn right.  Gotta get our beauty sleep."  He was still drunk.  

Lucien took his arm, supporting him.  "Can't have Jean turning right around and walking back down the aisle when she gets a look at me."

"You're doing it again, mate."

"Yes, yes..."

After the men passed through the doorway, Cec stepped out of the shadows.  He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray that Lucien had used, then picked it up, and pushed the chairs back under the table.  After one more look around the balcony, he followed them in.  Young Mr Parker had removed himself to the closest pub with rooms for the night, the lads were sharing a room upstairs, and Cec would go home to his flat.  The party was over.  

~ end

[unashamed-shipper]

Living With You

read on ff.net and ao3

one / two / three / four / five / six

tags: @beaxnalu, @ftfanfics

rating: t+ for sexual joking, swear words, and mild smut later on

pairings: nalu, gajevy, gruvia 

characters: natsu, lucy, gajeel, levy, gray, juvia

summary: Finding herself thrown out and drunk after a party wasn’t the way Lucy expected her night to go. After blacking out and waking up in a room with three men, she has a decision to make: will she stay or will she go? Loosely based on New Girl. Roommates!AU

“Where exactly did Gajeel say this strip mall was by the river?” Levy said, pulling into the small coffee shop she frequented each morning before work. A week had passed since Lucy had been in the hospital, and thankfully she had another day off. And that day was to be spent with Lucy finding her a job.

“Just like he said: by the river,” Lucy joked, elbowing her best friend in the ribs. Levy peeked up at Lucy under her bangs and shook her head.

“Don’t play smart with me, missy, otherwise you won’t get your coffee,” Levy warned, shaking a finger in her friend’s face. Lucy moaned and opened the door to the shop, not wanting to risk saying anything that would deter Levy from buying her the caffeine she craved.

Once they headed back into the car with mochas in hand, they began their trip into the small mall to find applications and complete them. Once there, Lucy and Levy made a plan.

“Okay, so I’ll take this side and you’ll take that side,” Levy instructed, pointing her pencil from behind her ear at each side of the mall.

“Great. See you later, Levy!” Lucy waved and began her walk, first into a coffee shop and then into a crafts store.

A few hours later, Lucy thanked them for their time and headed back. None of the stores she checked were hiring, and despite the sinking in her chest and her anxiety arising, she knew she couldn’t give up. Helping with the bills and getting medical insurance for the next time she was in the hospital was a big deal, and being a mooch wasn’t her favorite thing to be. Lucy knew she had to pay back the boys for what mess she had made somehow…

She spotted Levy exiting a sports store quickly, and Lucy made haste over to where her friend was standing.

“What happened?” Lucy asked, and Levy managed a nervous grin.

“The guy wouldn’t leave me alone. He said that I’d be perfect for modeling a tennis line of his with my figure. But when he showed me the outfits, it wasn’t much more than a sports bra and gym shorts!” the woman huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Lucy shook her head with a sigh, thankful that Levy had gotten out of there without any problem. She herself had dealt with the same thing, and she was annoyed that poor Levy also had to dodge stupid men like that.

“Alright, I think we’ve had enough for one day,” Lucy said, grabbing Levy’s wrist and dragging her back to the car.

“Wait, Lu! There’s one more shop we should check out,” Levy said, pointing to a large wooden building in an area separate from the mall. Lucy’s gaze flicked over it for a moment, and then she turned her eyes on Levy.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Lev. That building looks like it’s a hundred years old, maybe more,” Lucy said, her mouth turned into a fine line now. She didn’t like the design of what looked like an old house. The architecture appeared as if it was about to fall apart at any moment, and even seemed to lean to the side a little. Lucy stared at the structure with a wince before deciding to give it a shot.

“Fine,” she said, and Levy grinned. Thankfully Levy was back in her normal mood. Levy had her own anxiety to deal with, although Lucy knew that it wasn’t as bad as her own. Levy’s was more triggered by social situations, which was why she tended to act out when she met new people.

“Okay, then, let’s go!” Levy said, pulling a still hesitant Lucy over to the book shop. A few moments later, they stood at the steps up to the building. They were not steep, but wide and evenly spaced like a library’s. Maybe this was a bookshop of some sort?

