#my eye hurt thursday evening my dad said there was no point going to a&e we'd rather wait till morning

[justabunchofdragons]

ough why did my iv drip hurt so much 😭 i had preseptal cellulitis as a kid and they gave me iv antibiotics so it'd be a quicker recovery and the cannula was in my hand and apparently its not supposed to hurt but every 4? 6? hours when they switched the drip on i just remember it hurting so much i cried. makes me squeamish even now

[bunni-v1]

(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

Chapter 4: Right. Prev Chapter\\Next Chapter m.list

Tw: Feelings; Crumbling relationships with parents (dw it'll be fineeeee)

Info: Kenma x Reader ; Kuroo and Reader; Kuroo is a wingman (bad at his job); Maki is still fat

Word Count: 5.3k 🍓Soooo, I finally had time to edit this (yay!) I was supposed to work on Curee but uhm... no! Kenma Kozume you will never ever want me the way I want you, but you take precedence!

Tag List: @angel-academia @bi-bi-papillon

By the time practice is out on Thursday, you have fully relaxed into your new routine at Nekoma. Walk to school with Kuroo and Kenma, attend class, eat lunch with Kenma (now featuring both Yamamoto and Fukunaga), head to practice, and then grab snacks from the convenience store after it's all done. It’s easy and much like your old one at Karasuno, so you get comfortable quickly, especially with how friendly and receptive the team has been to you. 

As you approach your neighborhood today, Kuroo offers to let you come over for some of his gran's delicious sweetbread, but you decline. His disappointment makes you feel like you kicked a kitten, but you have prior commitments. So, you promise you’ll have the time another day, and he and Kenma wave you off.

As usual, your old man isn’t home when you get back. Never early, never late. Your school bag thumps to the floor as Maki greets you with excited chirps. You take the time to make sure she has food, sweep the floors, and do some other chores before heading up to your room for your final task of the day: Calling Noya and Tanaka. (Calling it a “task” was an exaggeration, you were excited to talk to them again.) It was an odd time to do so, but you promised them so you couldn’t back out now. You pull the laptop you’ve had since middle school out from your desk that you’ve had just as long, and nestle yourself into your pillows. Your Dad and your Mom (and your Stepdad) offered to get you a new one, but you can’t bring yourself to do it just yet. You’re too damn sappy. It whirrs to life, fans a bit too loud to be a good sign, and you’re greeted with a picture of yourself and Noya covered in mud and bruises.

It’s your favorite picture of you two together. Back when life was good and easy and all you were worried about was when the next volume of Shonen Jump was coming out and making sure you got the first spot in line for recess. Your mom took this picture, and you know it was her because she was the one who scolded the two of you for making such a mess of yourselves right before dinner. You briefly think about going through the other pictures on the clunky thing, but Skype pops up and starts chiming to remind you that had better things to do. You accept the call, immediately greeted by Tanaka’s awful posters of half-naked women behind his bald head and Noya squinting way too close to the camera to get a good look at said posters.

“Don’t look too hard, you’ll pop a blood vessel,” you say dryly.

“He’s popping something, that's for sure,” Tanaka responds smoothly – ironic coming from him.

“I am not!” He defends, then slowly adds, “...yet…”

You roll your eyes, “Both of you are nasty.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” Tanaka argues.

“It’s your poster you perv!” You shout back.

“Hey! Admiring beauty does not make me a pervert! In fact, you’re the perverted one for thinking like that.” He shoots back.

You scoff, crossing your arms haughtily, “Do your legs hurt from making that leap? If not, I can come back to Miyagi and break ‘em for ya.”

“Guys c’mon, we can try and kill each other later,” Noya says, somehow the voice of reason despite being the cause of the problem, and points accusingly at you (you think, because he’s just pointing at his computer screen), “You owe us a catch-up, Miss too-busy-to-text-my-best-friends.”

You sigh at Tanaka’s childish ‘yeah!’ holding your hands up in defeat. You had been busy with the team and adjusting, but in your defense, you were texting them! Just not as much as normal, not enough to give them a real run-down of your daily life – which was enough for their complaining to be reasonable. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. It’s not all that exciting like you’re thinking – not like that little redhead Tanaka’s been talking about, at least.”

Tanaka groans, whining about getting up early every day. He was just such a good senpai, helping his little freshmen train. Both you and Noya call him an idiot, which derails the conversation for a little while until Noya suddenly gains consciousness again and bitches at you to get on with it.

You proceed to tell them almost everything that’s happened in the past week so far. Kuroo and Kenma, managing the volleyball team, your classes, and of course giving them a much-needed Maki update after she trods herself up to your room. (Noya insists she got fatter, Tanaka thinks she’s slimmer, and you think you need to have a serious chat about the amount of treats your Dad is giving her). They’re very interested in the volleyball club, which was expected of them. You swear they have a volleyball instead of brains sometimes.

“So… you’re pretty much their manager,” Tanaka drawls, chewing loudly on some chips Saeko gave him earlier.

“It's not official yet.” You correct. You can feel Shimizu-Senpai’s ire from Miyagi already. You hope she can find someone to replace you this year. “Offical sign-ups for clubs start tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Noya hums, also munching on something bready that you can’t make out on his pixelated screen, “you’re gonna say yes, so why be so dodgy about it?”

You frown, evading your eyes, which tips both of your friends off that something is up. It’s not as if you didn’t want to say yes. Saying no to the position felt like a sin against every god you could name. There was just a little, tiny, itty bitty anxious part of you that was filled with what-ifs. What if you’re not good at it long term? What if the team was only tolerating you? What if it’s overstepping boundaries? What if you don’t have the time with classes?

“Oi!” Noya shouts, getting close to the camera again. If he were here he would probably grab you by the face and force you to look him in the eyes. That alone makes you slide your eyes back to the screen to look at his glare.

“Quit overthinking things,” Tanaka scolds – which feels wrong, considering he’s normally the one being yelled at. This whole friendship thing works both ways, you suppose.

“I know–” You try, but they aren’t having it this time.

“No! You’re gonna go to the sign-ups tomorrow,” Noya starts.

Tanaka continues, “You’re gonna… fill out those forms, or whatever!”

“Then you’re gonna give them to the coach right away. No ifs ands or buts.” Noya finishes, poking his camera for emphasis.

“Okay! Okay, I’m gonna say yes, I promise,” Shimizu-Senpai is out there somewhere, planning her revenge on you.

There's a nice lull in the conversation, and you think you almost got away with not talking about Kenma. You did try not to make a big deal out of him or Kuroo, but alas, Nishinoya Yuu and Tanaka Ryunosuke are not your best friends for no reason.

“Sooo,” Noya drawls, and you know what's coming, “tell us more about that Kenma guy~”

“Ugh, god, I knew you were gonna make a deal out of him.” You complain, visibly flustered.

“There is something up with him!” Tanaka declares, “Told’ja she was hiding something from us.”

“Nothing is up with him, okay? He’s just…” You struggle to put it into words. What is he? Nice was too mild. Amazing was too much. 

“A total hottie?” (Tanaka.)

“The love of your life?” (Noya.)

Your idiots say at the same time, forcing a sigh past your lips, “No. He’s just… he’s right. You know? He’s right.”

“Right?” They say in sync, then nod as if they understand and repeat, “He’s right.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a little weight lifted off your shoulders, “It’s like we were meant to meet. Everything is easy and comfortable. It’s… right.”

Then, when you feel like you have solved the puzzle, the dreaded question comes, from Tanaka of course, “Do you think he’s your soulmate?”

The weight is back, and your friends can tell from how quickly they try to backtrack, but you’d rather talk to them a little about it than shove it down.

“He doesn’t believe in soulmates. I think he thinks they’re silly,” you laugh dryly, chest aching, “besides, just because I click well with him doesn’t mean he’s my soulmate. I get along great with Kuroo too!”

“But it’s different with that Kenma guy,” Noya says simply, ripping apart any rationalization you’ve been able to do the past few days, “like you said, it feels right. He’s right.”

You think about it for a long moment, trying to find a good way around what he said. As usual, though, you just can’t beat Noya’s simple, straightforward logic. You can’t complicate something so incredibly uncomplicated.

“Even if he is my soulmate, which he probably isn’t, I won’t push it on him,” you respond, voice thoughtful and quiet, “He’s a friend first, and if he happens to be my soulmate, I don’t want to push him away with daydreams.”

That gets them to back off long enough that you can masterfully change subjects back to the new freshmen on Karasuno’s team. You take a stab at trying to convince Noya to rejoin, but as usual, he’s too stubborn to reason with. Talking with them, as always, is easy. It almost feels like you’re right there in the room with them, if it weren’t for the way Noya’s audio glitches every once in a while. You get so lost talking to them that, before you know it, it’s 8:30 and your Dad is shouting for you to come down to eat. You didn’t even hear him come home. He didn’t even bother saying hello.

With promises that you would text them more consistently, and that you’d definitely plan a trip to Miyagi over a break, you hang up the call and join your father for another tense dinner. Ever since you had accidentally ignored him on Tuesday, he’d been a bit distant. He was still warm and loving, but you could tell it seriously hurt him when you broke the routine. So, you’d been doing your best to keep everything as balanced as always. You chat about classes, practice, and the latest movies coming out. Nothing that could rock the boat, because it already had enough water in it, and you couldn’t afford it sinking.

Speaking of sunken ships, he mentions that your Mother and Stepdad wanted to come visit sometime. Which was fine with you, but you knew things were tense between the three of them, so you left the decision up to him. By the time you make it back up to your room, you want nothing more than to collapse and sleep for a million years so you don’t have to deal with the weirdness surrounding you and your dad. 

It lingered around the house. In each dark corner where light doesn’t quite reach, each creak of its old bones, each awkward silence left in the still kind of strange-smelling air there is a discomforting reminder that things are not right with him. There is an ache in your muscles that you must fix it, and a stab to your stomach when you realize you don’t know how to. It makes you want to sleep forever; let your muscles relax for just a little bit.

Sleeping Beauty had it pretty good, you think. At least she had a prince waiting for her. All you had was a cat the size of a medium dog and two of the dumbest people you’d ever met a few hundred miles away. In a last-ditch effort to feel better, you slide the box labeled ‘textbooks’ out from under your bed and dig out the object of your desire. The studies of soulmates.

You’d managed to masterfully (sloppily) hide them from your dad. Thank god you have (had?) a good relationship, or else he might’ve gone through your room and found them already. With greedy fingers, you tug the only bookmarked one out from the bottom of the box, flipping it open with a big grin on your face. Reading about soulmates always made you feel better. Always. 

This was volume three of six of the original set – your mother did not have the revised versions the author put out shortly before they had passed. Still, the first edition of the first two volumes was fascinating, if not for minor inaccuracies. Volume one covered entirely what soulmates are; who can be a soulmate; how the lifetimes of soulmates intertwine, and things along that line. Volume two discussed “the in-between”, the place between life and death. This volume you were on, however, discussed the process of discovering your soulmate.

You had read through the more… logistical parts of the book and were now on the part about the feelings. It was a short chapter, as far as you could tell, but it would be enough to maybe make you feel better. Grazing over the parts you’d already read, you quickly ended up back where you had left off. The spark. 

“The ‘spark’ is not a concrete thing, nor is it entirely flexible. It occurs differently for every person and creature that may experience it, and yet there is one thing that is common among all described experiences. Without fail, all people who have experienced this ‘spark’ have a sense of intense familiarity regarding everything related to their soulmate. A sense of belonging within their other half’s social life. Family, friends, hobbies, pets, and everything in between seem to settle into place without any effort.”

You nod along to the words on your page, comprehending them as best as you can. You recalled Tanaka talking about something like that with Kiyoko, though you doubted it a bit at the time. You flipped the page, deciding it was best not to dwell on how ironically familiar this was all sounding. The next section covered several other facts about the connection between two soulmates, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about that short but impactful paragraph. 

You did not want to be dramatic, nor did you want to sound insane, but you had noticed a familiarity with Kenma. About… everything surrounding him. The way you felt like you’d found a missing puzzle piece beneath the foot of a table, one you’d long since given up looking for. Like you waited a whole lifetime to finally click into place with him. You’d only met him four days ago, though. You did not know him. Certainly not enough to be acting this delusional. He was right, though. (Your heart insists it, loud and clanging like church bells in your steeple of a chest).

You try for a little longer to read the text, but it all blurs together with the rampant thoughts of hope singing in your brain. You growl at yourself, slamming the book shut and shoving it back under the bed in the box. (Maki startles, yowling and flying across the room in fear, though you don’t pay her any mind.) You’d only managed to make things worse by thinking about Kenma. He was not your soulmate, and even if he was he didn’t believe they existed. That shuts down any chance of this wild pipe dream coming true – NOT that you had any intention of chasing it in the first place. Hell, you hardly believed it. It would be too easy. Too simple. Too convenient. That is not how the universe was and you knew better than to fool yourself into thinking that.

With nothing but anger and annoyance left in the place of energy, you grumpily toss on your pajamas and decide to call it a night. Maki crawled up into bed – hesitantly like you might throw her next – and curled against your side. Tomorrow would come fast, and you’d be able to forget about your stupid thoughts in the morning. That's what you kept repeating in your head to stop your mind from drifting again.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

You do not sleep well, and because of this, you manage to sleep in nearly too late. You miss seeing your Dad off, and you hardly have enough time to get changed, let alone eat before you are flying out the front door. You hope Kenma and Kuroo are waiting for you, though you wouldn’t blame them for ditching. Just because you’re late doesn’t mean they have to be. Lucky you, they are good friends, and they’re awaiting your arrival patiently at your front gate.

“Sorry, I’m late!” You apologize, still hopping into your shoes as you exit the front gate, “Just couldn’t get up this morning!”

Kuroo shrugs your worries off, “Just means we won’t have time to stop at the vending machine.”

Kenma busies himself with straightening out your hair, a habit that he’d started after the head pat incident. It makes your cheeks flush with heat, but neither of you bother to acknowledge it,  and luckily Kuroo doesn’t care either. “Means we don’t have to deal with Yamamoto this morning.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find a way to be a problem,” You laugh, Kenma sighs, and then you remember something you’d been meaning to ask, “Oh! Wait, before we go! Which houses are yours?”

They both give you odd looks, like you should know by now, but… you don’t. You give them an awkward shrug, and they return the gesture, letting it roll off their shoulders.

“Mine is the kinda misshapen grey one over there, and Kenma’s is–” Kuroo explains.

“It’s that one,” Kenma cuts off, pointing to the one neighboring Kuroo’s. They’re both across the street just three houses down. No wonder they gave you weird looks, you totally should’ve figured that out, especially with their names on them.

Kenma’s is shorter than Kuroo’s, which makes it stick out a little amongst the other houses. It’s an off-white color with brown trimming, simple but inviting. You feel like you’ve seen it before. Like you’ve walked up its cobblestone path and right through its front door. That was impossible, you think as you turn on your heel, you’d never been to Kenma’s house.

“Boy, do I look stupid,” you laugh, leading the way so you can get to class on time.

“You always go in right away,” Kuroo dismisses, “I wouldn’t’ve put it together either.”

“Our names are on the front gates,” Kenma mutters, ending the conversation, still lost in his PS Vita as usual. You wonder what he was playing… you peek over his shoulder, and he leans in closer to let you see. Oh, it was one of those Persona games. You watch him play with interest for a while, maybe you should get into the franchise. It was visually pleasing, and the gameplay looked fun. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself with his game, your mind still wanders back to the houses. That sense of Deja Vu was hard to ignore.

“Y’know,” you announce suddenly, “Your houses are kinda… familiar? When I was looking at Kenma’s, I felt like I’d already gone through the whole place. Isn’t that odd?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo echos, “maybe you have prophetic dreams of house tours.”

You scoff, readying a comeback, but notice Kenma has this kind of quiet look on his face. Like he wants to say something, but he isn’t sure if he should say it. They’re common from him, especially around you. Normally Kuroo would be the one to poke at him, but since you’re already close, you give him a little nudge, “What’s on your mind, Kenma?”

He frowns a little, hesitant as he answers, “I feel the same way about your place.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, and you hope you don’t look as stupid as you sound.

His eyes are fixated on the game, though he isn’t doing anything in it anymore, and he nods, “Yeah. When I first came to pick you up, I got this feeling like I’d been there before. For reasons other than visiting the Shirashi’s with my parents, if that makes sense.”

You try to crush the glimmering hope in your chest. You were not thinking about soulmate stuff today. You told yourself today was a no soulmate talk kind of day and you meant it. (If you didn’t want Kenma to know how deeply your adoration for the concept ran, that would be humiliating.)

“Oooo~ Maybe you two are soulmates!” Kuroo purrs, shattering any thought of ‘no soulmates.’

You huff, face heating up. Dammit Kuroo Tetsurou, did he have it out for you or something? You brace yourself for his adamant denial, but it doesn’t come. You realize then his ears are bright red and– oh my god, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed. Wait. Why was he embarrassed? 

You curse Kuroo out in your head, but just as fast as he brought this curse upon you, he remedied it with smooth words and quick thinking. “Just kidding! I know Kenma doesn’t believe in that kinda thing.”

“It’s not–” Kenma starts, clearly more bothered than he expected himself to be. He takes a deep breath, then tries again, “I don’t not believe in them, I just don’t… It’s too romantic to accept that they’re real. Waiting lifetime after lifetime for one person? Too dramatic for real life.”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was the same idea your Dad had about them, but he was more bitter about it. If you were a different person with a different Mom and a different childhood, you’d probably think the same way. 

“That’s what makes them so nice though, right?” Kuroo argues, “Someone out there that was made just for you? Sign me up!”

“Exactly,” you accidentally say out loud, and the three of you are finally approaching the front gates of Nekoma High. Looks like you’re failing at the no soulmates thing. “I mean… maybe they aren’t real and I’m just being childish, but… someone who just understands me effortlessly sounds nice. Logical or not.”

“Logic is what makes sense of everything,” Kenma counters, “Without it, we wouldn’t understand anything.”

“Yeah, and that's all good and fine, but emotions aren’t logical. The way we feel doesn’t make any sense most of the time, so why would eternal love be any different?” You ask aloud.

“Bingo.” Kuroo punctuated with two finger guns pointed your way. “Not everything has to make sense, and not everything will. Soulmates are just one of those things that you’ve gotta have trust in your feelings for.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything as the three of you make your way up the stairs, the five-minute bell chiming at a higher pitch than the ten-minute overhead. You want to apologize, but Kuroo shoots you a hidden thumbs up to assure you, so you don’t. Kenma is tense for the rest of the day. Quiet and thoughtful, though he still takes the time to talk to you. It leaves you feeling all warm inside that he would account for you, despite what’s happening in his head.

During lunch, he doesn’t pull out his PS Vita like he usually does, which Fukunaga points out as strange. Kenma says the battery is low, but you know it’s not because it was at full charge when you peaked at it this morning. Yamamoto is also late, which you know Kenma is more than happy for, but you can’t help but worry. What if he doesn’t eat? How horrible! He’s an athlete, he needs to eat a lot to stay strong and healthy. (It’s nice to be distracted from your worry over Kenma.)

Your worries are squashed when he bursts through the door of your classroom, scaring several unsuspecting students with his heavy panting. Was he sweating? Did he run here? From where? His aura is intense as he approaches you, face hardened into a determined glare. If you hadn’t taken time to get to know him, you’d think he was trying to kill you. He stops right in front of you, the toes of his shoes almost touching yours. He shoves something in your face, not a knife (thank god), but a flimsy sheet of paper.

The three of you give him an odd look, wordlessly asking what his issue was, but he waggles the paper. You take it, careful to avoid brushing your fingers with him, and read over it. It was… an application for managing sports teams… Most of it was already filled out in messy handwriting. You grin, looking back up at the incredibly red Yamamoto.

Fukunaga grabs for it, and you let him take it with no resistance. He laughs as he reads it, and finally, Kenma grabs it. Instead of amusement, which you didn’t expect in the first place, he’s… annoyed. He glares at the paper like it’s personally offended him. You try and pretend not to see it, though it does make your heart ache a little. (Does he not want you to sign up? He was the first person who asked, so what’s his deal?)