“Ready?” Levy said, sliding her hand down to squeeze Lucy’s hand, giving her the small amount of stimulation she needed to seize the moment. Lucy took a breath and walked up the steps with her friend’s hand in hers.

Lucy opened the door and was surprised by the amount of cobwebs in the corners of the store. Thankfully there were no spiders to be found, but the dusty shop wasn’t making too good of a first impression so far.

“Hello?” Levy called, and a woman popped out from behind the long counter to the side.

“Welcome to Juvia’s bookshop,” the woman said, and Lucy realized she talked in the third person right away. “Is there anything Juvia can help you find?”

“No, thank you!” Levy said brightly before nudging her friend. “Go on.”

Lucy’s disgust with the room filled her, and the dust-ridden room’s scent filled her senses. It wasn’t a bad scent, but it was old. Books lined a few deep brown shelves, and there were quite a few hued crystals lining the walls around the room. Windows gave little light, but where they did the dust was clearly seen, and Lucy wrinkled her nose.

“Um,” Lucy said, composing herself and maintaining a neutral expression, “I was wondering if you had a job open here.”

Juvia was quiet for a moment, and then she blinked her eyes a few times. Suddenly, she came around the corner and launched herself at Lucy. Levy stood off to the side, amused by Juvia’s reaction.

“Oh, Juvia was hoping someone would come in! Cana’s cards did tell that a woman would come in looking for a job!” Juvia said, clasping her arms around Lucy’s neck and hugging her tight.

“T-that’s great,” Lucy replied, looking Levy in the eyes to convey her want for help. Levy merely shook her head and giggled, leaving to go peer at the beautiful crystals.

Once Juvia detached from Lucy’s body, Juvia held out her hand and asked for Lucy’s name in her strange third-person fashion.

“Lucy. Nice to meet you,” Lucy said, grasping Juvia’s hand. A shock of cold ran through Lucy’s body, and she tensed her body. The feeling of cold jolted Lucy’s senses, and once it was deemed acceptable she pulled away. Juvia’s hand was cold!

“Juvia is so glad that Lucy came to work. Cana is a great person and works hard, but,” Juvia said, pausing for a moment to think through, “Cana likes her spirits and will come to work with a hangover. And customers have left because of Cana’s drinking.”

“I promise not to do that,” Lucy said with a smile, feeling herself warm up to the woman now. Maybe there was a way to pull in customers that would work a little better than just being kind? Lucy scanned the room, looking at the crystals that lined the walls on the shelves.

“Juvia,” Lucy asked, “Would you like it if I cleaned up in here a little? I think more customers would come in if this place was tidy.”

“Juvia would love that, Lucy. Thank you! And if Lucy would like to come in tomorrow to fill out paperwork, then Juvia would love that, ” Juvia said, shaking her hand over again. Lucy smiled. Juvia wasn’t that bad, she was just received somewhat strange when first meeting people.

“Before we get to that, I need to tell you something,” Lucy said, looking down at her feet. How was she supposed to tell her future boss about her anxiety?

“I have anxiety. It’s something that I’ve had since a little girl, and it’s very hard to work with. If you don’t want to hire me after this, I understand,” Lucy’s eyes still stared at her feet and moved up slowly to meet Juvia’s eyes.

Juvia blinked again for a moment, her face never wavering. Then she smiled at Lucy. “That’s alright. Juvia has depression herself. She puts those crystals up so then she can find healing in them. The crystals she sells are to help other people like Juvia find healing and comfort.”

Lucy relaxed, her shoulders no longer tense. She knew everything was going to be alright now. Even though Juvia was a little strange, she understood the pain of mental illness that Lucy went through. And if Lucy could find a boss that was as understanding as Juvia, then she better take the job right away.

“I’ll be in tomorrow morning to complete paperwork,” Lucy said, sticking out her hand once more to touch Juvia’s. Juvia grasped Lucy’s hand with a smile, and the cold shock still went through Lucy’s hand, but she paid no mind. She had a job.