“I realized you hadn’t applied officially to be our manager, and I thought I’d give you a headstart,” Yamamoto admits awkwardly as the paper finally makes its way back into your hands, “Most of it should be filled out.”

You smile at the paper, “This is sweet Yamamoto, thanks. I was planning on signing up at the activities fair, but I guess this saves me the trouble, huh?”

“You can give that to coach at the fair,” Fukunaga explains, “It’s the easiest way to apply and should guarantee your spot. Not that we were expecting any applications outside of you in the first place.”

“Just trying to play it safe,” Yamamoto defends, “don’t wanna lose her right as she settles in.”

“Thanks, guys,” you say with a big grin, “I’ll finish it up, then we can walk together to get it turned in?”

Fukunaga gives you a quiet thumbs up, while Yamamoto yells his acceptance, earning glares from the other students situated around the room. You glance to Kenma for his approval, but he’s too busy thinking again. You shrug it off because if you think too hard about it, you’ll worry.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

Practice is canceled for the day thanks to the activities fair. Kuroo, Nobuyuki, and Coach Nekomata are all going to be promoting the volleyball club, so there’s no real reason to go. As promised, you and a still pensive Kenma wait patiently for Fukunaga and Yamamoto in your classroom. You’d been able to avoid how uncomfortable Kenma’s silence had made you all day because you’d had other things to do. Yamamoto even noticed though he had no idea what his deal was. Now that it was just you and him… well, you can’t avoid it.

“Okay,” you announce, pressing your palms flat on his desk, “time to fess up. What’re you thinking about so intensely?”

He blinks at you, surprised, then he shifts his gaze to the chalkboard behind you, “Was it that obvious?”

“You lied about your PS being dead,” you put plainly, “that’s super weird.”

He lets out a breath, and then shrugs in defeat, “I was just thinking about the stuff from this morning.”

Your head tilts a little, “What? The house stuff?”

“The soulmate stuff. Why would I be thinking about the house stuff?” He snarks, pulling back a little when you laugh.

“That makes a lot more sense,” you giggle, and he rolls his eyes in what you think is a playful manner (playful for him, at least), “I’m sorry if what I said bothered you. I get that it can sound… insane… if you don’t believe in them.”

He shrugs, eyes still avoiding yours. You appreciate it a little. You think if he looks at you, you’ll do something stupid.

“I played a game about soulmates once,” he mumbles, leaning back to glare at the ceiling. You lean forward, resting on your arms now. “It was cute, really romantic. You played as each partner and helped them navigate through their lives. There were a bunch of close calls where they almost met, but something always messes up and keeps them apart in every life. Then, at the end of the game, they finally meet, and it ends when they realize.”

“That is cute.” You hum attentively.

His head shoots up looking at you with an unreadable expression, “It was scary.”

You blink at him, and without meaning to, you laugh a little, “What? You just described a romance novel and you found it… scary?”

He huffs, “It’s not the romance stuff, it’s the ending.”

“What’s so scary about soulmates meeting?” You say incredulous.

“It ends,” He states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “everyone talks about soulmates like they’re the final destination. The story‘s over once you meet them. It’s awful. Immediate game over.”

You scoff, “Ken,” The nickname is so natural it makes you sick, “Meeting your soulmate isn’t the end, it’s the beginning.”

It’s his turn to blink at you, head tilting curiously. It makes you smile, and without thinking you grab his hands and squeeze them. It’s a comforting gesture your Mom always did when you were confused or upset or anything other than happy. You think he could use it too. He stares at where they connect with wide eyes, and his ears burn red again. 

“Sure, you spent like a gazillion lives trying to find that one person, but when you find them…” you try hard to remember how Noya’s Gramps put it, then try to translate that to something he can understand “It’s like you defeated a final boss, and the huge XP boost it gives you allows your character to level up into a new class type. Does that make sense? I don’t play a lot of RPGs.”

At some point during your explanation he affixed his gaze on you, intense eyes practically drinking in all of your features like it was the first time he’d seen you. It makes your stomach flip, especially when he squeezes your hands back. “Close enough.” That is all he says, and it's the only indication that you might’ve gotten through to him. The two of you sit and stare at each other for a good long moment, unsure of what you should say – if you even should speak.

“Ooo, are we interrupting something?” A playful voice sounds from the doorway. Both of your heads whip around to see who it is, and you grin, thanking the universe for Morisuke’s abrasiveness. You might’ve kissed Kenma if it weren’t for him. (Did you really just admit that to yourself?)

Kenma pulls away first and quickly busies himself with packing away his things. You smile at him, then stand and toss your bag over your shoulder. “We were just talking. What are you doing here Morisuke-Senpai?”

“I heard about Yamamoto’s scheming, so I figured I might as well be a part of it too,” He snickers.

“It wasn’t scheming! It was… tactical coercion.” Yamamoto defends.

“That sounds worse,” Fukunaga comments candidly.

“Really?” Yamamoto squeals.

You huff a laugh out of your nose, walking up to them with Kenma at your side. “You guys are too loud,” He complains.

You ruffle his hair to appease him, which seems to work like a charm. You ignore how shocked his friends seem at it, “Let's go get this turned in. I can’t wait to officially be your manager!”

A chorus of cheers (followed by a groan) comes from the boys around you, and you lead the way through the halls until you realize you don’t know where you’re going, then Morisuke leads the way. With promises of celebratory pork buns, you all pick up the pace, though you let yourself fall back a little to keep Kenma company as the other three glavant forward.

You look at the piece of paper in your hands, a mix of Yamamoto’s handwriting and yours. Then your eyes drift over the three boys and finally land on Kenma. For once, he’s already looking at you. You give him a grin, and he smiles a little back.

[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 2: Lola

Summary: High school AU, 1984, Winter. It’s hard to make friends when you’re the new kid starting halfway through Junior year, but slowly Lola seems to be making a few. It’s much easier to have a rumour started about you, especially when you tend to make questionable choices at parties, but that’s much less fun.

A/N: 8173 words. Lola’s dad is the MVP, trust me. i meant to put this out a week ago whoops!! also im allowed to reference my own Queen oc as a treat. @bluehourmotel, @misscharlottelee and again, interludes are A Softer World quotes.

[ m a s t e r p o s t ]

the best revenge is living well. the second best revenge is fire ants.

The fact that after being in town for a total of two weeks, Lola’s closest friend is the gas station attendant a full fifteen minute drive away from her house is kind of sad. Not that she’s disappointed to be Mick’s friend, he’s got a dry sense of humor but a good heart and he’s refreshing honesty, but she’s been at this new school for about a week and a half, has already made out with at least one person, has possibly convinced said-person’s cousin that she’s trying to corrupt him, and started to make a name for herself - whether it’s good or bad is yet to be seen -, and yet Mick Mars, nineteen-year-old gas station attendant, apprentice electrician, and aspiring guitar player is her closest friend. 

But she’s always been kind of terrible at making friends her own age.

“You have lost all respect from me,” Mick told her on Monday morning after the party, over the counter of the gas station as he’s ringing her up for her smokes and iced coffee before she went to school, “you could have picked anyone to mack on at that party, and you chose Tommy fuckin’ Lee?”

“He was nice to me, what was I meant to do?” Lola declared, realizing too late that that statement revealed absolutely too much about herself to a near stranger. Mick, however, just gives her a flat look.

“You need higher standards.” He doesn’t seem too phased by her. Lola takes this in stride, and nods, agreeing with a sigh. 

“What time do you finish work?” She asks, changing the subjects quickly as she’s pulling out a bill from her back pocket, “dad said he’s happy to let you have a look at that weird light switch that doesn’t do anything that I was telling you about.” 

“I finish at ten tonight, I’m working a double,” he groans at the very thought of it. Lola gives him a sympathetic look, and tells him to only come around if he’s up to it, otherwise leaving it for another day.

That’s the day that Lola realises the whole school knows about her and Tommy at the party, that she has Art with Charlotte before lunch, and also that Charlotte can’t look her in the eye.

Tuesday the school realises that she’s not just Lola Who Gives It Up For Free At Parties, but that she’s Lola The New Girl and that they don’t know anything about her beyond that. There’s a guy in her wood working class with long black hair and a dangerous smile that winks at her; she flips him off, knowing all he cared about was knowing if the rumours were true. She’s got AP French last period with that ginger from the party who wouldn’t stop laughing, Eileen; she’s a lot more serious, sober. The cheerleader, Heather, won’t stop giving her these weird, calculating looks.

Wednesday there’s a new rumour, that she was expelled from her last school. The population of the school hasn’t decided what exactly they think she was expelled for yet. Turns out she has English with that guy from her woodworking class, he just hadn’t turned up for their lesson on Monday; he sits at the back like Lola, in the other corner, and the teacher calls him Nikki in a tone like she’s already disappointed. Lola can see why, he fell asleep at his desk. Art last period with Charlotte; she still barely looks at Lola. 

Thursday. Heather asks in AP French if Lola’s heard what everyone’s saying about her; her tone is sweet and dangerous in equal measure and Lola doesn’t trust what’s about to come out of her mouth. The new rumour is that Lola was expelled for sleeping with a teacher; something about the glint in Heather’s eye is cruel, and Lola asks her sweetly if she’s more jealous of Lola or the teacher. That shuts Heather up fast, and Eileen’s cough behind them sounds more like she’s trying to hide a laugh. But it still gets to her; Lola focuses so hard on ignoring the girls gossiping loudly about her at their station behind her in Home Economics that she burns the apple danishes she was attempting, and she throws the burnt pastries, and the tray they’d been cooking on, into the bin until she realises her mistake and sulkily fishes the tray out again. Thankfully, the teacher didn’t notice.

Friday, and Lola hasn’t paid much attention to Vince, whose house she’s been to but who she hadn’t properly met until their classes had P.E at the same time; he’s in the year below her, but still manages to sidle up to her while they’re both waiting for their teachers to prepare the field for whatever torture they’re masquerading as physical exercise today. She tells him to fuck off; there’s something about the way he conducts himself that she doesn’t like, like he’s putting on a show of being shallow and vain and the life of the party. Instead, Vince’s voice goes quiet and he tells her that Tommy’s a good kid with a good heart -

“You give this speech to everyone you caught making out at your parties, or just me, ‘cos you think I’m a bitch and I’m gonna hurt one of ‘your bros’?” She snapped, lip curling, and Vince’s brow creases into a frown, “I’m not his fucking girlfriend, we made out a little, you don’t have to act like I’m going to break his heart, so piss off.”

A moment passes, and he appears to don his shallow, playboy mask when he asks her slyly if the rumours are true. She shoves him hard enough that he skitters back a few feet, and Lola earns her first after school detention.

The thing is, she and Tommy are already on the same page about this, it was a what happens while drunk at a party stays at that party. Or at least, it’s meant to. Either way, Charlotte’s protectiveness, and Vince’s... attempt at protectiveness was unwarranted. Maybe it’s because Tommy, for whatever reason, has started hanging around Lola at lunch.

She doesn’t sit in the cafeteria like the rest of them, or even on that little section of the roof the intimidating pack of punks, rockers, and smokers have found a way to get to. Lola sits against the fence near the science building, close to the carpark that’s always open for some stupid reason, as though she’s contemplating bolting.

“Don’t you have friends?” Lola’s tone is kind of hard, and perhaps her words are on the nose, and a little cruel, but it’s Wednesday, and this is the third day in a row he’s found her and spent the entirety of lunch with her. They don’t speak much, Lola smokes and picks apart whatever her dad’s latest cooking experiment is before she eats it, and Tommy practices twirling his drumsticks. 

“I have friends, do you?” Tommy responds, more than a little defensive, rubbing at his brow where he’d just managed to hit himself mid-drumstick-twirl, taken aback by her question. Lola gives him a flat look. “Someone told me you were expelled from your last school,” Tommy’s gaze shifts to the carpark, to the last car and it’s telltale rocking and fogged up windows.

“They say why?”

“Nah,” Tommy shakes his head, scowl softening as he gets back to practicing, “it true?” Lola’s picking out and eating the apple chunks from the slice of pie her father had packed for the day, still watching the car with the mildest of interest. She shakes her head. Tommy hums noncommittally. They spend the rest of lunch in silence.

“He keeps hanging out with me!” The following afternoon, Lola gripes to Mick on his smoke break after she gets out of school for the afternoon.

“You keep hanging out with me,” Mick points out, peeling the label off of a bottle of soda.

“And?”

“I don’t tell you to fuck off.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Because,” and Mick heaves a heavy sigh, like it pains him to admit, “we’re friends, Lola,” but he pauses and amends, “God knows why.”

“Fuck you, I’m a delight,” Lola huffs, and pulls her oversized denim jacket tighter around herself to ward off the chill of the afternoon breeze. If this were pretty much any other state, they’d be knee-deep in snow; thank God for LA, snow’s pretty for five minutes before it’s a pain.

“Do you tell him to fuck off?” Mick asks pointedly, as if exhausted that he has to spell it out for her. Lola’s quiet, but her answer’s clear. Mick clears his throat with a cough. Lola’s scowl deepens. 

She brings it up to her father that night. 

“Do you reckon Tommy’s trying to be my friend?” She asked, gaze intense as she focuses on slicing apples into little cubes. Leo, her father, who was kneeding a blend of spices into a ball of dough that would end up being a pie crust, paused.

“The kid who has been hanging out with you at lunch?” He thought for a moment, “the one from the party?”

“I told him it was nothing serious-” Lola tried, exasperatedly cutting the apples a little rougher, but her father’s warm, gentle laugh cut her off.

“Yes, I think he’s trying to be your friend,” he told her, which Lola hadn’t exactly wanted to hear, but the information was easier to digest coming from him than it was coming from Mick, “he obviously likes you -”

“But I told him -”

“I know, you told him it wasn’t serious, but dear, that doesn’t mean he likes you less as a person - you’re a very cool cat, I can see why he’d want to be your friend,” he gives her finger guns, and Lola can’t help but laugh softly at his attempt to be hip. 

“Christ, dad,” Lola huffs, smiling fondly, but he’d managed to cheer her spirits considerably. 

“I burnt my danishes today,” Lola’s voice goes quiet as she goes back to focusing on her task, and her dad makes a noise of intrigue, “got distracted and crisped the whole tray.”

“You’ll get ‘em next time; just fifteen minutes, remember?”

“Fifteen minutes, no distractions,” Lola agreed, almost by rote, thankful that he doesn’t ask about what had distracted her. She can still hear the whispered gossip and giggles that had come from the cooking station behind her in Home Economics.

Her dad knows that her peers think she was expelled from her last school, but she keeps her mouth shut about the fact that today they’d decided it was because she had relations with a teacher; he knows almost everything about her, but he didn’t need to know about a whole school calling her a slut. He’d blow it out of proportion, and it isn’t getting to her since she knew for a fact it wasn’t true. 

They finish the apple pie with it’s rosemary and lemongrass crust in good spirits. The flavours don’t go together as well as Leo had hoped, but it’s another step closer to the perfect apple pie he’d been trying for. Leo packs her two of the leftover slices for lunch, as a not-so-subtle hint. 

On Friday, Lola hands Tommy a plastic container with a piece of apple pie, with a rosemary and lemongrass crust in it.

“Is it poison?” He asks. Lola doesn’t look at him, picking the individual apple pieces out and eating them one at a time.

“The crust tastes weird if you eat it with the filling,” Lola’s voice is flat as she explains instead of answering, “but the apples are sweet.” She eats another cube of apple, then breaks off a corner of the golden, perfectly cooked crust, now cold and stiff from spending the night in the refrigerator. 

“Why are you giving me this?” 

“Eat it or don’t, I don’t care,” Lola tells him, hunching further in on herself; like this, she can’t see the way Tommy’s expression has broken out into a smile.

“Thanks Lola,” but the smile is evident in his voice, confirming all of her suspicions at once. Tommy took her at her word when she said the rumours weren’t true, even if the rest of the school believed them, so Lola supposes she’s actually okay with the fact that her second ever friend in the entirety of California is the marching band geek in the year below her who she made out with at a party once. 

Also maybe she’s just kind of terrible at making friends.

you and me baby! we are the future! and the future is bleak.

“Wait, you’ve never met Nikki Sixx?” Tommy asked, sitting patiently with his back against the fence, his hand resting on her knee as she fills in the the nails of his left hand with black sharpie, “didn’t you go to his gig the other week?”

“I didn’t know anyone,” Lola pointed out, and Tommy makes a thoughtful noise.

“You’d love him, he’s so fucking cool,” he assured her, which made Lola give pause; Tommy also thinks Vince is fucking cool, and she wants to throw Vince out a window, “he was the one on bass.” 

“The one in the leather pants?” Lola couldn’t help but smile at the memory; she’d appreciated it at the time, and could appreciate it now. Tommy, however, rolled his eyes.

“The girls love the leather pants,” he gave a quiet sigh, before adding, almost to himself, “wish I had leather pants.” 

“Leather pants would look good on you,” Lola pinches at his thigh for a moment, and goes back to filling in his nails. missing Tommy’s pleased, flustered little smile. 

“You know Freddie paints his nails like this,” Tommy says instead, changing the topic of conversation.

“Freddie?”

“Mercury. From Queen; you know Queen, right?” And he sounds kind of skeptical, like if she doesn’t know them, they can’t be friends anymore. Lola pauses again, her hand soft on Tommy’s where she’s filling in around his ring finger’s cuticle.

“I wanna climb John Deacon like a fucking tree,” she mutters, which startles a laugh out of Tommy, his hand jerking up to cover his mouth, making Lola leave a black line against his knee, through the rip in his jeans. When she looks up at him, however, her eyes are shining with mirth, “come on, man, you must have seen the video of them performing in Montreal last year!” And she licks her lips, watching Tommy’s blush grow steadily darker. After a beat, Lola bursts out laughing, shattering the tension and shifting to sit beside him, idly doodling on her own hand with the marker as Tommy shakes his head with amusement.

Lola starts humming Back Chat to herself, and Tommy leans his head back against the wire of the fence, listening for a moment.

“You and Charlie would get along great too,” he considers, and Lola doesn’t stop humming, nor does she look to him, “she likes Roger, but probably just because she thinks he’s pretty.” Lola can hear his eyeroll without even seeing it, and she’s not sure why, but she files that information away in the back of her mind; she’d never gotten an especially shallow vibe from Charlotte, but there was a uncertain undeniable appeal to Roger Taylor’s pretty-boy charm.

“Didn’t his girlfriend leave him for Bowie?” Lola asks mildly, barely pausing to speak between humming notes.

“Rocket Mercury?”

“Her name’s Rocket?” Lola snorts, finally looking at him, and Tommy’s lips twisted into an amused grin. 

“Her name’s Ash, but everyone calls her Rocket,” he says, like he’s in the know, and Lola stays quiet, nodding and trying not to laugh, “and yeah, I think so, she’s been with a few people since him I think; Bowie, this girl from this English band Hawkwind, Elton John maybe? Or someone around him I think.” Tommy nods, and Lola’s kind of intrigued as to why he knows so much about Queen’s drummer’s partner, but something else has caught her attention.

“A girl from Hawkwind?” Tommy doesn’t seem to notice the way Lola’s voice has softened, or how her expression has dropped to something carefully neutral. She’s drawing a little flower on the knuckle of her thumb.

“One of their dancers, Stacy, maybe?” Tommy’s own tone is light, like he doesn’t even realise Lola’s hanging onto his every word regarding this one little detail about a woman she doesn’t even know, “was kind of a scandal, but it was years ago; she’s Freddie’s sister after all, maybe it’s genetic.”

“Genetic?”

“Liking girls and guys, you know?” And he pauses. Lola’s frozen beside him, the marker pressed hard against her skin, breath caught in her throat. He throws it out so casually, so easily. Her hands are shaking. The words so kind when he says them, so unlike what she’s used to hearing. Tommy’s already moved on to the next thought. “actually, I’m not sure if Freddie’s like, legit her brother, but anyways, she and Roger are back together; I’m glad.” As if a sixteen-year-old’s opinion on a rock legend’s love life mattered, “he seems happier with her, all his best live shows were when they were together.”

“I’d kill to play half as well as him,” it’s almost wistful when Tommy says it, interrupting Lola’s thoughts, his gaze trained on the sky, as if imagining he’s on stage himself. Lola lets out a long, quiet breath, recentering herself as she looks to him.

“You wanna play drums?” 

“I can play drums,” Tommy tells her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but not nearly as good as Roger Fucking Taylor, can you imagine?” But Lola’s more focused on the -

“I thought you just played in the marching band, can you play, like, full -” and she sits forward, gesturing like she’s tapping on a full drumkit, eyes shinning. Suddenly, in the face of her rare, unrestrained smile, Tommy feels himself growing nervous, like he’ll let her down if he’s not actually as good as he thinks he is.

“I’ve got a kit in my garage,” he admits, and Lola pauses, letting her excitement simmer, as though realising it had gotten the best of her, breaking her cool and aloof facade.

“That’s cool as hell,” she does add, however, and Tommy beams.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, all flustered at even the slightest praise, “man, you’d really like Charlie, I know she looks all fancy and intimidating, but she’s a real softie inside.”

“You are really pushing hard for me to be friends with your cousin,” Lola notes, giving him a sidelong glance, and Tommy’s nose scrunches up, caught out.

“She thinks you’re trying to corrupt me,” he grumbles, “but if you guys met she’d know you’re not.”

“I am corrupting you,” Lola smirks, “next week I plan on peer pressuring you into smoking.”

“I’ve smoked before!” Tommy’s up in arms, like the implication that he hasn’t done something as low-level cool as smoking offends him.

“Dude I was kidding, I gave you half my cigarette yesterday,” Lola reminds him, and the bell rings.

While Lola was more than happy to let sleeping dogs lie, it appeared that Charlotte was not, and less than two days after her conversation with Tommy, Lola finds herself sitting by Charlotte’s side in their shared art class.

It’s the last class of the day, and Charlotte’s the one who sits by Lola. There’s no preamble, barely acknowledging the decision, just opening her notebook and focusing on the theory the teacher had already started to jot down on the whiteboard.

When they’re given free time, however, to work on personal projects, Charlotte opens her sketchbook and sharpens her pencil, and without looking at Lola, begins speaking quietly.

“Tommy thinks we’d get along,” Charlotte sounds completely innocent and perfectly harmless, but Lola remember how Charlotte had looked at her, part deer-in-the-headlights startled at the realisation, and knee-jerk protective fury, at Vince’s party when she realised who Lola had been kissing. 

“So I’ve heard,” Lola doesn’t look up, but Charlotte’s pencil stills on her paper. After a beat, Lola turns to see Charlotte giving her a curious look. Propping her head up on her hand, Lola gives a thin, amused smile, “he also thinks I’d be good friends with Nikki Sixx; was he the one you yelled at, at the gig?”

Instead of being flustered or going red at the mention of the moment, Charlotte’s expression lights up, as if the idea somehow delights her, and slowly she’s nodding. All her earlier reservations and hostility was quickly leaving her.

“Yeah, actually I told Nikki you reminded me of him, actually -”

“I remind you of Nikki?” Lola’s grin widened, and she shifted to face Charlotte further. 

“He’s kind of a tool -” Charlotte blurted after a moment of contemplation, and Lola’s eyebrows raised in amused surprise. Charlotte’s quick to backtrack, “I mean, I’m not saying you are- well, I don’t know you, but I mean, Tommy -” Charlotte frowns at that, expression falling as she considered quietly, “actually, I mean, I love him, but he’s not the greatest judge of character; he thinks Nikki hangs the stars, despite never really speaking to him,” she pauses and heaves a sigh of realisation, “that probably why he thinks so highly of him -”

“I thought they were friends,” Lola’s genuinely surprised, given how kindly Tommy had spoken of him.

“Half the school is terrified of Nikki, half seems to be in love with him; Tommy’s in the second half.”

“And which half are you?”

“I’m the only person who seems to think he’s just kind of a pest,” Charlotte’s response is surprisingly mild, as if she doesn’t quite believe what she’s saying.

“He’s talented, though,” Lola offers, and Charlotte looks back to her, as if brought from her own thoughts. There’s a pause, a lull. Lola puts down her pen, and turns more fully to Charlotte, stretching her arm out over the desk, and resting her head fully on it, like a particularly smug cat stretching out in the sun. Charlotte is slower to put down her pencil, but does so after another moment, pristine fingernails drumming against her sketchbook for a moment. 

“He was talented,” Charlotte agreed, thought it sounds like she doesn’t quite want to, “my ex actually got me into his kind of music, he was a fan of Nikki’s too; I’d tell Nikki I enjoy his music but it’d go straight to his ego,” and she casts Lola a sidelong look, lips stretched into a smirk, which Lola returns. 

“I am a little bit of a tool,” Lola finally admits with a self deprecating grin, and Charlotte shakes her head.

“You’d fucking love him,” Charlotte tells her, with a strained, sort of resigned huff of laughter, like the concept of them meeting was a little bit horrifying, and already exhausting.

“You like his kind of music,” Lola circled back around to quickly, “never pictured you as a hard rocker, you’re very...” and she trails down, looking at Charlotte’s pristine cheerleading uniform, and thick, black tights, the only thing protecting her legs from the Winter air. The blonde shifts a little uncomfortably under the scrutiny, brow furrowing.

“I know,” Charlotte says flatly, crossing her ankles, far too self aware in the moment, “you expect me to just be listening to nothing but Abba and Madonna all day?” She sneers, suddenly haughty again, and Lola licks her lips, intrigued; she can tell she’s pushed a button, and debates for a moment if she wants to press it further. 

“Not all the time,” Lola said, sitting back up slowly, “but I mean, I’m kind of partial to Does Your Mother Know, there’s no shame in loving Abba,” she shrugs, and Charlotte lets herself visibly relax. 

“Never pictured you as an Abba fan,” Charlotte actually grins.

There’s a distinct lack of hostility in the air between the two girls by the time the class ends, after spending the entire class gushing over various bands across a surprising range of genres, and Lola quickly finds she appreciates how wrong her initial impression of Charlotte had been.

As they’re leaving for the day, or well, Lola’s leaving, and Charlotte’s heading to cheer practice, the conversation lulls as Charlotte grows thoughtful.

“Hey, just... Tommy’s kind of a hopeless romantic,��� and even as she speaks, she knows Lola’s growing irate at Charlotte’s hesitant tone, “and honestly, the girls he goes for usually don’t... they don’t usually give him the time of day, and he obviously thinks the world of you, I just don’t want you to -”

“I’ve told him that I don’t want to date him; he’s the one who keeps hanging around me,” Lola’s own tone appears to surprise Charlotte, now that she understands the root of the other girl’s protectiveness, “we’re...” and the word catches in Lola’s throat for a moment, knowing that speaking it makes it true, “friends.” 

Lola glances at Charlotte out the corner of her eye, and sees the way Charlotte’s lips twist into a pleased little smirk.

“I was just making sure.”

love is stupid. happiness is admitting we aren’t better than stupid.

Leo Fields, thirty-nine years old, owner of soon-to-be-named Leo Diner’s in suburban LA, a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America, who worked in the luxurious Parker House restaurant in Boston and quit after ten years there, including three years as Sous Chef and one year as Head Chef, only to open his own 50s style diner a mere ten minutes away in Salem, has and will always claim his favourite food is Easy Cheese.

Once, a long time ago, Lola had asked him why.

She’s asked him a lot of things, why he’d left his high-end restaurant to essentially flip burgers, why he kept his hair long, what his tattoos meant -

Lola’s eight, sitting on the counter and swinging her legs while Leo was crushing garlic to add to their dinner, his hair tied back into a large bun atop his head.

“People will try and tell you that just because something is expensive, fancy, or higher class,” Leo had rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at that, putting on a voice to make his daughter laugh, “that it’s better; they are wrong. If something brings you joy, it is better than all things that do not bring you joy, no matter how fancy the things you don’t like are,” he’d told her very seriously, “better is not real, better is what you believe; better for you means healthier, and that’s real, but when people use better to mean good, they mean that it’s good in their mind, and maybe you agree, but maybe you won’t.” And he scrapes the garlic into the pan and oil cooking on low as he then began dicing onions.

“I use all my fancy training and knowledge to make foods I think are better, but now I get to also serve them with a smile, and I get to talk to the people I’m giving the food to, get to know them, let them know they’re welcome here,” he tries to smile while his eyes are watering from the onions, almost finished cutting them. “People in my old fancy restaurant didn’t want that, they wanted you to think they were better than you, and if you thought their food wasn’t good, that’s because you’re not fancy enough, and you’re not welcome here.” 

“But that’s wrong,” Lola said with a slight frown, looking to her father for confirmation, and after he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, he beamed.

“Exactly,” he nodded and scraped the diced onions into the pan too, moving easily about the kitchen to pull mince from the refrigerator, “people liking something different to you is actually great; if everyone in the world liked Easy Cheese, we’d never be able to buy it!” And Lola laughed at that, the example making it easy for her to understand his point, “but making them feel bad for liking those things, that’s bad; that’s why I have my hair long, why I have my tattoos, they’re part of who I am, they’re part of my family’s history and where I come from, and I like them. If someone else is rude to me because of them, then I know right away that’s not someone I want in my life. People like to think they’re better than other people for stupid reasons sometimes.”

“Like if they’re fancy or not?” Lola asks, and Leo gives her a fond smile and nod.

“Like if they’re fancy or not.”

Leo’s not sure if Lola even remembers this, but he does. So when Lola, seventeen years old, standing in the kitchen, eating a ham and Easy Cheese sandwich after school, tells him that Charlotte, the girl in her art class, Tommy-from-the-party’s cousin, complimented her jacket, the pin-and-patch-covered, black, denim, proto-crust-punk, heirloom he’d loaned to her since she’d asked to wear it when starting a new school, and had barely gone a day without it, he can read into her smile even when it’s hidden behind her sandwich.

“Sounds like she has good taste,” Leo leans his hip against the counter top, legs feeling the warmth of the oven where he’s got a loaf of herb and garlic bread baking away. 

Lola spends a full twenty minutes enthusing about Charlotte’s taste in music, eyes bright and tone animated. He only interrupts her to hand her a packet of prosciutto and a bundle of asparagus, so she could help him prepare for dinner, but it doesn’t slow her down, hands working quickly, while Leo boiled potatoes and simmered some garlic in butter on a low heat. 

Both Lola and Leo know why Lola’s been so hesitant to make friends since moving, and she knows he’d never push her into friendship, but Lola also knows it hurts him to see her lonely.

“Hey dad, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lola says after a long pause, finally taking a breath after she’s finished recounting her day to him, “you know Queen, right?”

“Do I know Queen?” Leo jokingly scoffed, “Lola, I’m the one who introduced you to Queen.” He reminded, and Lola gave a small smile, but her heart wasn’t in it; she wasn’t usually nervous, but talking about this sort of thing still made her heart race a little. Seeing her hesitant expression, Leo’s own softens, and he turns down the potatoes to turn his full attention to her, “what about Queen?”

“I didn’t know Freddie’s sister was with the drummer,” Lola starts, fiddling with the final piece of asparagus. She’s quick to follow it up before she can chicken out, “and I didn’t know... she’s like Bowie, and Fred, and... and me, you know?” Lola finally wraps up the final vegetable and places it on the glass baking tray with the rest, before she looks to her father who was watching her pensively, hoping he understands what she’s trying to say.

“That’s little Rocket Mercury you’re talking about, isn’t it?” He asked as a smile stretched across his lips, “I heard that about her, I always thought she was so cool, she worked on Spinal Tap, you remember I took you to see Spinal Tap a few months ago?” 

Lola’s heart eases in her chest at his words, his warmth, the way he seems to reflect positively on the news. While Lola knew she didn’t have anything to worry about, since the whole reason Leo had taken her and moved across the country was her mother’s less-than-kind reaction to the news of Lola dating a girl, the memory of it all still made her nervous.

Leo’s entire face lights up, and he makes a loud exclamation, like suddenly remembering some vital information, snapping Lola out of her dwelling.

“How have I never played you any Dusty Springfield?” He announces, picking up the glass tray from the table and placing it to the side, “I’ve got some of her records in my collection,” the oven timer goes off and he asks Lola to watch the potatoes so they don’t overboil while he takes out the bread and puts the asparagus in, “Dusty’s like you too; she’s a pop-star from the sixties, lovely voice, told the Evening Standard she liked girls and boys all the way back in nineteen-seventy.” He says as he sets the timer for the asparagus, and Lola wraps her arms around him from behind, if only to hide how wide she’s smiling.

“She pretty?” Lola asked, grinning against his soft, woolen sweater. Leo gently pet her hands where they were wrapped around his middle, giving a warm laugh.

“Very; it’s no wonder girls and boys liked her too.”

Lola had never seen her father flinch in the face of change, and for that she would always be grateful for him. The only time she’d ever seen him lose his cool was when he’d come to her defense against her mother’s bigotted views; apart from that, she’d never known anyone more willing to go with the flow.

Take last week, for instance, Mick had taken Saturday off from the gas station to go look at the fixture Lola had mentioned not seemingly connected to anything. Leo had finally had the red and white, checkered floor installed earlier that week, and the booths had been reupholstered over Thursday and Friday in a shiny, inviting, deep peach, to compliment the warm aesthetic completed by the pleasantly sunny walls. 

One of the many things about Lola is that she know when people look at her father, they never expect him to be the embodiment of sunshine; six-foot-something, built like a tank from doing a majority of the manual labor around his diners on his own. His traditional, Hawaiian tattoos were on full display today, across his chest, arms, and legs, wearing a singlet and shorts despite it being the middle of winter, after spending all morning hauling an industrial freezer into the kitchen, with what little help Lola could offer. He wears his long, wavy black hair in a ponytail down his back; the only thing that ever betrayed the warmth of his personality was the crows feet by his eyes, the laugh lines around his mouth, and the kindness in his eyes themselves.

Leo Fields, teddy-bear in the body of a GI Joe, took one look at Mick Mars, the weary, rather scrawny teenager with barely any face visible for his long, shaggy, dyed black hair, and gave him a bright smile, ushering him inside. He introduces himself, and immediate asks what kind of music Mick listened to.

“I fucking hate Kiss,” Mick had said immediately, knee-jerk hostility, the way he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other being the only giveaway to how intimidated he felt.

“They can be a lot some times,” Leo had shrugged, gesturing to the jukebox, “I’ve already put a few of my favourites in, you wanna see if anything catches your eye?” Mick moves quietly, as if afraid to make a noise, even stepping in combat boots he barely makes a sound, and Leo makes mention that he’s going to freshen up, and that Lola knows what switch needs to be looked at. 

“Hendrix?” Mick says with a hint of pleased surprise, right before Leo leaves, and Lola’s father gives a nod.

“Put it on, man, turn it up loud; it’s Electric Ladyland in there, right?” And at Leo’s question, Mick nods. Leo gives a delighted thumbs up, and heads upstairs to the flat above the diner.

“That’s your dad?” Mick asks, voice low after Leo’s disappeared, hitting play on the Jimi Hendrix record. Lola’s sitting on the counter, swinging her legs; she knows looks like him, same face, same long, dark hair, same copper complexion, it’s usually the staggering difference in their respective physicalities that seemed to trip people up, so his confusion wasn’t a surprise.

“That’s my dad,” Lola agrees, with a slight nod, looking around the warm and inviting diner that still smelled like new vinyl from the seats. She’d light a candle or two later. 

Lola knows the rumours going around town about the diner, about how it’s owner was a chef, about how it’s hopefully going to serve better food than the last owners, but also how everyone knew very little about the new owner beyond that. It made her giddy, like she had a secret, to know that her father was capable of blowing their expectations out of the water with his food alone. Back in Salem, Leo’s was known for restaurant-quality food at, well, diner prices. All the fries were hand cut, there was always home made pie or slice or cookies on sale, the beef patties were made with real mince and mixed with Leo’s special blend of herbs and spices, and fish was delivered fresh, daily. 

Lola knew her father knew what it was like to be discriminated against based on his looks, and how hard he’d fought to prove his skills as a chef, so in turn, he hired based on attitude and experience, and trying to give those who may not have had a fair shot an opportunity. Leo had always paid well, treated his workers with kindness, and tried to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. The diner had only ever made a modest profit, despite it’s popularity, but it had never been about the money for her father.

Back at Lola’s old high school, if you were popular, you looked for a job at the mall, but if you were an outcast, a loner, or a stoner, you applied for Leo’s; her dad had the ability to bring out the best in people, no-one wanted to disappoint Leo.

Her dad would never go anything as gauche as brag, but he has always prided himself on the quality of his diner and his food, glad to be putting his years of training and experience to use for people who’s appreciate it. 

Mick clears his throat, snapping Lola out of her thoughts.

“Light switch?”

Mick thinks the switch probably connected to an exhaust fan the previous owner had removed, which baffled both Lola and Leo, seeing as how they’d had several exhaust fans installed, and the idea that this place had it’s one removed is unthinkable; how had they ever gotten the smell out?

After, Leo invites Mick up to have a look through his record collection, to recommend some for the jukebox, while he attempted a maple and walnut soufflé. 

The moment Mick mentions he wants to join a band, Leo lights up, peppers him with questions, what type of music he likes to play, his influences, what type of band he’d like to form. Seemingly unused to the overwhelming interest and positivity regarding his aspirations, Mick is almost startled into being forthcoming, and quickly warms to Lola’s dad.

While the soufflé’s in the oven, the three of them sit on the roof and smoke, while Leo reminisces about seeing Cream live, a few months after Lola was born, and how he’d swaddled her in his concert shirt, only for her to take a liking to it, and had used it as a blanket up until she started daycare. At hearing this, Lola ducks her head to hide her smile, knowing she still had that shirt, though it was more hole than shirt at this point, hanging in her cupboard. 

Occasionally, when she looks to him, Lola sees Mick regarding her with confusion, and okay, maybe she can understand why; he knows her to be reserved and dry, but with Leo, she’s outgoing and talkative and smiles so wide he can see her teeth. There’s barely a hint of her aloof façade around her father, and as Mick spends more time with him, it’s clear he can see why.

“Mick’s cool,” Leo announces with a grin when Mick himself has left, putting foil over the leftover soufflé for later, while Lola washes the few dishes and is more than happy to agree with him.

They spend Sunday decorating the diner, making it look less sparse with photos and hanging and various bits of music and pop culture memorabilia, while the jukebox blared rock and roll. A few people pass by in time to see Lola and Leo in an air guitar competition, but neither of them really care. Leo’s looks more like home by the time the sun goes down. 

there will always be someone better than you. but on the bright side, who cares?

Eileen sits next to her in AP French during the entire last week of school for the semester. Everything she does seems so perfectly calculated, this change in seating included, but she refuses to acknowledge it. Heather clicks her tongue, clearly annoyed that Eileen had taken the seat she had previously vacated the day Lola staked her own next to it, and judging by Eileen’s innocent little smile, that alone made it worth it.

Lola tries not to pay too much attention to Heather, pretty, mean, and popular, almost the exact stereotype Lola had assumed Charlotte to be before she’d actually befriended her. They only have French together, but Heather keeps watching her, Lola sees it out of the corner of her eye, but her glare has become more speculative, more thoughtful as the weeks have passed, and Lola’s not quite sure what to make of it. Whatever scathing personal attack Heather’s probably working on is her business, she doesn’t know shit about Lola, so Lola tries not to care.

Once Eileen sits next to Lola, the glare comes back in full force anyhow.

On Thursday, the last AP French lesson for the semester, Eileen offers Lola a stick of spearmint gum, and it feels kind of like a test. Lola takes the gum anyways, and Eileen smiles at her, surprisingly genuine. 

“You’re Charlotte’s friend,” Lola says, and Eileen’s smile widens.

“You’re the girl who kissed her cousin,” she says. Lola’s whole expression falls, mouth flattening into a thin, unamused line, ready to go on the defensive. 

“And?”

Eileen shrugs, says nothing more on the subject, instead, glancing at Lola’s hands.

“My mom would kill me for wearing black nail polish, but it looks so cool on you,” She says, and Lola bites back a jaded response about her own mother, looking to her own hands, and the fresh and shiny coat of polished she’d applied the night before. 