“Juvia looks forward to seeing Lucy tomorrow!” Juvia said, and at that moment Levy headed back up to see Lucy and Juvia shaking hands. It was about time: they needed another girl in their group to round out the craziness of the boys.

“Ready to head out? I think I’m ready for some food,” Levy said, rubbing her stomach.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Juvia!” Lucy said with a wave, and Juvia waved back with a soft smile. As they exited, Levy elbowed Lucy in the ribs.

“Are you glad we went in there now?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said, looking up into the bright blue sky with a smile. “I am.”

Levy and Lucy headed back to the apartment quickly, and Lucy burst in the door with a huge grin on her face. “I got a job!”

Natsu’s head turned toward her first, and he gathered her in a hug when he ran over. “That’s great, Luce!”

His strong arms held her tightly, and Lucy flushed a little when she pulled away, holding his forearms. Natsu’s own face was dusted with a blush, and he looked her in the eyes. In them was more strength and hope than he had ever seen, and Natsu was a little surprised himself of how she had changed since he met her. Green gazed on brown for a few moments before Natsu cleared his throat and detached from her hold.

In an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness, Natsu walked away to go tell Gray the news. The quiet man merely saluted and offered a soft grin in approval, which was enough for Lucy.

Gajeel patted Lucy on the head, which was the extent of his physical affection. Lucy glared up at him, knowing that he was going to say something snarky.

“You’re still gonna have time to do the dishes, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t just give up doing the dishes just for a stupid job!” Lucy eyed Gajeel with a smirk, and Gajeel chuckled.

“I brought over some banana bread,” Levy said as she came in, hanging up her jacket.

“Great, shrimp. That loaf’s almost as tiny as you,” Gajeel teased, and Levy smacked him in the arm.

“Hey! This is a normal sized loaf of banana bread, I’ll have you know!”

“At least good things come in small packages,” Gajeel said, grabbing the wrapped treat from Levy’s hands and going to butter up a slice in the kitchen without another word.

“I think that means that he likes you,” Lucy whispered to Levy after seeing her friend’s flush. Levy shushed her friend but said nothing, staring back at Gajeel in surprise.

“What’s for dinner tonight, blondie?” Gajeel said, turning back as soon as the bread was buttered. He took a chomp out of it, and she was surprised at how big of a bite he could take.

“Don’t you usually make the meals, Gajeel?” Lucy teased, and Gajeel chuckled.

“That’s true,” he said, finishing the bread quickly, “but I wanna see what kind of cooking you can do on your own. So if I’m ever gone, these idiots won’t starve to death and I won’t be liable for murder.”

“True,” Lucy told him, opening up the refrigerator and rifling through its contents. “What about a steak salad? I can make my own salad dressing with just a few ingredients, and I’m sure you have them.”

“You’re speakin’ my language, blondie. Chop, chop,” he said like Gordon Ramsay, and Lucy laughed out loud for the first time that day. It felt good, and even the little giggles that she had shared with the rest of the group the entire day made her feel better than she had since before the hospital visit.

Lucy made dinner quickly, seasoning and searing the steak with ease. Gajeel and Levy watched on in amazement, and soon the salad was tossed and the dressing was made as well. The ingredients were combined to make a nice and reasonably healthy meal, and everyone tucked in at the dinner table after congratulating Lucy on her new job.

‘This is great, Luce,” Natsu said through bites of steak, “and I don’t usually like salad.”

“Good salad, Lucy,” Gray said, raising his plate toward her, and Lucy was surprised with Gray’s kind words.

Gajeel ripped off a piece of steak before saying, “Damn, blondie. You’ve got both the guys in culinary school and the military beat!” Levy just nodded with a smile at Lucy, and she was surprised at how much the small woman had eaten. She had given her the same amount that she gave the boys!

Lucy’s face turned red as she thanked them, and the rest of dinner was spent in silence. Levy went home after that, telling everyone to have a good week and that she would be back next week with more treats. Lucy could have sworn that Gajeel had the smallest frown on his face when she left, but he covered it up by dabbing at his face with a napkin and putting on a smile, which was even more out of character for the man.