“Your mom kind of sounds like an asshole, if black nail polish is enough to get her riled up,” Lola says, without even thinking about how harsh the words sounded, but once the words are out, she adds, “and I know from asshole moms,” for good measure. Internally, she’s berating herself; if she talks about her mom, she’s terrified that she’s eventually going to answer questions about her mom, like where she was, and why Lola hates her.

“She’s just a perfectionist, and I don’t think black would suit me anyhow, so it’s not really an issue,” Eileen responds, as if she barely cares that Lola implied her mother was an asshole, and Lola lets herself relax a little, “I’m partial to a french tip,” Eileen holds out her hands to show her own manicure, the pale pink and white practically gleaming, obviously salon done. 

“I coloured Tommy’s nails with sharpie,” Lola says while looking at Eileen’s elegant fingers, and Eileen actually huffs a laugh at that.

“I saw; he’s very proud of them.” 

Something in Lola’s chest tightens at that; Charlotte seemed to be a good enough judge of character, and she liked Eileen well enough, so that, for now, was good enough for Lola.

Perhaps that’s why Lola had taken so long to actually speak to Nikki Sixx, despite both Charlotte and Tommy being adamant they’d get along, Charlotte’s proclamation that Nikki was kind of a tool held her back.

It’s not that she doesn’t know who he is; she’s figured out the guy who sleeps through her English classes, is trying to make an acoustic guitar in shop, and who is part of her music classes - once she’d decided to show up to those - is the same person she’d seen on stage in leather pants back at the pub. The guy who Charlotte had yelled at. A tool. Apart from the week the rumours had started circulating about her, he never paid her much attention, so she never felt the need to introduce herself. If he was a tool, she could leave him well enough alone.

Until the first day of the Winter break, apparently. Though for the record, he was the one who spoke to her.

There were technically two music shops in the local mall, a ten minute walk from Lola’s flat above the diner; she’s glad to be close to the CBD, but it also means she can’t justify asking her dad for a ride when it would take her less time to walk than it would for him to find parking. 

But Monday, December 27th, was absolutely fucking freezing. 

The mall itself is teeming with people looking to spend the money they’d gotten over the holiday period, and the workers had already taken down the gaudy Christmas Tree that had sat in the middle of the food court. 

Lola was there at her father’s behest, sticking up and handing out flyers announcing New Year’s Day as Leo’s grand opening, and that they were hiring. She gives everyone at the food court a flyer, sticks up several in various locations, and thinks about heading back to the food court for a second round, to catch any newcomers, or anyone she may have missed, when she spots the music shops.

Bass and Treble were owned by the same people, however Treble seemed to be geared towards more classical music, with pianos and violins and flutes and all manor of orchestra-esque instruments available, while Bass seemed to be committed to rock and roll. 

Nikki Sixx finds Lola crouched in front of the display of sheet music on sale in Bass. 

“Lola, right?”

Lola stands so fast at his voice that her head spins, but she tries not to let it show. She’s on alert when she looks at him, tense, already scowling, which only deepens when she sees who it is.

“Nikki Sixx,” his name is not a question when it leaves her lips, but he seems pleased rather than concerned, that his reputation apparently preceded him. He nods, and looks over at what she’d been examining. 

“Anything good?” He asked, and Lola looks over her shoulder at the display. She’d been seriously considering a book of Elton John’s hits for piano before he’d come along. 

“Still deciding; why?”

“No reason,” he shrugged, taking his time to look nonchalantly at the various amps nearby, “you look like you’d be into this sort of thing,” he notes, acting all smug and coy and weird; Lola rolled her eyes, but didn’t answer.

“You were at my gig, we’re you? Hanging out with that guy from the gas station, right? Mick?” Something about his tone had Lola on edge and defensive.

“You guys were okay,” she says flatly, making it clear as she can that that’s barely a compliment; Nikki, however, smile widely.

“Glowing review, I’ll add it to our poster,” he smirks, before he finally looks her over, gaze zeroing in on the flyers in her hands, “speaking of -” and he snatches one, not that she’s protesting, that’s another one she doesn’t have to get rid of. Nikki’s reading the flyer and frowning, while Lola lets her attention wander to the various keyboards they have on display.

“Where’s this?” Nikki pipes up, sounding genuinely interested, while Lola’s idly playing scales with one hand on the closest, off keyboard.

“A few blocks away,” Lola still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of the town’s geography, “across the road from The Kings Hotel, where I saw you play -”

“The old MacCready place?”

“It’s Leo’s now,” Lola says, arms crossed, sitting low in her hips as she regards Nikki, and the way he’s going over every little detail of the poster, “Charlotte says you’re a tool.”

“Charlotte just hates that she likes me so much,” Nikki doesn’t even miss a beat before answering, and when he looks up to catch Lola’s reaction, his grin is all teeth. Lola can’t help the slight smile she wears as she takes in his response.

“I can see why,” Lola’s not quite sure what she’s going for with her own response, but it comes out more teasing than cutting, and there’s something in Nikki’s eye, or in his smile, or maybe it’s in his easy laughter, that has her heart beating weird in her chest.

A moment passes between them, a shift in the tone, the energy of the interaction as Lola drops her immediate hostility; she’s been doing that a lot lately, but she tries not to dwell on it. It’s now she gets a proper look at him, at his ripped jeans and all black, leather jacket, hair sprayed to high heavens like he’s about to join Poison; he looks unkempt and mean, and Lola’s kind of really into it.

They’re checking each other out, sizing each other up, and they both seem to find something in the other they like, because Nikki’s grinning at Lola when gaze meets hers again, and she’s smirking right back.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she tells him, hip cocked for a moment before she saunters past him, knocking into him with her shoulder purposefully. When Nikki stumbles back, he huffs a laugh, and Lola calls over her shoulder, “Leo’s is hiring by the way, Leo himself would probably love a fucker like you.”

[talesofstyles]

Half A Heart

You couldn’t ask for a better father to your children.

It didn’t matter how tight Harry’s schedules were and how much work he had to do, he always made time for his babies. Harry was a family man (still is and will forever be) and it never failed to warm your heart seeing how much he loved your not-so-little family. You knew it wasn’t easy for him but he always made sure that you and your babies know that you were his number one priority. He always works things around so that his tour schedules match the school holidays, allowing you and the kids to tag along with him wherever he goes. He spent so much more time in London rather than LA after you got married and especially after you had your first baby so that your family didn’t have to go back and forth between the two cities every few weeks.

Work had settled down for a little bit for Harry. He didn’t have to hop on a plane and travel across the globe away for one interview or two as much as he used to. Jeff didn’t require him to make as many appearances on events and he didn’t even think twice before turning down invitations from shows like The Late Late Show or Saturday Night Live. Of course, he still made a new album at least every two years. But the whole process always took place in London now rather than LA, and he was forever grateful for the opportunity to still be able to do what he loves from home.

His new album was due in just six short months and he was still short on songs, which brought a lot of pressure on him. He had got writer’s block for two months which was the longest he had been from not writing a single word on one of his journals that he kept just for song lyrics. You and all three of your children were his muses, but after countless songs about you and the kids he had got to the point where he felt the need to write about something else, which turned out was so much harder than he thought.

Harry was sat on the chair in his study. In front of him, scattered on his desk were his laptop, the said journal with a blank page wide open, his go-to black pen that you always teased about for at least the first six months of your relationship (because who the hell in their right mind spend no less than seven hundred quids on a sodding ball pen?), his laptop opened, showing endless lists of e-mails from everyone at work about his coming up album.

It was Saturday, so it was rare for the kids to see their daddy in his study. You and Harry always try not to do any work-related stuff during the weekend and give your whole attention to your offsprings, so clearly, the kids were not pleased to see their daddy locking himself up in the room all day and not giving them any attention that they deserve.

Although to be honest, he hadn’t been giving you and the kids much attention for the past two weeks. Which of course you understand that he had to work but it was harder for the kids. He didn’t even take George for his football practice on Thursday. He was the one who usually takes him unless he had a really important meeting that he just couldn’t reschedule. Didn’t matter how busy he was, he would make the time for the five years old, determined to make it as their thing. He hoped George would always remember and cherish that because he knew he would. The football club meets at Holland Park, west of Kensington Garden, which was only a stone throw’s away from their home, taking ten minutes maximum of a walk. They always left fifteen minutes before four and not once they ever skipped a little father and son date before they went home. There were a lot of coffee shop and ice cream and milkshake and frozen yoghurt place around the park and on the way home for them to choose. They would sit there for about an hour before they head home. It was the time of the week where Harry could focus his whole attention on his first baby who was growing way too fast for his liking. The thought of his babies growing up made him felt like there was a lump in the back of his throat. It was the time during the week where Harry made sure he was fully present for his little lad.

You tried to keep the kids from bugging their daddy as much as you could. Knowing that he needs to focus on his work but most importantly, you knew for sure that his patience had been running a little thin. He had been a little snappish lately because he had a lot on his plate and you knew it wouldn’t take a lot for him to explode.

When the kids were napping, you thought it was the perfect time for you to went shopping for the week. They were sleeping anyway so you didn’t have to worry about them bothering Harry whilst he worked. You were a little nervous, but you decided to stop by his study before you left to let him know you were going out.

You opened the door a little before peeking inside. “H, m’going to Whole Foods. D’you need anythin’?”

Harry didn’t even look up from his laptop as he shook his head and mumbled “no.”

“Alright.” You commented. Just when you were about to close the door, he cleared his throat. “Are yeh takin’ the kids?”

“No, they’re napping.” You were a little annoyed at the fact that he didn’t even look at you but you ignored it. He just nodded and mumbled “alright” as you closed the door behind you before you went out.

***

You hadn’t returned home yet when your three years old woke up from her nap. She rubbed her eyes as she trailed down the hall looking for you. She had the little giraffe that she got from her Nana Anne clutched in her hand whilst her other hand held the rails tightly as she went down the stairs.

“Mummy?” She called out to you but she got no response. When she reached downstairs, she went straight to the sitting room and she found it empty. Then she went to the kitchen but nobody was there as well.

It was around half past three and her tummy was rumbling because it was the time you usually feed your kids some biscuits and make them some tea. She remembered vividly when you told her to steer clear of her daddy because he needed to work, but she was a little bit peckish so she braced herself and went to her daddy’s study.

She stood on her tiptoes so she could reach the door’s handle and she opened the door slightly. “Daddy!” She beamed as she saw her dad.

Harry mumbled a little “hi”, but his eyes were glued on his laptop as he continued typing. Eleanor walked closer to where Harry was sat, trying to get his attention because clearly, she was having none.

“Daddy, can I get some cuppa and biscuits please?” The little three years old asked. Her eyes looking up at Harry, waiting for him to look at her. Harry glanced at her for a second, literally, before looking back at his laptop.

“M’busy, poppet.” Harry sighed. “Wait for mummy, alright? She’ll be back in a tick.”

The three years old wasn’t pleased. Her brows knitted and she tried to convince him to give her what she wanted. “But daddy, m’hungry!”

“No yer not,” Harry went on. “Y’had lunch earlier so surely you can wait for snacks.”

Both you and Harry were stubborn and it seemed that your three years old got that gene. She sighed heavily and tugged on the hem of Harry’s shirt to get his attention. “But, dad-”

She stopped mid-sentence because Harry startled her. He huffed loudly in annoyance and turned to her. His face was stern and it might be the first time in her three years of life that the little girl was scared of her daddy. “Eleanor, what did I say?!” Harry questioned her, not even bothering to use a term of endearment which was strange for him.

Her lips started to tremble and she was fighting back her tears. She whispered repeatedly “don’t cry, don’t cry” to herself and Harry heard it, but he chose to ignore it. On any other occasion, his heart would drop at the sight of his little girl trying to keep herself from crying. He remembered just a few hours after she was born, he cradled her in his arms as he sat down on the window seat, eyes fixed on the sleeping baby girl. His sleeping baby girl. He tried to memorise her little details. From that wisp of hair to those long eyelashes that most girls would surely be jealous of. To that little button nose and the tiny lips that matched yours. He wondered what had he done in the past to deserve her, and in that moment he promised he would always be there for her. And that he would try harder to be the best father for her and his little boy back home who was no doubt having a blast with his nana and his auntie Gem. He promised to kiss every scraped knee and to be there for her at the end of the slide in the playground to catch her whenever he can. And one of the promises he made for her was that he promised to wipe every tear that would roll down her cheeks because he knew that as much as he hated the thought of his baby girl crying, she would. But he was too caught up with all the things that he needed to do to care at that moment. He was too caught up to realise his baby girl was about to cry because of him. The Harry in that hospital room would probably whack him in the dick for that. “Quit it, please! I need t’work. Just... get out!”

Eleanor ran out of the room without looking back. She was absolutely terrified of her daddy’s harsh tones. Not once Harry had ever talked at the kids in that way and neither had you. Eleanor went upstairs to her shared nursery with her big brother and found him sat on his big boy bed, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes as he let out a yawn.

“Daddy is mean.” She grumbled as she climbed up on her own bed. She pouted, sadness in her features was replaced by anger.

George’s forehead furrowed. Now fully awake and he turned at his little sister. “Wha’ ‘appened?”

“I couldn’t find mummy so I went t’daddy an’ asked ‘im for a biscuit. But daddy yelled very loud.” She went on. “I don’t like it when daddy yells, it makes my chest hurts.”

“Y’want me t’give you a hug?” George offered, opening his arms wide for his little sister. Eleanor nodded and immediately jumped off her bed and ran to him. “Better now?”

She hummed in response. “Mhmm. But m’hungry.”

“Come,” George said as he jumped off his bed. “M’hungry too. Let’s find the biscuits.”

They went down the stairs straight to the kitchen, not daring to even stop for a second outside of Harry’s study. Eleanor trailing behind George like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, one of her hand still clutching the giraffe.

The biscuit tin is in the cupboard that was reserved just for snacks. George took the step stool from near the kitchen island and put it in front of the counter that he needed to climb in order to open the cupboard full of goodies. When he managed to open the cupboard, he took the turquoise tin carefully and placed it on the counter. Eleanor cheered at the sight of the biscuit tin.

“Want a cuppa?” He looked over his shoulder at his little sister. The three year old nodded vigorously. “Alright, I’ll make us some.”

He popped the kettle on before climbing the counter again to get some mugs for Eleanor and himself. He put a lump of sugar on each mug before reaching for the tea bag. The five year old was proud of himself.

He picked up the kettle when the water boiled. He didn’t realise how heavy it was and when he wanted to pour the hot water into the mug, he ended up knocking both of the mugs down, causing the broken pieces to shatter all over the floor with a loud crash. The hot water was spilling all over the counter too and he threw the kettle away in panic because the water was hot.

The loud crash and Eleanor’s scream coming from the kitchen made Harry jumped off his chair and rushed to the kitchen, muttering “for fuck’s sake!” under his breath and groaning in frustration.

“Bloody’ell!” He yelled at the sight of the kitchen in shambles. There were broken pieces of glass all over the floor, water all over the counter and dripping to the floor. The two lumps of sugar and a tea bag made Harry realise that they were trying to make a cuppa.

He acknowledged the mess, but he failed to acknowledge the trembling three and five year olds of his standing in the middle, petrified. He disappeared to get a broom before he reappeared in the kitchen a few seconds later. His brows snapped together and his jaw tightened.

“I told yeh to wait f’mummy!” His voice booming through the kitchen as he swept the broken glass. “So bloody stubborn!”

George tightened his grip on his little sister’s hand. Her body was trembling and from the corner of his eyes, he could see her lower lip quivered. He was scared too, but the five year old knew he needed to act tough for his sister.

“Oh, fuck!” Harry cursed as he wiped the water with the tea towel, not realising the water was hot. “Can you bloody move please, you’re not a sodding sculpture.” He snapped at the kids again as he continued to sweep the remaining of the broken glass.

Harry angrily put the broom against the kitchen island before he bent down to pick the dustpan. The broom fell down to the floor with a loud thump, startling the kids and himself too. A few seconds later, the sound of a wailing baby came from upstairs, indicating that the noises from the kitchen were too much for the baby and it woke her up.

“Great!”

As soon as Harry went upstairs to get the baby, George and Eleanor ran away from the kitchen and to the entry and wait for you there. They sat down on the floor, their backs leaning against the wall and their arms wrapped around their own legs.

“Mummy,” the three year old whimpered, calling out for you. Her eyes were glossy.

“She’ll be back soon.” George soothed her.

The kids sighed in relief at the sound of your car pulling into the drive about five minutes later. They stood up and walked closer to the door, waiting for you to appear. Harry was still upstairs with the baby who was still crying.

You startled as you saw your children’s figures appeared as soon as you opened the front door. You looked at them in confusion because of how upset they seemed. Eleanor reached her arms out for you and you dropped your groceries to the floor without hesitation before you bent down to pick your little girl up. “Wha’s the matter, poppet? Hmm?”

She broke down at your soft tone. “Daddy,” she said between her sobs.

Your brows knitted as you looked at her big and round green eyes that match a certain someone. “Are you looking for daddy? He’s in the st-”

“No, mummy, daddy’s being mean.” Your eldest cut you off.

“What?” You looked down at him before pulling him close to you so you could give him a hug as well.

“He yelled at us and he said bad words too.” He went on. “Daddy scared us, mummy.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure daddy didn’t mean to yell. He loves you two so very much, yeah? You know that.” You consoled your babies as you walked to the sitting room, abandoning your groceries by the front door. You sat down on the sofa and cuddled Eleanor on your lap and George climbed up to sat down next to you before snuggling closer.

Eleanor shook her head. Her bottom lip jutting out and you tried your best not to laugh at her angry expression. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Eleanor, don’t say that.” You knew Harry had been acting like a sodding plonker who needed to be whacked in the dick but he was a good father. He still is a good father. He loved his babies dearly and he would do anything for them. “Look at mummy,”

She looked up at you. A scowl still plastered across her face at first but her expression softened as she saw you.

“Daddy loves you, sweet girl. And you too, George. Daddy loves you two so very much and just because he was being mean once doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you anymore. Sometimes, we get mean when we’re tired.”

“But, but, but-” she stuttered before she continued. “Daddy scared me, mummy. It made my chest hurts.”

“Yeah, mummy, he was really scary. I’ve never seen daddy like that before.” Your eldest piped in and you pulled him closer to you. As much as you wanted to snuggle your babies on the sofa, you couldn’t ignore the sound of the wailing baby from upstairs that hadn’t died down from the second you came in. 

“He’s just tired, my love. I promise.” You smiled at both of your kids. “Mummy’s gonna check on your sister, can you play a bit in the playroom? It’s quite sunny outside, we can go to the park later if you want?”

Both of their little faces beamed instantly at the mention of the park. “But mummy, can we have some biscuits please?” Eleanor asked you.

“Daddy didn’t give you your goûter yet?” The kids shook their head. “I asked daddy but daddy yelled at me, mummy,” Eleanor answered.

George chimed in. “I wanted to make a cuppa for E and I and get some biscuits too, but the kettle was really heavy. I ended up breaking the mugs. M’sorry, mummy.”

“Is that why daddy yelled?” You asked your littles and both of them nodded. “Then maybe daddy yelled because he was scared you’d get hurt. You can make your own cuppa but mummy or daddy has to be there incase you need help. Can you two promise me that won’t happen again?”

“Promise, mummy.” They repeated their action and mumbled the words in unison.

You made them their tea, fed them some biscuits and set aside some fruit pouches for you to take to the park later before you went upstairs to your littlest baby’s nursery. You opened the door slowly and you found your baby trying to wiggle out of her daddy’s arms as she continued to let out an ear-piercing scream. She reached out to you as soon as she spotted you and your heart was breaking at the sight. Harry glanced over his shoulder at you and he handed the baby to you straight away before leaving the room without a word.

As soon as you calmed the baby down, you brought her downstairs and put her in the playpen before you head to Harry’s study in hope that you could knock some sense into that pretty head of his.

You walked in straight away and didn’t even bother to knock because you were fuming. Normally, you would wait until the kids were asleep before you started a fight but you had it up here with that bawbag of a husband of yours and you just couldn’t wait anymore. You knew he’d got a lot on his plate and he was overwhelmed with work but that didn’t give him a dick pass. You could take it when he was being a dick to you, but when it came to your children, that’s a whole nother story.

Harry was sitting on the chair, jaw clenched and brows knitted, staring intensely at the screen of his computer. You knew that wouldn’t end well, but you also knew that you needed to confront him.

“Harry, did you yell at the kids?” You asked right away. There was no point of beating around the bush. Your arms folded across your chest as you gave him a dirty look.

Your voice was tight and he looked up at you instantly. “Yeah, they were-” He cut himself because he knew if he said something about the kids, that wouldn’t help to calm your rage. “I’ll, uh, I’ll apologise later.”

“Did you know they were crying by the front door?” You continued.

He replied but he didn’t look at you, staring at the wall behind you instead. “No, I thought they were in the playroom.”

“They weren’t.” You shook your head. “They were crying quietly by the front door because they were terrified of you. They told me you were being loud and that you cursed in front of them.”

Harry let out a huff and shifted his gaze back to the screen in front of him as if his eyes were glued to it.

You’ve always hated confrontation. In seven years of marriage and eight years of being together, you could count with your fingers on how many times you yelled at your husband. It was rare for you to raise your voice and you tried not to unless necessary. Clearly, this time it was necessary.

"Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" You snapped. You could tell that he was surprised but he kept his cool.

“Can we talk later? I really need t’get things done. I-” he was in mid-sentence when you turned your back and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You were only a couple steps away from the door when you heard heavy footsteps coming closer towards the door. Immediately regretting your previous action, you walked faster towards the kitchen but before you could disappear behind the walls, the door was opened. You could feel him staring at your back.

“Wha’ was all that about?!” he seethed. 

“Why are you talking to me? Weren’t you the one who asked if we could talk later? Didn’t you have to get things done?” You mocked him out of spite. You knew you were basically adding fuel to the fire but you couldn’t think clearly.

(ooooh everyone’s pissed 👀)

Part two

[whoopsimwritingagain]

Back Home - Jacob Black

A/N: This is an A/U where there’s no mention of the vamps/ Bella, but I’m not outright denying their existence in this universe because this universe would collapse. The character is modeled after Bella in some ways and is original in others. Please send in requests, and commentary on my work,

DISCLAIMER: I am no longer accepting requests for any of the wolves! While I am glad to write any that have already come to my inbox I realized in writing that I simply do not know these characters well enough to feel good about my work or write complexities into the story. Sorry for any inconveniences!! Much love.

Word Count: 1978

Warnings: None

I rolled the last of my suitcases across the hardwood floor of my childhood bedroom into the closet where it would wait to be unpacked. “I think that’s the last of them,” my dad says. I have barely spoken since I arrived. I just can’t seem to find any words worth speaking. My dad knows why I’m here. At this point I feel like the whole town of Forks knows why I, a 22 year old former valedictorian, is moving back into her dad's house and working at the local diner. Everything seemed to be going fine. Better than fine actually, I had earned a coveted paid internship at the Boston Globe that I was set to start the month after my wedding to a promising young medical student. God, I should have known this was coming. That sentence sounds flat out ridiculous.

After graduation we entered the wedding prep whirlwind. Everything had been booked and ordered, but I had to deal with my soon-to-be mother-in-law. So I endured a month of her asking me if we wanted the bridesmaids hair to be curled or braided and teased, or if we should order last-minute gift bags. I endured a month of her silent judging, or not so silent when I wanted to have a glass of red wine after having my teeth whitened. All of that for him to leave me on our honeymoon. Ethan told me that I had changed while he was “too busy to notice,” and that I didn’t make him happy anymore. He said he wished he would have left me at the altar so we wouldn’t need to go through the headache of nullifying the marriage. A three year relationship thrown in the trash and a ring thrown in the ocean (that he billed me for.) So I got on the first flight to Boston from Athens and booked an Airbnb for the remaining weeks until I could move into the apartment I had planned to share with E. And then the unthinkable happened. My contracted position at the Globe was eliminated. I was offered a package, along with the dozens, maybe even hundreds, of employees that lost their jobs thanks to the digitization of journalism. I used most of the money from the package to do four things on the Thursday Evening I was “let go.” 1. I bought my plane ticket to Seattle, and booked a rental car I could take to forks 2. I backed out of my lease. 3. I wrote Ethan a check for the ring. 4. I sent the majority of our wedding presents back to the givers along with a note giving a blunt and apologetic explanation of how my life had fallen out of place.

Knowing all of this, my father gave me my space. He let me not talk the day I moved back in, he let me ignore my old friends, he let me leave my personal mail unopened on the kitchen counter - I didn’t want anyone’s condolences. After the fourth week of me interacting solely with him and my customers at the diner he slid a card for a therapist across the dinner table. Now, I recognize that therapy is very beneficial for a lot of people, and I couldn’t tell you why, but I absolutely did not want to go to therapy. So instead, we found a sort of compromise. I would start talking to people. I wouldn’t ignore the neighbors anymore when he goes over to chat with them, and I’d start going to church with him. But most importantly, I would start seeing one of my old friends - at least once a week. I protested and I tried to find loopholes, but each time he would remind me that I was living in his house rent-free while I worked to pay off my student loans, and I would have to shut up. So I finally started picking up the sympathy calls, or at least the calls, from one person in particular, Jacob Black. Jake, my high school boyfriend, the one that got away if you will. Or rather, the one who stayed behind. Jake and I have a long history. Our dads have been good friends for a long time. My father and I moved to Forks because my dad wanted to downsize our lives after my mother died. Billy and dad met in the very diner I work in now, and apparently Jake’s mom had died 2 years prior. Grief loves company or some shit like that. So we grew up making mud pies and stick forts on the beach. Around high school things got weird and by the end of the first semester of our freshman year we figured it would only hurt more to try and fight the feelings we had developed for each other. So there you have it. High school love.

Jake had been an absolutely perfect boyfriend. Sure, we fought, everyone fights, but we really had something special. Jake is just so light-hearted, and sincere, and physically… well, he’s pretty stunning. Getting through his transition was tough because he was so confused and angry. But we did! I thought if we could make it through that we could make it through anything. I was wrong. March of senior year I was accepted to the University of Washington’s journalism program, and Jake started talking to Billy about what taking a bigger role in the pack would look like. I didn’t want to stay in a small town, but Jake couldn’t leave, he had too deep of a connection. We talked about this after graduation. The decision wasn’t immediate. If anything, that week we made every effort to be closer to each other. Occasionally, after we had sex, or during whatever movie we were watching, one of us would catch the other staring off into space. No doubt contemplating the predicament at hand. It was a mutual ending, but it was still hard, it still hurt for a long time. I even saw a counselor at my college for a while just to try and figure out what I wanted. But we have remained good friends, he even stood at my wedding, so his calls have been the hardest to ignore. The next time he calls me, I answer, and it’s the most relief I’ve felt since I threw my ring into the sea.

We meet the next day at a little cafe. He looks happier than I remember. Jake greets me five minutes early and his beaming smile makes me feel secure. I wave at him right before being engulfed in one of his warm and comfy hugs. For those five seconds it’s like I’m back in high school. This is the least worried I’ve felt since those simpler days. No deadlines, or internship applications, no boyfriend to make me feel like I need to “be better” all the time. Just Jake and cold brew. He starts with small talk, knowingly avoiding the dreaded “how are you” and navigating more comfortable topics like the pleasantly sunny day we were enjoying in the rainy peninsula. He fills me in on the latest pack drama and I regurgitate the bits and pieces of local news I pick up at the diner. He’s making some joke about the Forks kids who have been sneaking onto the beach at the res and as I laugh I instinctively put my hand on his arm. It would be cheesy to call what he makes me feel “electricity”, but that small action definitely made my hair stand on end. Jake must feel the same way because we both blink at the point of contact for a moment before pretending to study the wall. The conversation lulls for a minute. When he starts to talk about the res again he moves his arm, but he doesn’t pull it away, instead he holds my hand.

The cafe closes three hours after we get there, so we grab drink refills and head to our favorite trail. Perfectly stationed between my house and the res. I sit down on a rock near the cliff and Jake comes to sit down by me. We sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the waves. Jake looks over at me now and I can already tell what he’s about to say. He opens his mouth and then thinks better of it. Instead he says “Is it… okay?” “Actually,” I reply, “I think you’re the only person who’s allowed to talk to me about it right now.” “Oh, okay” he gulps and lets it sit for a second. “Y/N I can honestly tell you that I didn’t see it coming. If I did I would have told you I wouldn’t have let you… I wouldn’t have let him!...” Jake is clearly flustered at this point. “I wouldn’t have let it get that far if I thought it would hurt you.” It’s hard to know how to respond to him when he gets like this, equally caring and alpha male, so I think carefully before speaking. “Jake you won’t always be able to tell what’s going to hurt me… no one can. People get hurt in life sometimes there’s nothing you can do about that.” Wrong answer. Jake’s brow furrows. “But I should have been able to protect you! It’s different.” I shake my head. “Jake you can’t be perfect all the time… I know you’re different, and that's special! But… that doesn’t mean that bad things will never happen. A bad thing happened to me, Jake. A lot of them actually. But… now I’m back home. I might not have my job but I have my degree, I’ve got no apartment but I’m not paying rent, and I don’t have a lying husband… but I have a true friend.” There’s a good half-minute of breathy silence “Wow,” Jake finally breaks it, “not a dry eye on the rock.” I smile “Haha Jake.” He turns my chin towards him so we’re making eye contact again “I know you missed my dry humor.” he says with a grin. And then we’re kissing. I don’t know who kissed who or how this started. But he’s kissing me and I’m kissing him. I don’t know how much time passes with my arms around his neck and for the first time since I left Forks, I don’t care that I don’t have the answers to everything anymore. Eventually, he draws away, but not too far away, and asks “friend?” I grin at him and answer “maybe not”

We spend the night talking and curled up in his bed, the same big wooly comforter as when I left. We talk and we talk and we kiss again and eventually, we do more than kiss. If I was talking to one of my friends I would seriously chastise her for sleeping with her high school ex-boyfriend the first night she sees him again  but with Jake, it’s just so different. He isn’t my high school it’s just him and me and everything is exactly like it’s supposed to be. It’s almost six in the morning. His face is lit by the rising sun and I’m laying on his chest. “Jacob” I state. “What” he cocks his eyebrow and wraps his arms tighter around me. “I think I’ve fallen back in love with you.”

Ahh!

So I started writing this in August and obviously college and life hit and I didn’t really forget about it but I just never felt like I had time or motivation to finish it. Then Rona. I hope you all are safe and able to take care of yourself. I’ll fix grammatical stuff as I catch it but please continue to requests and double requests because I will get them done eventually even if I disappear.

[criminalhotch]

The Story of Us~Grayson Dolan Imagine

Could you do something about Gray dating a thick girl? As a thick girl and a Gray girl, I find it harder to imagine gray with a thick girl that I do E. ❤️

A/N: This is supposed to be Gray with a thick girl but I feel like everyone is so picky and toxic with that concept so I made it a detail but it isn’t the basis of the story. I am a thick Grayson girl so please don’t @ me. Some people get so butt hurt over it and I already have a thick girl Ethan fic. This kind of just tells the story of Grayson and Y/N along the way.

Warnings: Body Insecurities (it’s not a theme it just is like a couple sentences in the beginning and a scene at the end), bullying(see prior warning), fluff, dad! grayson

Word Count: 3,304

Grayson Dolan is a lover and there is absolutely no denying that. He loves Ethan even when he wants to beat his ass for his pranks. He loves Cameron, she’s his big sister and dealt with all the shenanigans from their childhood. Most importantly, he loves his mama. No one could replace how much Lisa meant to Grayson but only one person could come close. Nonetheless, she would never pass Lisa Dolan and she was perfectly fine with that. Grayson’s girlfriend, Y/N was the only person to ever come close to being the most important woman in Grayson Dolan’s life.

Ethan knew a month after meeting Y/N that Grayson was going to marry her. After a couple years she earns the nickname, sister-in-law which Grayson doesn’t mind. He is extremely thankful that his girlfriend and brother have an incredible relationship. Ethan always joked that Grayson has fallen in love several different times but when Grayson realized he truly loved Y/N, Ethan knew the next girl his brother would fall in love with would be his daughter.

Y/N was beautiful. She had eyes that sent Grayson into another universe. Lips that made Grayson melt like ice cream in the middle of July. Grayson’s favorite part about her though? Her body. Curves that seemed to go on for days, boobs that mesmerized Grayson with every step and bounce, and an ass that looked amazing no matter what she had decided to wear that day. Did she think she was perfect? No, of course not but Grayson thought she was the most beautiful girl to ever exist. Was Y/N insecure like most thick girls? No, she was not which was another thing Grayson adored but she was real enough with herself to know she wasn’t perfect.

Grayson, Ethan, and I were sitting in the living room talking about everything we’ve encountered over the last 20 years of Gray and I’s relationship. The first few months we hid from the fans. Telling the fans was probably the scariest moment of my life. Some fans were excited, others were pissed, and some were just downright mean. Many picked at my weight and my curves. It didn’t get to me at first but after over two weeks of relentless comments I finally broke down to Grayson. I wasn’t typically insecure but when thousands of people are calling you the meanest things imaginable it breaks you down. Grayson said something as did Ethan. They threatened to block fans and to take a break if they thought necessary. That caused many of the fans to back off. Over the course of our relationship, I have met many fans and even gotten pictures with them even if I wasn’t with Grayson. Next came, our engagement and then our beautiful wedding, followed by the birth of each of our children and everything in between. After all that we rewind back to the day, we all met.

We met at a restaurant in LA. Ethan had wanted to try it for a while because he had heard there was a bunch of really good, dairy-free food options. They went for lunch on a Thursday. It surprisingly wasn’t too busy but they sat down and waited for someone to serve them. This restaurant Ethan had been dying to try was my job at the time. Thankfully I was working when they decided to show. I noticed two tall, good looking LA boys walk in. I looked them up and down then quickly put together that they were twins. One with darker hair, a safety pin necklace, smooth face, and an interesting outfit. The other one with scruff, a dangly earring, black t-shirt, and striped black pants. For twins, he was definitely the cuter one. They hadn’t sat in my section which was probably a good thing because I would have probably embarrassed myself. They had sat in my best friends’ section. Lilly walked over and got their drink orders. The one with the dangly earring kept looking up at us as we got their waters. I assumed he was staring at Lilly as she always got hit on at this damn job. “Grayson shut up you’re so loud” the one boy said. Ah so his name was Grayson. “Shut up, Ethan. I’m not loud” Grayson retaliated. Ethan looked around the restaurant and looked at me. “Hey, do you think my twin over here is loud?” he asked. “You’re the only yelling across the restaurant to ask me if he’s the loud one” I sassed and Grayson chuckled. Lilly continued serving them and Grayson kept looking up but I realized a lot of the times his gaze would land on me and that Lilly was never around when he looked over at me. Did I have something on my face? A stain on my shirt? Toilet paper on my shoe? “Hey, will you cover my couple of tables? I have to take my lunch break first because I have been here the longest” Lilly explained. “Yeah, I got it” I sighed. I walked over to the table with the two boys. “I just wanted to say that I’m your waitress now as Lilly is on her lunch break so if you need anything just ask,” I said. “How about a date?” Grayson asked. “Excuse me?” I asked. “You heard me, a date” he replied. “I don’t even know you” I responded. “Isn’t that the point of dating, is to get to know someone?” he asked. “How do I know you aren’t going to kill me?” I asked. “We can make it a double date. You and I, Ethan and our old waitress” Grayson suggested. “Dude” Ethan shouted as Grayson gave him pleading eyes. “Fine, when?” I asked. “Tomorrow night at 7?” he suggested. “Umm, ok,” I said, still a little taken aback by this whole conversation. I decided to just go for it so when I gave them their bill I wrote my number on it with a small note, “You took your shot so I’ll take mine, text me;)”. After they left I went to get their receipt and there was a note at the top. “Each of you get yourselves something nice for our double date tomorrow night -E and Gray” I looked at the bottom of the receipt to see that they left a $200 tip for Lilly and me to split.

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“I still can’t believe you and Lilly dated for three months” I giggled. Lilly and Ethan had very little in common and we’re total opposites in personality. “Shut up” Ethan groaned. “It’s ok, she mainly did it for me to help with getting in your brother’s pants” I joked. “That’s all you wanted? You could have asked that first night and I would’ve let you do whatever you wanted to me” Gray joked. “No, but she really was just helping me to get with Grayson” I admitted. “She was being a good wing woman just like I was for Gray” Ethan explained. “I know and I love you both very much for that,” I said.

“You know I knew a month after knowing you that Grayson wasn’t going to love anyone else,” Ethan said randomly. Grayson looked at his brother confused. “You never told me that,” Gray said. “I thought you knew,” E said. “Knew what?” “That she was the one” Ethan explained. “Not until I told her I loved her for the first time,” Grayson said. “I knew about a month after the restaurant. I remember coming out of my room to see you staring at her napping in your bed. She’d come over after work. You went to go grab her some food because she had worked through her break and she was passed out when you got back. You were standing with whatever food you’d scrounged up for her. You weren’t mad she was asleep. You had a smile on your face followed by a little chuckle. Your eyes said what your heart and your head didn’t know yet. I texted mom that day to tell her not to worry about this one. Later that night, Y/N was eating dinner with us because you wanted to actually cook her something. She walked into the kitchen watching you sing and dance around. She had almost the same look you did when you saw her asleep. I knew then you loved each other but it was so early that you were both scared. Ever since that day I never worried about how Y/N would treat you because I knew she was the best person for you” Ethan explained an I didn’t know I was crying until I felt a tear land on my arm. “Baby, why are you crying?” Gray asked. “Ethan never talks deep like that. He knew Gray before we ever did. We’ve talked about when we realized we loved the other person and when we told each other we loved each other but we’ve never asked anyone else when they knew we loved each other. Others are less blind than we are about it” I sobbed. Gray walked over and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t know why you’re crying. Ethan’s an idiot most of the time. The one time he isn’t you’re a hot mess” he chuckles. “It just puts things into perspective. Never in a million years did I think I was going to have a man that was so good to me. All of the guys’ I was within the past were so passive aggressive but with you, it’s never happened even after all of these years. Not to mention how amazing the rest of our family is. I just couldn’t have asked for anyone better” I cried. “Me either, baby. Me either” Grayson said kissing my forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dating, being engaged to, and marrying a Dolan was a lot, to say the least. Gray and I had 5 kids together. Three girls and then two boys. Addison Rose and Amelia Bailey were our twin girls. We had another set of Dolan Twins, this time they were girls and according to Lisa much easier to deal with compared to their dad and Uncle E. When the girls were a little over two we had another little girl, Paisley Jane or PJ. PJ was typically a boy nickname but she was one of the most tomboy girls you’ll ever meet so it fits pretty well. Addison was the quiet one, Amelia the momma bear, and little PJ was the rough one. Nine times out of 10 when someone was hurt it was Little Miss PJ’s fault. There was a little bit bigger of a  gap between PJ and the first boy we had. Paisley was 3 when we had our first boy. I had always loved the name Grayson, way before I had ever met Gray. Therefore, our first boy was Grayson Hunter but he was Lil’ Gray then he went by Hunter once he was no longer the baby. 11 months after Lil’ Gray was born Lil’ Grant was born. Grant Oliver Dolan was the fifth and final Dolan baby, or so we thought (Ask Ethan about that one).