“Shoot,” Lucy said, remembering that Juvia had told her to bring a reference along with her when she came for the paperwork. Since Lucy hadn’t much experience in working, Juvia specified for her to bring someone she knew as a reference. But since most of her friends were back in her hometown, she had no one to bring.

Lucy’s anxiety seeped in at the corners of her vision, and she sat down on the couch to feel it’s velvety texture in order to stim. Tapping her fingernails softly on the sofa, Gray saw that she was breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong, Lucy?” he asked, his hand on her shoulder. It was a little too much for her senses, so she pressed her back into the back of the couch to slump over. Natsu was at her side within seconds when Gray motioned for him to come over, and he began to scratch circles into her back to help with the anxiety that was making her head cloudy.

“Well,” Lucy began, her voice weak, “I need to bring a reference with me tomorrow for my new job. Most of my friends are back in my hometown, and I don’t know anyone other than Levy and you three.”

“If it’s that big of a deal, I’ll go with you. I have the day off anyway,” Gray shrugged, and Lucy smiled at him once she felt up to it.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” Lucy said, knowing that Gajeel and Natsu both had to work. Gajeel was working on a particularly rough car the other day, and she knew that he would need his rest. Natsu was trying to crack a code on a computer that had been encrypted, but to no avail. Both of the men needed their rest for the next morning; they both had to be up at 5:30 in order to get to work on time.

“Alright, then let’s go tomorrow.”

Gray had gotten into something that he hadn’t expected: this woman was absolutely obsessed with him. Sure, he had dressed quite nicely that day since he hadn’t expected Lucy’s new work would be a tiny little bookshop, but he didn’t think there would be any crazy fangirl running it.

“Would Gray-sama like to sit with Juvia as she goes over Lucy’s schedule?” Juvia asked, holding onto Gray’s arm, which was kind of weird considering he hadn’t met her more than five minutes ago.

“No thanks. I’ll go over here and look at these books,” Gray said, detaching his arm from hers.

Juvia made an annoyed noise, but still sat down next to Lucy and went over her schedule.

“So Juvia and Lucy have decided on thirty-five hours a week. Lucy will get a lunch break every shift that she works six or more hours. Is that okay with Lucy?” Juvia asked, and Lucy nodded and looked over the rest of the paperwork. She was to wear an apron over her clothing, but other than that she was able to wear whatever clothes she wanted as long as they were not ripped or immodest.

Lucy decided that she’d have to go with Levy to get some new clothes. Skirts and three-length shirts were great, but when it turned winter it was going to be a lot harder to stay warm in this cold little building. She would have to check out the little shop by their house on the way home.

“Lucy will earn ten dollars an hour to start,” Juvia said, tapping the papers with a pen where she was to sign. Lucy read over the paperwork one more time and then signed them with a flourish, and Juvia shook Lucy’s hand and gave her a hug.

“Juvia is so glad to have Lucy with her! She was so lost with Cana being gone for vacation,” Juvia told her, and Lucy’s heart dropped for the girl. She didn’t know much about her, but it sounded like she had a pretty rough backstory from what she did concur.

“These crystals are cool,” Gray said from the corner, jerking a thumb in the direction of the objects.

“Gray-sama thinks so? Then he can take one home to use in his room!” Juvia said to him, once again grabbing his arm. “This one helps with romantic feelings. Juvia wants Gray to give in to his romantic feelings for her!”

“No thank you. I’m getting in the habit of saying that I don’t like things,” Gray said, taking her arm off his. Juvia looked heartbroken, and he walked away without another word. Lucy looked from the sidelines with a sigh. She didn’t know who would be able to melt Gray’s seemingly impenetrable heart, but someone had to have a shot at it sometime.

As soon as Juvia wrapped up with the paperwork, Lucy and Gray headed home. Lucy looked out the window and smiled, thankful that she had a new job and that she even had a new friend and boss. A sense of hope filled her, and her anxiety about her job lifted. Lucy knew everything was going to be alright.

Things were looking up.

Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate a comment in the tags or a reblog of this story if you liked :) 

Next chapter will be up on 1/24 as scheduled. Thank you so much for being patient with me!

>>>Chapter 7>>>