We got engaged three years after meeting in that restaurant. Whenever we’re in LA we try to go to relive the old memories. Nine months later we got married in New Jersey. It was an outside wedding and it was beautiful. The kids don’t ask much about the wedding because there are pictures all over the house. There’s a picture of Grayson and me with our wedding party in one part of the house. There’s a picture of Ethan and Gray then a picture of Gray and me after the ceremony on my bedside table. The twins especially love hearing about how Grayson proposed to me, no matter how many times they had already heard it. “Daddy?” Lia chimed. “Yes, Lia Bug?” “Will you tell us the story of how you asked mommy to marry you?” Lia asked. “I just told you girls last week” Grayson chuckled. “It’s such a good story. Daddy please” Addy begged. “Alright, alright go get your mother. She loves hearing me tell you guys” he said. “Your mom and I had been together three years when I finally got the nerve to ask her to marry me even though I knew she was the one”, Grayson started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have something fun for you to do today,” Grayson said to me. “What’s that?” I asked. “Ethan’s going to go with you on a scavenger hunt for a surprise tonight” he explained. He had Ethan drag me from our favorite picnic spot, to where he told me he loved me for the first time, to where we met, and then finally to the airport where we boarded a plane going to New Jersey. “Ethan, why are we flying to Jersey?” “It’s a surprise” Ethan explained. Finally, we landed and Ethan took me to their New Jersey home where Lisa was with Gizmo. We didn’t go inside though which was odd to me. “E, we should say hi to your mom. She misses you guys” I said. “We will, I promise”. He leads me out to the woods. By now it was dark out. It was a warm August day--well night. There was a full moon then a combination of cricket and frog noises scattered in the background. “Ethan if you came out here to kill me your brother is going to kill you in return” I threatened. “I’m offended that you think I’d kill you especially on my own property” he sassed. “It’s time for the surprise,” Ethan said. “I am still so confused”. “Well prepare to be more confused, as Gray has instructed I have to give you a piggyback ride and you have to be blindfolded for the rest of the walk” Ethan explained. “This better be a damn good surprise or I am kicking both of your asses,” I said as it grew even darker with the blindfold on. “Grab my shoulders and jump, I’ll catch you,” Ethan said. “Ethan, I’m not jumping on your back, I’ll break it” I argued. “No, you won’t. C’ mon Y/N” he said. “Ethan, no” I argued. “Y/N, I’ve been lifting. It’s fine” he said. “Are you calling me fat?” I asked. “Jesus, no. Fuck, Gray is going to kill me” E sighed. “I’m kidding but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I said as I jumped on his back. We walked for a few minutes before Ethan said “We’re here but don’t take your blindfold off. I’ll put you down slowly”. He put me down and then I heard footsteps. “Ethan?” “E?” “Since when do you like my brother so much?” Grayson asked causing me to jump. “Gray you scared me” I yelled as he chuckled. “Babe where are we? Why am I still blindfolded?” I asked. “We’re in the woods in Jersey,” he said as he took the blindfold off. I looked around to see candles. White and red rose petals surrounding me. I realized the candles took a heart shape. “Grayson, what is all this?” I asked. “Something you’re going to remember for the rest of your life” he admitted. “Gray” I whispered. “I sent you on a wild goose chase today which you’re used to because that’s just how crazy my life is. I am so thankful that I’ve had someone as incredible as you by my side through the ups and downs. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I want to spend everyday making you happy. I want to wake up next to you every day. I want to make breakfast with you every morning. I want to snuggle you every night before we go to sleep. You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with so” He pauses as he drops down onto one knee.  “Y/N, will you marry me?” Gray asked opening a small black box with a beautiful diamond ring. Tears stream down my face as I nod my head vigorously and he slips the ring over my finger. “Yes, Gray, I’d love to marry you” I cried as hugged his neck. Shortly after all of this excitement Lisa, Ethan, and Cameron emerge out of the distance. “This was beautiful Gray,” I said. “Beautiful proposal for a beautiful girl,” he said. “I love you” “I love you too”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Daddy, how did you know mommy was going to be your wife?” Lia asked. “She always loved me even when my life was crazy. Your mama is very supportive girls. She supported daddy even when it was the hardest thing she ever had to do and she will support you guys too” Grayson explained. “Mommy, why did you pick daddy?” Addy asked. “He treated me, right girls. He loved me just like he loves you and your sisters then your little brother when he gets here. He was a good boyfriend. He was a good husband once we got married and now he is the most incredible daddy don’t ya think?” I asked. “Oh yeah, he’s probably a better daddy than Uncle Etan is,” Addy said causing us all to laugh. “They’re both really good dad’s” I giggled looking at Gray who was smirking. “Daddy?” Lia asked. “Yes, bug?” he replied. “I’m really glad you’re my daddy. If it would have been anyone else I would have ran away to you so you could be my daddy because you’re the best” Lia said to Grayson and my pregnant heart exploded. Tears immediately started leaking from my eyes. “Mama, why are you crying?” Addy asked. “I’m happy baby, I promise. I just love our family so much” I told her. “I love our family too,” Addy said climbing off of Gray’s lap and crawling into mine. “Be careful, Addy Rose. Mommy has your baby brother in there” Gray warned. Grayson was always on high alert and extremely overprotective when I was pregnant. “Gray?” I asked. “Yes, babe?” he asked. “Where’s PJ?” I asked. “Uhh, I dunno. She was listening to the story” he admitted. “MOMMY! LOOK!” Lia pointed outside. I looked to see a small, three-year-old PJ on the sidewalk. “GRAYSON” I shouted as he leaped out of the house to chase our toddler. “Paisley Jane Dolan” Gray shouted as she looked at her daddy. She quickly realized that it was Grayson and not Uncle Ethan so she did what any other kid on a mission would do. She ran. “PJ DOLAN” Grayson shouted. “Where are you going little miss?” he asked as he ran towards her. She turned sharply in front of Ethan’s house that was a little way down from our own. She couldn’t quite get the door open so that’s where her dad finally caught up to her. “PJ, why were you outside? You know not to go outside when mommy or daddy isn’t with you” Grayson reprimanded. “I wanted Uncle Effin” PJ cried out. Addy was a mommy’s girl. Lia was a daddy’s girl but PJ? She was Uncle Ethan’s girl and none of us are quite sure why. “Baby, if you wanted Uncle Ethan just ask and we all could have gone to visit” Grayson explained. “NO! Just me! My uncle Effin” PJ cried. Grayson walked her home then let her sit in the time out chair for running outside. “Why is she so stuck on Ethan?” I asked. “Maybe because he has all the boys?” Gray suggested. “Who knows but it looks like we’re going to have to extra childproof the house” I sighed. “I’ll head to Home Depot now. You want me to take the twins?” Gray asked. “If you want to” I shrugged. “Yeah that way you can try to relax and just keep an eye on PJ” Gray decided. He kissed me goodbye as he took the older two to Home Depot to get some things to turn our house into a prison-like structure so PJ doesn’t try to escape to Uncle E’s again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ethan, on the other hand, had three boys. Bentley Grant was his first. He was born in between the twins and Paisley. Next was Dawson Michael and he was born a few months after PJ. Dawson and Bentley were about 15 months apart. Their last boy was born when Dawson was 2. Lennox Gray Dolan was the last boy of Ethan’s herd but it wouldn’t be Ethan Dolan without an oopsie baby. When Little Lennox was 4, Ethan’s wife found out she was pregnant with their fourth child. This time, a girl. The baby of the Dolan Clan was Miss Lorelai Penelope and she was wrapped around everyone’s finger. When Lorelai was born Addison and Amelia were 8, Bentley was 7, Paisley was 6, Dawson was 5, Lennox was 4, Hunter was 3, and Grant was 2.

The four oldest Dolan children had all graduated high school. Addison was into Graphic Design and attending a school in Manhattan, New York. Amelia who was always a little more family-based stayed close and is going to a community college to be a teacher. Bentley being the oldest boy always felt responsible for his siblings and cousins. He wanted to go to school but he didn’t want to go across the country. He got many scholarships for lacrosse all across the country. He decided to stay close to home and accepted a full ride in Lacrosse at Rutgers University. Meanwhile, PJ is traveling the country with two friends. She’d always been a free spirit so her parents knew she wasn’t going to school which was entirely her choice. Y/N and Grayson agreed a long time ago that they would support their children in whatever decision they made (to an extent) as long as they graduated high school. That was the deal. Dawson was a senior in high school. Lennox was a junior, Hunter and Grant were sophomores meanwhile Lorelai was an 8th grader.

Hunter and Grant as the youngest children but the only boys on Gray’s side were very protective of their mother. Addy was closer to Y/N as she was quieter and not so loud. Lia, on the other hand, was Gray’s little girl. PJ loved both of her parents but rarely favored one over the other. If anything her go to was her Uncle E. Hunter and Grant though? Complete and utter, mama’s boys. Grant was a lot closer to his dad than Hunter was. Grayson never took offense. The kids need people they could confide in whether it was him or his wife. He was just glad that each child could trust someone. The Dolan boys being in close in age as they are they were practically another set of twins. Now that Bentley was gone, Dawson is the leader which is good because he’s the next most responsible as he takes after his mom. Dawson drove everyone to school except Lorelai. Ethan took his little girl to school every day and no one- I mean NO ONE argued with him about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a Wednesday in the middle of March, just a couple weeks before Spring Break. Grant and Hunter are walking to their 10th Grade English class that they conveniently had together. They were about halfway there when Ryan Sawyer, the senior quarterback made a comment under his breath which Hunter quickly reacted to. “What did you just say?” Hunter growls. Grant quickly following behind his brother. “I said I saw your mom last night. Not sure how your dad hasn’t suffocated from how fat she-” before Ryan could even finish his sentence Hunter had socked him straight across the jaw. You do not mess with Y/N Dolan especially in the presence of Grayson Hunter Dolan. Ryan’s little minions quickly followed suit. Grant was throwing punches to the minions while Hunter and Ryan rolled around trying to get dominance over the other. Soon enough Dawson stumbled upon the incident trying to get everyone off of each other before a teacher knew what happened but it was too late. The dean was halfway to the scene. “Let my little cousin go before I kick your ass” Dawson threatened. Ryan’s friend let Grant go in fear of Dawson. Ryan and Hunter still rolling around on the floor. Ryan’s nose bloodied. Hunter’s knuckles cracked open and a tear on his lip. Grant has a cut over his eyebrow. Mr. Scott, the dean had walked up to the scene. His voice boomed as yelled for the boys to stop. Ryan, Hunter, Grant, Dawson, and a couple of Ryan’s friends followed the dean to his office. “Dolan what happened,” Mr. Scott said as they sat in silence. “C’ mon speak,” he said. “Uh sir three of us are Dolan’s” Dawson explained. “What?” “These two are my cousins” Dawson explained. “Well, I was talking to you explain”. “Honestly I don’t know. I walked up to a fist fight and got Grant off of Ryan’s friend then you showed up” Dawson explained. “Someone tell me what happened” Mr. Scott boomed. “The little Dolan wussies got bent out of shape because they couldn’t take a joke,” Ryan said. “Watch it Ryan” Dawson threatened. “Ryan, the rest of you that aren’t Dolan’s can go” Mr. Scott ordered. “Boys, tell me what happened. I know how Mr. Sawyer is so I trust you’ll be honest with me because I’ve never seen either of you in my office”. “Ryan made a comment about my mom and it wasn’t just like a joke. He called her fat and I just got mad so I punched him. Then his minions went after Grant so it was just some big ordeal then Dawson came in to try to stop it before you got there. I’m sorry” Hunter explained. “Don’t apologize, kid. You stuck up for your mom. I would’ve done the same thing. Your dad raised you well” Mr. Scott said. “Thank you, sir,” Hunter said. “You’re still going to have consequences as it was on school grounds, both of you” “What about all of them?!?”  Hunter argued. “I’ll call them down once you leave and they’ll get a longer suspension for starting it. I know Dawson here will keep me to it” “You bet your ass” Dawson said. “You, have three days for taking the first swing. Your brother has two for fighting them. They’ll get suspended for 5 for antagonizing. I’m going to call your dad. You two head to the nurse and get cleaned up. Dawson keep an eye on them” Mr. Scott said as Dawson nodded.

The nurse wiped the blood off the boys. Thankfully all the cuts and scrapes were superficial. Soon enough Grayson showed up to take his two youngest home. “Boys, what the hell was this?” Grayson asked. “I’m sorry dad. He said something about mom and I just lost it” Hunter explained. “He said something about your mom?” Grayson asked his older son. “Yeah, he was like I saw your mom last night. I don’t know how your dad doesn’t suffocate with how fat then I didn’t hear the rest because I was beating the shit out of him” Hunter explained. “Grant why are you suspended?” Gray asked. “I started fighting the kids’ friends and I wasn’t going to sit back while he was talking shit about mom. Dolan boys don’t fuck with that” Grant said. “You’re damn straight, son. I can’t believe this kid has the audacity to make a sexual comment insulting my wife, what nerve. For his information, I would love to be suffocated by- DAAAD ENOUGH” Grant yelled as Grayson chuckled.

Grayson wasn’t sure what to tell his wife. He knew she would be mad at the suspension but should he tell her why the kids were in a fight. All the girls managed to get in little to no trouble in school so where did they go wrong with the boys? Is what was crossing Y/N’s had as she heard Gray’s voicemail from about an hour ago while she was in a meeting. She opened the front door and shut it with a little more force than she anticipated. “Grayson Hunter and Grant Oliver, in here now!” Y/N yelled. Both the boys and their dad walked into the living room. “What the hell happened today? A THREE DAY SUSPENSION?” Y/N yelled. “Grant was just helping me. I started it, ma” Hunter said. “Grayson Hunter, since when do you fight people?” Y/N asked. “He said something mean and I got angry” he explained. “What did he say?” she asked but no one wanted to tell her. They all loved Y/N too much to let a dumb 17-year old make her feel shit about herself. “Tell me or I am canceling Spring Break in a couple of weeks, so help me Grayson Hunter” she threatened. Hunter looked at his brother then at his dad. All of them shaking their head in agreement. No one was telling her. “Fine then go to your room’s. I’m canceling the trip” Y/N said. Grayson knew his wife was upset and that he needed to calm her down. “We’re still going on that trip,” Grayson said. “No, we aren’t. They aren’t getting suspended then turning around and going to Cancun. Grayson have you lost your mind?” she asked. “No, babe but I know what the kid said that upset Hunter” Gray explained. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?” she asked. “He was defending you, baby,” Gray said simply. “What?” she turned looking at her husband. “The kid Hunter punched made a comment about your weight and it was in a sexual sense. He was just protecting his momma” Grayson explained. “What did the little punk say?” she asked. “Something how he saw you out last night and wasn’t sure how I hadn’t suffocated because of how um” Grayson paused. “Fat I am?” Y/N asked. “Yeah” Gray whispered. There was a thick pause filled with silence. “Jokes on him though, I would love to suffocate between your thighs babe” Gray smirked trying to lift the mood. “Why are kids so mean Gray?” she asked her husband. “Babe, don’t let some kid get to you. Not when you have two sons that kicked his ass in your name baby, in your honor” Grayson said wiping the tears from his wife’s face. “Why don’t we bring them down and tell them they're still going on Spring Break, yeah?” Gray asked and Y/N nodded. Hunter came down first looking at his mom. “Ma, why are you crying? Do I have to kick dad’s ass too?” “Good luck with that, son” Gray chuckled. “Your dad told me what really happened at school today,” Y/N said as Grant finally made his way into the kitchen. “He told me what that boy said to you guys” Y/N explained. “You’re not fat, ma. You’re beautiful” Hunter said. “Thank you, baby” Y/N smiled. “Thank you for putting that kid in his place for me, honey. Both of you, actually. Your brother got a couple cuts himself” Y/N observed running her finger over Grant’s cuts. “I’m sorry, I was so angry” Y/N apologized.  “It’s alright, we weren’t mad. I should’ve handled it better” Hunter admitted. “No, you defend your mom just like you should’ve. Just don’t make it a habit, boys” Grayson interjected. “We’re still going to go to Cancun. I can’t take that away from my boys. Thank you for defending me today” she said hugging her two babies that towered a few inches over her. “I’ll do it again any day for you ma,” Hunter said. “Me too. Any day, anyone. No one messes with the Dolans” Grant added. “I love my boys,” Y/N said as Grayson added himself to the group hug. The Dolan family was a little chaotic at times but every one of them defended their name just like their Poppy Sean would want them too.

[petri808]

Chemistry Hell

@bmarvels the story idea you helped me come up with :)

“I’m sorry Ms. Heartfilia,” the teacher hands her back her latest practice exam results, “I know you try really hard in this class, but maybe Chemistry is just not your subject.  Most students struggle with a subject or two, that’s normal.”

“But it’s going to pull my GPA down if I can’t boost my grade in this class.”  Lucy slumps back into her seat, “and if that happens my dad might make me quit the cheer squad.”

Professor Warren crosses his arms in a relaxed manner, leaning back against a near by desk. After a couple minutes he taps his chin, “maybe one of my AP chemistry students could tutor you…. yeah,” he sits up straighter, “I’ll just ask my top kid, I’m sure he’ll agree to it.  Does Thursday after school work for you?  You two can just use my classroom for an hour or so then figure out a schedule of your own from there.”

“That would be great! Thank you, Mr. Warren!”

Lucy was a bit nervous all through her Thursday classes, wondering who this tutor was going to be, and praying that they’d be able to help her with her problem.  It wasn’t that the grade was horrible, for many kids, C’s still got you a degree. But for her, well mainly her father, it wasn’t good enough.  B’s or higher, that was the deal and she’d had to beg and plead just for that.  To him anything lower than an A was a disgrace.

She adjusts the strap of her backpack and picks up the pace.  It would be horrible to make a bad impression on the first meeting.  Lucy envisioned a shy or introverted guy, probably the typical nerdy type with glasses the whole nine yards and she wanted to do her best to put him at ease.  Everyone assumed because she was a popular cheerleader that she’d be extroverted or even ditzy when in reality Lucy was top of their class in English, top 10 percent in history and loved nothing more than to curl up with a good book to read at home or in some tiny coffee shop.  The giggly, bubbly blonde routine was all for show on the field, but it wasn’t exactly who she was.

As Lucy entered the room, professor Warren was speaking with a young man near his desk and she presumed it was her tutor.  Pink hair, I think I’ve seen that kid around. Sometimes hunched over a book in the library or quickly weaving through the crowded hallways, she’d never gotten a good look at his face before.  But now standing still, Lucy noted he was possibly a foot taller than her, in decent shape.  She cocks an eyebrow, he fills out the polo uniform nicely.   Even the glasses were becoming of him.

Seeing her enter, the teacher ends his conversation and waves Lucy over.  “This,” placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “Ms. Heartfilia is Natsu Dragneel.  He’s the President of the Chemistry Club and probably the smartest student we have here when it comes to science.  I’m sure he’ll be able to help you out, oh and I already went over with him what I think you could work on so he could tailor the tutoring sessions.  With that I’ll leave you two.”

By the time the teacher left the room, an awkward silence had slowly begun to bloom.  Assuming her suspicions were accurate, Lucy takes it upon herself to break the ice.  She sticks out her hand, “Hi!  It’s nice to meet you Natsu!”  

Natsu cups the back of his neck with a slightly heated flush.  It’s not often, okay well maybe more on the rare side that he’s ever this close to a female and let alone one this pretty.  He shakes her hand, “yeah, nice to meet you too,” but quickly withdraws it.  “Shall we get started?  I assume you have better things you’d rather be doing.”

Well that was a little rude.  But Lucy ignores the snide comment, simply smiling again and nods, following Natsu to a set of tables where he’s already got some papers set up. Maybe he’s just socially graceless, she shrugs to herself and takes a seat opposite him.  

As Natsu shuffles through what looks like practice sheets, Lucy folds her arms and lays them on the table, leaning over a bit to watch.  She’s gotten used to her own body and how her boobs tend to squish up from this position, but while most guys at least glance, Natsu doesn’t even batt and eye. Weird.  Oh, well, it’s not like she wanted that to happen, frankly Lucy hated guys who thought she was one of those, ‘do anything to be popular,’girls.  “Say, I wanna thank you for helping me Natsu.  I really need to get my grade up to at least a B in this class, so the tutoring is gonna be a real help.”

“Don’t worry, and I won’t tell anyone you’re getting extra help.”

“Why would I care?”

“I assumed you have an image to keep up, being one of the popular kids and all.”  

Lucy’s eyebrow twitches, but she keeps her calm, “thanks for the concern, but no it’s not a problem if anyone knows.”

“Alright,” Natsu places a piece of paper in front of her, “let’s get started then.”  

For the first 20 minutes or so, the problems were fairly easy for Lucy, she understood them, but as they grew progressively more difficult so did Natsu’s attitude towards her.  At first, she brushed it off, reasoning in any way to justify the rude attitude.  She needed this help and if he was the best, she would try her hardest to endure some discomfort….

He runs his hand down his face with a groan, “for the third time, calorimetry is about measuring the amount of heat released or absorbed during a chemical reaction because that tells you if the reaction is exothermic or endothermic.  So, that still means whether its bomb calorimetry or constant pressure calorimetry, heat flows are always measured the same way, through temperature changes. See,” he stabs at the problem listed on the paper with his finger, “E, the answer is E!”    

“Oh…. I-I’m sorry, I’ll get it the next time.”  

“Sure,” scratching out the answer and grabbing a new sheet, mumbling, “that’s what you said last time.”

The tears Lucy had been holding back burst free.  She couldn’t take it anymore.  “Look I’m sorry!  I’m trying my best here and…”

“Maybe if you put as much effort into this as you probably do with cheer, you’d get it.”

That was it.  Without another word, Lucy grabs her things, shoves it haphazardly into her backpack and runs out of the room desperately trying to wipe away the tears that cloud her vision.  He is such an asshole!  She had enough people judging her just because she did cheer, and she didn’t need the guy who was supposed to be helping her doing it too!  Cheer was a great way to get some exercise and yeah, while some of the other members were looking at it as a means of popularity, she wasn’t one of them.  He’s just like my father!

Natsu had brushed off the girl’s reaction.  Sure, he could have been nicer but what for?  He had meant what he said and maybe if she focused more on her studies she wouldn’t be struggling.  Oh well, they ran in different crowds anyways and while Professor Warren might give him hell for it, what was that old man going to do?  They needed him to win the Decathlon.  

Back at school the next day in the library, Natsu was focused on his Pokemon Go! when suddenly, another firecracker slaps him in the back of the head….  The thwomp sound that echoed in the room was loud enough to gain the librarians attention, but before Natsu could really respond or protest, said feisty girl had started to pack up his belongings.  “Levy?  What the hell?!”

“You’re coming with me!” she shoves the bag in his chest and through gritted teeth, “somewhere I can scream at you as loud as I want to!”

“I’m not…” Levy raises her book to hit him again.  “Okay, Okay!” putting up his hands in defeat.  “Just don’t hit me again!”

“No guarantees,” she grabs his shirt sleeve and drags him from the room.  Every door she passes, Levy scans it and finally, almost to the end of the hall, she finds an empty classroom and pushes Natsu inside. “Sit,” she points at the nearest desk while she closes the door to muffle her shouting from the hallway.    

“I still don’t know what your problem is,” Natsu drops his backpack next to the chair.  “Why the hell did you hit me so hard too?” he rubs at the slow forming tender spot where she’d smacked him, “it friggen hurts!”

“Well you deserve it!” Levy finally takes a stance in front of him, leaning against another desk.  “How can you be in such a good mood, knowing you made a poor girl cry yesterday?!”

“How’d you know about that?”

“Lucy is one my closest friends and she called me in tears last night!  Why the hell were you so mean to her?  I’ve never known you to be such an asshole Natsu.  I mean,” throwing her hands up, “was she rude, did she do something, say something to piss you off?  Lucy’s always been a sweet person too so what the hell happened?”

Natsu sits back in his chair, crossing his arms with a furrowed brow.  “I didn’t know she would be friends with someone like us.  I assumed she was, you know, one of those people.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!  Those people?”

“Like the popular girls, the stuck up, spoiled kids that thumb their noses at us, plus I know she’s rich.  I bet she was only getting tutoring cause they need to maintain a certain GPA to be on a team.”

Levy’s demeanor switches and if he thought she was angry before, Natsu swore steam was starting to rise from her head.  “Natsu,” she pinches the bridge of her nose in disgust, “Lucy is on the cheer team because she enjoys it, and she’s certainly not even close to what you think.” Looking back up, “for starters her English and History scores are higher than mine and yours.  Chemistry is really the only class she struggles in.  And lastly, yeah, she might come from money, but she’s one of the most down to Earth people I know!”  

Standing up and slamming a closed fist on the desk and setting Natsu into a straightened sitting position, “you hate it when others stereotype us and that’s exactly what you did to her!”  All the blood drains from the young man’s face.  But his stunned silence does not go unnoticed.  “Natsu,” Levy leans back against the other desk with a long exhale, “you need to make this right and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Alright,” he holds up his hands in defeat before slumping in his chair.  “But… W-What am I supposed to do?  I can’t, I mean I wouldn’t know what to even say besides I’m sorry.” Natsu grabs his bag from the floor and places it in his lap.  

“Well you better figure it out by tomorrow…”

“Wait!  T-Tomorrow?!”

Nodding, ��tomorrow, 1 pm and don’t you dare be late, meet us at Fae’s Diner understood?”

“But…”

“Excuse me?” her eyebrow twitches.

“Never… Never mind,” he mumbles and clutches the bag tighter like a shield, “I’ll be there…”  

Around 9pm that evening, there’s a knock at Natsu’s bedroom door, just seconds before his mother is walking in with 2 cups of steaming hot chocolate.        

“Mom?” he sits up on his bed.  “What are you doing here?”

She hands a mug to him and sits on his computer chair facing him.  “Think I don’t know my son well enough?  You barely touched your dinner and for a boy that usually gets second or third helpings…” taking a sip of her drink, “something is wrong.”

“I’m fine,” looking anywhere but his mom and sipping at the chocolatey drink, “maybe I’m just coming down with a cold or something.”

“Oh, I see….  Should I make an appointment with the doctor so he can poke and prod at you?”  Placing the mug on the desk, she clasps her hands together in contemplation, “hmm, or better yet force you to drink that nasty medicine you love so much?  Yeah…. I know I still have half a bottle left…”

“I give, I give!  No gross meds!”  Natsu closes his eyes with a sigh, “I made a girl cry on Thursday and now I need to figure out how to apologize.”

“Forget the meds, you deserve a slap instead!  I didn’t raise my son to be mean to girls!”

“Please don’t,” he cringes, “Levy already cracked me a good one,” rubbing the back of his head, “it still throbs.”

“I knew I liked that girl for a reason.” Settling back in her chair and picking up her mug, “Alright son, tell me what happened.”

“It all started when Professor Warren asked me to tutor a girl…”

For the next 30 or so minutes, Natsu went through the entire story from start to finish leaving nothing for the imagination.  It was tough, admitting to all the rude comments and watching his mother’s reactions. He could tell she was deeply ashamed of how he had behaved but still she sat there not saying a word until the very end.

“… so that’s everything,” his head hung in shame, voice quieted.  “Levy was right, I judged her before getting to know her first.  Mom, I’m such an idiot,” he settles the empty mug on his bed with a groan, “she’s so pretty too,” a slight flush alighting his cheeks, “and smart.  I checked around and what Levy said about her kicking my butt in English is totally true.”

His mother could see the pain behind her son’s expression, feel the weight being shouldered through a shaky voice.  There was no reason to admonish him any more than he was already beating himself up over. Her drink now cold and long forgotten, she stands up and sits on the edge of the bed next to him, placing a reassuring hand on his knee.

“Natsu, the important thing is you realize what you did was wrong.  Yes, it took Levy knocking some sense into you, but at least you have the opportunity to fix things and start over with this Lucy girl.”  Giving his knee a gentle squeeze, “now, you say you think she’s pretty?”  She giggles and he nods lightly while the blush re-erupts upon his cheeks.  “My son’s first little crush!”

“Mom, so not funny!” He harrumphs, crossing his arms in a dramatic manner.

“I know, I know,” she chuckles, “I’m sorry forgive an old woman for her amusements.  So, do you have a picture of her?”

“Um,” looking over at his bookshelf, “yeah she should be in a yearbook.”  Natsu stands up and grabs it from the shelf, flipping through the pages as he walks back.  “Here,” he hands his mom the open book, pointing towards a photo.  “That’s her, Lucy Heartfilia.”

She looks closely at the high-quality black and white photo, noting the fresh-faced young girl indeed was pretty, despite not being in color.  “Heartfilia…. As in Heartfilia Enterprises?  Boy son, you sure know how to pick ‘um.”

“Why, what’s so special about it?  I know she’s got some money.”

“Her family was one of the wealthiest in our city, I mean Jude Heartfilia is still rich but after his wife passed away about 10 years ago, he lost some of that fortune because of all the medical expenses her illness left behind.”

“Oh man,” Natsu plops back onto his bad, “you’re telling me the girl I made cry’s mother is dead? Great, that makes me feel even worse now.”

“You said you have to meet them tomorrow, right?  That’s your chance to apologize and make it up to her.  So, what are you planning to say or do?”

“I have no idea!  Ugh, I’m not good at talking with girls…”

“Tell ya what Natsu, tomorrow morning I’ll take you to the store and we’ll go look for a small gift, flowers, or something.  Do you think you can find out what she might like, maybe stuffed animals, anything?”

“I can text Levy, she’ll probably give me some pointers.”

“That’s a start.  As for what you’ll say, just show her the same emotions you showed me tonight, about how sorry you are for hurting her like that.  If you are genuine, I’m sure she will accept your apology.  It sounds like she’s a sweet girl, so hopefully she’ll forgive you, or at least won’t be mad at you anymore.”

“Okay…  I’ll text Levy too.”

“Good,” standing up, his mom grabs the two mugs ready to leave, “get some rest, we’ll leave after breakfast.”

“Thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome Natsu.”

~~~xx~~~

He didn’t know how long he had been pacing in the alley next to Fae’s diner.  An hour or was it only 30 minutes?  Checking, rechecking the time on his phone as the minutes ticked down closer and closer to 1 pm.  Should he be early?  Right on time?  Definitely not late.  Yes, certainly that would be bad.  Natsu removes his glasses and wipes at the sweat building upon his brow, why’d it have to be so hot today?  As if his nervousness wasn’t bad enough, going in there looking like he’d just left the gym was sureto make such a wonderful impression!

The pink and white flowers he’d chosen based on Levy’s recommendation were holding up nicely despite the humidity, and the blue stuffed cat doll he’d bought, Natsu hoped Lucy would like it.  He thought it was adorable, a blue cat with these big round eyes and a silly grin…. It was so goofy, it just had to gain him some kind of smile out of the girl!  

12:50pm.          

Ten more minutes. Natsu gulps down the scant amount of saliva quickly drying up in his throat.  All morning his mother had helped him rehearse what he could say to the girl without looking like a complete and utter dork…. But dang it to hell, this is the most nervous he’s even been in his life!  Give him a battle of chemical formulas against his nemesis at Saber High any day compared to this!  Throw him off a cliff and tell him to swim, even that might be preferable.  He was ready to give his apology once coming to terms and accepting how wrong he’d been, but now it reverted back to talking to a girl and Lucy was a very pretty, intelligent one.  AHHHHHHHH!  There’s a reason Natsu’s never had a girlfriend before.

12:55pm.

A low groan slash whine leaches from his throat as he tucks the phone back in his pocket and walks to the front of the restaurant.  This was the moment of truth, suck it up Natsu!  Dig deep and just get this over with!  He grabs onto the door handle and walks on in, his gifts tucked close like a shield.

It takes his eyes a moment to scan before landing upon the blonde and blue-headed girls sitting in a booth near the back of the restaurant.  Whatever Levy was saying to her friend must have been interesting if the adorable laughter erupting from the girl was any indication.  Were Lucy’s brown eyes always that bright?  Probably would’a seen it last time if you’d made the girl laugh instead of cry.  Ouch, stabbed in the heart by his own subconscious.  Natsu’s feet carry him slowly towards the girls with stuttered advancements despite the flight mode dancing in his mind.

As he reaches within a few feet of the table, it’s Levy who first turns, and Lucy, curious as to why her friend had suddenly stopped talking, shifts in her seat….  The once beautiful shine slowly receding into a look of horror.  “What are you doing here!  I-I don’t wanna see you ever again!”

But it wasn’t Natsu, instead Levy who speaks up and places a hand on her friend’s shoulder.  “Lu, I invited him here cause he wanted to apologize. I’ve known you both for a long time, and I promise he really is sorry for acting like that, it’s not how he normally behaves.”  

“I don’t know…” Lucy crosses her arms and cringes back, “that… that really hurt.”

“Please,” a quiet male voice interjects, bringing both girls attentions to him, “I just wanna apologize, a-and if after that you never wanna see me again I promise I will stay away.”

“Lu, remember what I told you that night?  Just give him a chance please, for me?”

She honestly didn’t remember a lot from that telephone conversation because she was too upset to think clearly.  Lucy takes a moment to reflect and the only thing she could think of was an incident that happened to Natsu freshman year with another girl on the squad.  That girl was graduated now but Levy thinks it still bothers him and that’s why he treated her the way he did.  Not that it made it okay, but that at least she could understand it wasn’t just how he acted normally.

“Alright… I’ll hear him out.”

“Good,” Levy slides out of the booth, “I’ll go grab us refills, Natsu would you like something?” He shakes his head.  Motioning for him to sit, “Okay, then I’ll be back.”  

Natsu moves to take the spot opposite of Lucy but pauses and juts out the flowers and cat, “H-Here, I got these for you.”

“Oh,” she tentatively accepts, “thank you Natsu, you really didn’t need to…”

“I wanted to do something,” cupping the back of his neck, crimson rushing along his cheeks as he takes a seat and sinks into the faux leather.  “Talking with girls unless its school stuff, isn’t something… we-well the little experience I’ve had didn’t end so well and, I mean I get so nervous about what to say you know…”  Taking a large gulp of air, “I’m really, really, really sorry I behaved like a total asshole to you!  I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d be like the others…”  Natsu hangs his head and covers his face the moment he feels the tears welling up, “Mom was right, she didn’t raise a son to be mean to girls and yet look at what I did….” Little trails of liquid slipping along his cheeks, his voice quieting the longer he rambles.  “You were so nice, never made me feel like the weird geek….  Fuck I’m such an idiot that I don’t deserve being forgiven…”  

Part of her wanted to stay mad at him at least for a little longer, turn the screws so to speak.  But the longer she watched him unravel…. He’s crying….this guy is crying… in public….  Since when do guys cry in public?!   Lucy had set her gifts to the side as her own heart slowly bled for the young man.  Natsu really wasn’t such a bad guy after all in fact, his melt down made her drift back to the moments before he’d first opened his mouth in that classroom. Adorably handsome, glasses and all and now showing he has a sensitive side too...  Lucy picks up the stuffed animal to scrutinize it.  What a silly looking blue cat!  Like a character in one of her favorite fantasy novels, it was so cute!  Smiling to herself, he did well, picking this for me. Muffled light sobs tear her away from fawning over the toy and back to the situation. Her heart dropping at the sight.

With his head propped on his elbows and face buried in his hands, Natsu was too ashamed or afraidto look up and see Lucy’s reactions.  He hadn’t noticed when she’d slipped from her seat until a warm set of arms and sweet vanilla fragrance wrapped itself around and startled him.  Expecting maybe Levy had returned, he straightens out quickly, turning, only to see the beautiful blonde smiling at him.  “Lucy?”

“I forgive you Natsu.” Lucy takes his glasses off and sets them on the table, wiping away at the streaks along his cheeks, “so please stop crying and let’s start over again.”

His gleaming onyx eyes flecked with green practically danced, “D-Do you really mean it?  I mean yeah, I’d really like that!”  

“Great!” Lucy beams back. “I’m glad you apologized, cause now I got to see the real you…  and it’s really sweet.  I hope we can be friends from now on.”

“Wait, I thought you just meant tutoring, y-you actually wanna be friends with me?”

“Of course!  Why wouldn’t I wanna get to know someone like you!” Giggling,“it’s so rare to find a guy who is smart, sweet and cute.”

Natsu deadpans and if his face now matched his hair color he wouldn’t be surprised, “n-no way.”

“Well of course,” her voice coquette, looking up shyly, “that’s only if you wanna be friends.”  

“I’d really like that…”

[writing-parker]

A Series of Vignettes- Need You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A Series of Vignettes Summary: It’s not easy, yours and Bucky’s relationship, but no one ever said it would be. These vignettes follow the big and small moments in Bucky and the reader’s relationship, focusing on the events that shape it. Big and small, sweet or angsty (mostly angsty), these stories lay out the moments in time they carved out for themselves in the crazy world they live in. They all take place in the same universe, but do not need to be read in any particular order.

A Night in Brooklyn | Beautiful World | Johannesburg | Dogs |  Late Night | Dark Winter  Dark Winter II  Dark Winter III | Close | Home |

Chapter Summary: Bucky’s been gone and you’re having a hard time. Warnings: Mentions of death and addiction.

Okay, so this was pretty hard to write and harder to edit. It’s really personal so I’m not sure how big of a hit it will be, but I wrote it for myself so does it really matter? Lol w/e, if you liked it let me know what you think, and if you didn’t you can let me know too I guess but don’t be mean.

________________________________________

You got the call on a normal Wednesday. You were busy at work- with Stark Impact’s fiscal year coming to an end, you barely had time to think, let alone screen your calls.

When your office phone lit up with an unfamiliar number, you didn’t think twice before you answered it.

“This is Y/n Y/l/n,” You said, all business.

“Hi, baby.” A voice slurred into the line, “Long time no talk.”

Your stomach dropped, “Mom? How’d you get this number?” You demanded.

“Right on the internet. All I had to do was google you. I’m proud of your new job, sweetheart. I bet it pays well.” You hadn’t heard from her in years, since right after you moved to New York.

You wanted to hang up, but you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed.

“Aren’t you happy to be hearing from your momma, girl? After all this time?” She’s drunk, you can tell. You would have been more surprised if she was sober.

“What do you want?” You whisper, clenching your hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

“Come on, baby.” She pleads.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Don’t call me that. What do you want?” You try to make your voice sound strong, authoritative.

“Your father overdosed. Thought I’d give you the common courtesy of letting you know.” She sounds exasperated, like the conversation was exhausting her. Like it was such a trouble to call.

The world stops spinning for a few seconds.

“Is that all?” Your voice is flat. Your eyes stare blankly ahead.

She sighs, cracks her gum, “Listen, honey, things have been so hard. My boyfriend left, you never met this one, but he was nice, I swear. I had stopped drinking and everything, but he took everything. I just need a little bit of help, y/n. I swear this time I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t call this number again.” You snap before hanging up.

You numbly close the door to your office and lock it, shutting off the lights. Anyone who might need you would think you were on your lunch break.

Your dad was dead.

You lean against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on your butt, knees pressed to your chest. Your dad was dead and your mom asked you for money in the same breath she used to tell you he was gone.

You let yourself cry. Not for the man he was, no. You cry because any hope you had that he might become the father you deserved was gone. You loved him desperately, until he left, deciding the drugs were more important than you. Spend the first 11 years of your life trying to make him love you more than he loved heroin.

After that, you had secretly hoped and prayed that one day he would sober up. Come find you and tell you he was sorry and he loved you all this time and leaving you was the hardest thing he ever did. Now he never would.

You were mourning the loss of the idea of a real father just as much as you were mourning the flesh-and-bone man.

Was it wrong? You didn’t know if you cared.

You allow yourself fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to fall apart before it’s time to get back to work.

___________________________________________

The next few days seem to pass in slow motion. You can’t eat or sleep, you feel like you’re floating above the ground. You don’t work, calling in sick Thursday and Friday. Say something about food poisoning.

You can’t get a hold of Bucky. He’s gone with Steve and Nat, on a mission that was supposed to only be 4 days, then a week, now it had been nearly 12 days he’d been gone. A week since you heard from him. You would be worried if you weren’t so caught up in your own shit.

You need him. You need him home.

You lay in bed all day on Friday, alone. When your lease ended last month your roommates told you it was time they got a place of their own. You made enough money to pay for the two bedroom yourself, so you stayed. Turned their old room into an office. You wished they were here.

Bucky calls as soon as he lands.

“Hey,” He rasps into the phone when you answered. “I’m home.”

“I missed you.” You whisper. You don’t know what else to say. “Please come over.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He promises.

He gets caught up in the med-bay for a while, Steve warning the doctors that Bucky could have a concussion. Bucky shoots him a look, but lets the doctor check his head anyway. It wasn’t like he could afford more issues with his brain.

He comes to you, though. Feeling exhausted and over-worked. He’d been gone a lot these past couple months. Instead of talking about it, he would pull you close, make you fall apart, use your body as his comfort. They were long missions, and he wanted you, intimacy, to comfort him, and you were usually more than happy to oblige when you missed your Sergeant.

He didn’t notice that tonight was different. Unlocked the door with the key you gave him to find you curled up on the couch, Netflix’s ‘are you still watching’ message on the screen of the TV. He drops his bag, drops to his knees in front of you, pushes some hair out of your eyes.

“Bucky?” You whisper, eyes fluttering open.

“Hey, doll.” He whispers back, “Sorry it took me so long.”

You offer him a weak smile, standing up. He doesn’t notice your shaky arms or the far off look in your eye.

“It’s okay,” You kiss his cheek then wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a hug.

“It was so awful, y/n.” He says into your neck. He talks for a moment about sleeping on the ground of a cave in the mountains of Iran, the people tailing them, everything else they had to go to through to get the files they needed to take down a terror group.

The stress. The Anxiety. The uncertainty. He needed to forget it, get out of his head. He was so on edge, he didn’t even let you get a word out.

His hand grips your hip when he pulls back to kiss you, “Fuck, I missed you.” He growls into your ear, “I need you.” He pants, lips on yours.

His voice has an edge you don’t recognize.

“Bucky.” You whisper, hands on his chest. You tilt your head away and he kisses down your neck. Being with him like this was the last thing on your mind. “Wait.”

He pushes you back against the wall, shoulders uncomfortably digging into the surface. You feel your heart start to race unpleasantly.

His hands are all over you, tugging at your shirt, lips back on yours. He’s not reading any of the signs that you don’t want this. Finally, when his hands tangle in your hair and pull, you push him away.

“What the fuck, Y/n?!” He yells.  

You stumble away from him, wrapping your arms around your body, “I don’t want to.” You try not to yell back, but your words are harsh.

“Then why the fuck would you tell me to come here?” He glares at you.

Because my dad died and I need you.

You can’t say the words because you’re already standing in front of him in pain and he doesn’t care. And it’s all so familiar.

A man, standing in front of you, demanding your body to make themselves feel whole.

A man too caught up in their own feelings to care about yours.

They would take and take until you had nothing left. They didn’t care about the broken girl they left behind. You kept letting them, hoping they would give you their love in return. They never did. You never learned.

But this was Bucky. Why couldn’t he see that you were hurting?

You shut down, turning away from him, feeling stupid for the tears forming in your eyes.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He sighs, sounding annoyed and exasperated at the same time. He doesn’t sound sorry though. Definitely not worried.

A flash of anger surges through you.

“You should go.” You say dismissively, trying to feign bravado.

Bucky finally takes a good look at you. Hunched shoulders, dark circles showing just how tired you are. The look in your eyes makes him pause though. “Y/n…” He repeats your name hesitantly.

“I need you to leave.” You say again.

He slams the door behind him when he goes.

__________________________________________

It’s past dinner the next evening when Wanda knocks on your door. You hadn’t heard from Bucky all day, not that you expected to.

You would be the one to clean up this mess, like always.

“What happened with Bucky?” She demands when she walks in. “He’s been at the tower all day, in a rampage.” She finally looks at you, “Holy, shit, Y/n. You look awful.” She says, eyeing you up and down.

“Thanks.” You roll your eyes.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re telling her everything. From your mom calling to your dad’s death and the way Bucky treated you the night before.

“I can’t believe he would yell at me because I didn’t want to have sex with him.” You shake your head, incredulous. “He made me feel like all I am is a warm body to him.”

Wanda’s fuming.

“And then at that point it felt like I couldn’t tell him about my dad because it really seemed like he could not have cared less about what I was feeling. It seems like that a lot of the time these days, with all of the missions.

“And I just… can’t keep putting him back together when I feel so broken myself.” You level her with your gaze, “I feel like I don’t have anything left to give him.” You whisper.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and don’t do anything to stop them, unable to conceal your feelings any longer.

Eventually, you sob, “I love him so much. I… I… I don’t know how to talk to him about it. He has so much going on all the time. I don’t want to be a burden, but I really need him right now.”

After nearly 6 months together, you still had trouble opening up to him. Afraid he would decide all of your baggage was too much to handle, when he had so much of his own.

“Does he make you feel like that when you try to talk to him? Like you’re a burden? Have you ever opened up to him about any of this?” She’s referring to your troubling childhood and all of the men who ruined you.

“We never really talk about stuff like this. I’m afraid it would be too much for him.”  And he’d leave me, you don’t say the words out loud, feeling pathetic.  

You talked about his problems, sure, but it never felt right to bring up your mom or your dad or the men who ruined you. They seemed so trivial compared to 70 years of torture.

For once, you’re happy you don’t have to explain out loud. Wanda hears what you’re thinking and wipes the tears from under your eyes.

“Look at me, Y/n.” Her voice is almost harsh. “You are not a burden. You need to talk to him, Y/n.” Wanda tells you. “Just because his issues seem worse than yours doesn’t mean they are. He doesn’t deserve you.” She shakes her head, trying to quell her anger.

“You have to tell him how he made you feel last night. Let him feel bad, let him be sorry. Don’t make yourself small just so he can feel whole.” She grabs your hand and squeezes.

You nod again, “Yeah. You’re right. Tomorrow.”

Wanda nods and takes you to the bathroom to run a brush through your hair before putting some cream under your eyes for the puffiness. You let her take care of you for a little, feeling very grateful you have a friend like her.

“You need to get out of this apartment.”  Wanda declares, “Just a drink.”

“Fine.” You concede, “Just one.”

___________________________________________

Bucky’s locked in his room when his phone rings. When he sees Wanda’s number, he sends it to voicemail. It rings again. He ignores it.

When it rings the third time he answers, “What?” He asks harshly.

“I need your help. I lost Y/n.” Wanda sounds scared. His stomach sinks.

“You lost her?” He grits out.

Wanda explains that the two of you had went out for a drink and a drink turned into drinks and she stepped away for a moment to close the tab and you were gone.  

“Where the fuck are you?” Bucky snaps.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Wanda says lowly. “This is all your fault.”

“Where are you?” He says again, desperately.

“I’m outside Union Pool.” She tells him, “She was really drunk. Hurry.”

Bucky’s there in less than 15 minutes.

“What happened?” He demands.

Wanda sighs, tells him almost everything. She doesn’t get into the details of why you were so upset, just that something happened last week while he was gone and you haven’t been eating and now you were wasted and alone.

“You fucked up.” She says lowly.

Bucky starts pacing like a caged animal, sinking feeling in his stomach when he thinks about the way he treated you last night.

“We’ll find her, okay?” She says. Bucky nods.

For nearly a half hour they search every bar in a 10 block radius, but there’s no sight of you. Bucky’s losing it, an anxious mess. “What if something happened? Wanda, what if she’s-”

“Shut up.” Wanda says, pulling out her phone.

“Who are you-”

“Tony.” Wanda sighs into the phone, “I need your help.”

In less than 20 minutes, Tony’s pulling up in one of his big black SUVs. Bucky’s practically hyperventilating. He flings the door open before the car is at a full stop and pulls himself into the passenger door.

“Stark,” He says, edge to his voice, “Were you able to find her?”

“Nice to see you too, Bucky. I was happy to help, it was really no problem at all.” Tony replied sarcastically.

Wanda, in the back seat, pipes up, “Thank you so much Tony.”

“We were able to track down her phone. It took 5 minutes. It looks like she’s walking home.” Tony hands Bucky a small tablet. On the screen there’s a map and a red dot that’s moving slowly.

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters. The area you were in was basically a no-mans-land. Between Williamsburg and Bushwick it was home to huge warehouses and not much else. “Can you drive faster?” He snaps at Tony.

Tony almost retorts, but takes one look fear and worry on Bucky’s face and decides to stay quiet. It’s not long before they find you, basically stumbling down a dimly-lit street, shoes in hand. The car screeches to a stop and Bucky jumps out, startling you.

“Bucky?” You hiccup. You’re crying, tears running down your face.

“What were you thinking?!” He demands, both hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, this neighborhood isn’t safe. Are your feet bleeding?”

You shrug, not looking at him.

Wanda steps out of the car and steps in front of Bucky shoots him an angry look, “You can’t just leave like that, Y/n, you had me worried.”

You don’t look at Bucky, he doesn’t sound worried, just angry. “You left.” You whimper.

“Just to close the tab.” She pushes your hair out of your face and wipes your tears away. Bucky feels inexplicably envious of the way she’s touching you.  

“Sorry.” You whisper. “I thought… I don’t know. I just wanted to get home and the train’s not running and I couldn’t find a cab.”  

Wanda cups a hand to your cheek, “You need to take better care of yourself.” She glances between you and Bucky for a moment before sliding back into the car. Bucky expects the two to drive away, but the car idles.

“What’s going on, Y/n?” Bucky asks with a sigh, exasperated, voice raised a little.

You feel your breathing grow heavy, “Why’d you say it like that.” Even through your drunken haze, your voice sounds weak and you hate it.

“Really?” He steps back, “You want to fight over my tone right now? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

You can’t even look at him, “I don’t want to fight.”

“You sure, Y/n? Cause I’ve had a bad couple of fucking weeks, might as well add it to the list.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

“I just want to talk to you,” You whisper. “Why are you so mad at me?”

“Then talk!” You don’t understand why he can’t be as gentle with you right now as you are with him when he’s not feeling right.

You’re quiet, unable to find words, looking at him desperately, silently begging him to understand. He turns away in frustration.

“My dad died on Wednesday.” You finally blurt out.

You stare at your hands as they shake. You hear the sharp breath Bucky takes. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting you to say but it definitely wasn’t that. “He overdosed. Heroin, I think, but I really don’t know.”

Bucky feels suddenly nauseous. He turns back to you and watches you clench your hands into fists to stop the tremors. He wants to cross the sidewalk to you, take you in his arms, but all he can think about is the look you had on your face last night after he yelled at you.

“He left when I was 11. I don’t remember much.” You swallow. “But I remember one time after he picked me up from school then when to his dealers house. He told me to hide under the seat until he got back. I was there for 5 hours. Or when he promised to come to one of my soccer games every year for 4 years straight and never came. I remember wishing I had my dad loved me like my friend’s dads loved them.”

You’re drunkenly rambling, unable to hold back the words.

Bucky stands, rooted to his place on the sidewalk, listening to you heave and cry through your words. He remembers the way he touched you, how rough he was when you had needed the exact opposite.

“He used to send me a card every year on my birthday. I… can’t believe I used to look forward to it. It was my favorite part of the whole day.” You laugh at yourself for being so foolish before it fades into sobs.

Bucky can’t breathe.

“I need you.” You beg. “I needed you last night.”

He crosses the sidewalk in a daze and stands in front of you, feeling like he didn’t deserve to ever touch you again. He hesitates and you cry harder, burying your face in your hands.

“Why don’t- you- care?” You say between heaving sobs.  He can barely make out your words, but they break him.

And the way you were so patient with him with his feelings. Always pressing, always making him talk, making sure he was okay.

He can’t believe how terrible he’s been to you without even realizing it. He gingerly pulls you into him and your knees give out. He scoops you into his arms easily and walks towards the car. He’s trying to stay composed but his knees feel week and his chest feels tight.

Once you realize Tony is driving, your sobs turn to hysterics. You had really thought he had seen you at your lowest when you ended up in the med-bay at Stark Tower the night Bucky woke up not Bucky, but this was a new low.

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You sob. It seems like now that you’ve started crying you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“It’s okay, kid. I’m here to help.” He says it warmly, paternally, but when his eyes meet Bucky’s in the rear view they’re cold. He had definitely heard everything.

The car is silent aside from your heavy breaths and Bucky’s soft ‘shh’s for a moment. Then, suddenly, your body feels hot and your stomach turns and the motion of the car is all too much.

“Pull over.” You demand, blindly reaching for the door. Tony does so immediately, and before anyone realizes what’s going on, you’re falling out of the SUV and retching all of the alcohol in your stomach onto the sidewalk.

You don’t remember anything after that.

________________________________________________

The next morning you wake with a pounding headache and an awful taste in your mouth. Eyes still closed, you recall the events of the night before and groan out loud.

“Y/n?” A rough voice whispers from beside you.

You open your eyes to see Bucky in an uncomfortable kitchen chair that’s pulled up next to your bed, wearing his clothes from the night before. He offers you a soft smile and you give him one back. You stare at each other for a moment before your eyes drop down to your hands.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You say quietly before maneuvering around him and shutting yourself in the bathroom, feet stinging as you walk.

Barely looking in the mirror, you wash your face and brush your teeth. You take note that you’re dressed in your sleep clothes, Bucky must have helped you change. You pour yourself a cup of water and head back to your bedroom.

Bucky’s eyes follow you as you walk back to him, pulling him onto the bed before crawling into his lap. You nuzzle your face into his neck and he pulls you close, finally able to feel the comfort of his arms around you.

“Why don’t you hate me?” He wonders aloud.

“Could never hate you.” You mumble.

“Y/n, all I can think about is Friday night.” He jumps right into the conversation you needed to have.

You look away, just getting right to the point. “It seems like all you care about is my body these days. How I can make you feel.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” His voice is low.

“You didn’t notice.” You mumble. “I wasn’t okay and you didn’t notice. Or maybe you did and just didn’t care. You made me feel awful.”

Bucky’s quiet, staring at you desperately, not able to find words.

“You made me feel like all I am is what I can give you.” You think it might be harsh, but you need to be honest. “I didn’t give you what you wanted so you left.”

“You asked me to.” He tries.

“You don’t fight for me the way I fight for you.” You accuse.  

You’re right and he knows it.

“Why?” You ask. Looking up at him through your lashes.

He thinks it might be the hardest question anyone has ever asked him. He doesn’t have an answer for you. Your words ring in his head and he can’t reconcile how he feels with the way he’s been acting.

“I don’t know.” He answers. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.” You snap, sliding out of his lap. You take a deep breath to calm down.

“This is hard for me, okay?” He runs a hand through his hair, standing.

“What do you think it’s like for me?!” You finally yell, turning to face him. “You tell me you love me and care about me and ‘I’m your world’ and then you act the way you did last and all I can think is that I don’t think that’s love but how would I know?”

You stand in front of him, letting out everything you’ve been feeling the past couple months.

“Every man that’s told me he loved has done this.” You whisper, a fresh onslaught of tears falling down your cheeks. “Why?” You ask again, meeting his eyes desperately, “Why don’t you see me.”

In front of him your hands shake. You take deep, heaving breaths and keep wondering aloud why he doesn’t care. What did you need to do to make him care?

“Oh my god.” Bucky stares at the ceiling, trying not to cry himself. He pulls you close to his chest and lets you cry. “I’m so sorry. I do. I see you.” He repeats the words over and over.

It doesn’t seem like enough.

“I need you.” You gasp out.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m right here.” He sooths you, “I’m not going anywhere.”

When you calm down he sits you down on the bed and drops down next to you.

“I’ve been selfish these last few months.” He starts. “You do everything for me and I treat you like this. You should leave me. I don’t know what I’d do, but you should.” He shakes his head.

“Bucky…” You hate when he says stuff like that.

“I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling like you can’t talk to me. And I’m sorry I didn’t notice something was wrong. I need you to feel like you can talk to me about anything and I need to be more patient with you.” He pushes some hair out of your face. “You’re so much more than a warm body. You’re everything and I haven’t been treating you like it.”

“I need to stop using what happened to me as an excuse to treat you like shit.” He finally says it, taking full responsivity for his actions.

“Anyone.” You correct him.

“What?”

“You need to stop using what happened to you as an excuse to treat anyone like shit. Not just me.” You chastise him.

“You’re right.” He says, staring at you intently. “I just want to be someone who deserves you. Deserves to be loved by you. ”

The look in his eyes makes you believe him.

His words are composed, thought out. His quiet reflection and apology are enough for you, for now.

“You deserve to be loved and happy no matter what, Bucky.” Your hand cups his face and he leans into your touch. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? We’ll figure it out, we don’t have a choice. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll be better.” He promises. Your fingers trace down his jaw, feather light. The softness of your words and touches are so overwhelming for him he feels tears prick at his eyes.

“Y/n, I swear. I need you so much and I know I always tell you to go and leave me but I don’t mean it… I don’t think I could live without you. And knowing that you were hurting and I was so awful is driving me fucking crazy.”

“I feel like I’m always hurting you or doing something wrong or-”

You cut him off with a press of your lips to his, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He scoffs, looks away, “Probably more like the worst, but okay.”

“Look, it’s true. You make me so happy all the time. You make me feel like I can do anything. You make me feel beautiful and loved. I learn and grow as a person every day with you.” You offer him an encouraging smile.

You continue, “I should have told you how I was feeling from the start, Bucky, and this could have all been avoided. And yeah, you fucked up a little. You hurt me.”

He casts his eyes down but you slip a finger under his chin and force him to look at you.

“But we’re gonna be okay. I promise. We can get through anything together.”

“I love you.” He whispers before kissing you deeply.

You’re panting by the time he pulls away, “I love you too.”

He stands and pulls you up, noticing the way you flinch when your feet hit the hardwood. He sighs.

“Where are you…?” You wonder aloud as he exits the room for a moment before returning with a warm, soapy washcloth.

He drops to his knees in front of you and reaches for your left foot, gingerly cleaning the dried blood and dirt.

The moment turns so intimate so fast it feels like you have whiplash.

“You don’t have to.” You whisper, looking down at him, eyes wide.

“Let me.” He says desperately, clears his throat, “Let me take care of you.”

One hand on your ankle, he sits in front of you and tends you your cut up, dirty feet. It’s quiet, aside from your heavy breathing. The sun streams through your bedroom windows, lighting the whole room golden.

You think of the humility it requires for him to be on his knees in front of you, cleaning your feet. The vulnerability.

You’re both blushing.

He soothes his Vibranium hand over your skin, goosebumps travel up your leg.

When he’s satisfied with his work on your left foot, he drops and moves to the right, “I think you stepped in glass.”

You hum, enjoying him taking care of you. The feeling of his hands touching you tenderly.

“I’m so sorry about your father.” He murmurs, kissing the inside of your foot. He slides his hand up your calf. “Do you want to talk about it?”

His words hang in the air as he finishes tending to your feet.

You pull him up to your level, kissing him slowly. “I do.” You whisper, voice rough, “I do, but it’s a lot.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, “That’s okay, baby. I want to be here for you.”

“Okay.” You whisper. “You can’t get scared and run away because my issues freak you out.”

Bucky laughs out loud, “I bet they’re not scarier than mine.”

You giggle, “Not quite, but still.” You give him a pointed look.

With a sigh, he cups your face, “Nothing you tell me could make me run away. I want to know everything. I love you.” He promises.

“Okay.” You whisper.

There’s a lot to say, more than could be said in one afternoon, but he listens. Constantly reassures you he loves you, that he’ll never leave you. That’s he’s sorry and you don’t deserve the pain and he’ll take it from you and carry it on his shoulders if he has to.

You let him.

_____________________________________________

Addiction is a disease. If you’re struggling with addiction and need help you can call SAMHSA’s National Helpline, 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

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[urdearestmom]

genderbent (mileven week)

Maribel Wheeler woke up feeling like shit on Monday. She had a feeling that this week was going to be bad. She could feel herself getting a cold, and she knew her period was coming in the next few days or so. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

She dragged herself out of bed, groaning all the way through breakfast and all the way to school and all the way through homeroom. First period marched on, mind-numbing as usual, then second, then third and fourth. After fourth, Maribel made her way to the cafeteria for lunch.

She sank onto the plastic bench and lay on the table, feeling like she was melting into it. She was so tired. She didn’t perk up at all when she heard her friends sitting down around her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Came the voice of Darla.

Maribel groaned against the tabletop. “I feel like shit.”

“Did you have your period yet?” Asked Lucy.

“Lucy, for God’s sake. Not everything is about my period. But no. It’s coming.”

“It’s probably that.”

Maribel groaned again before lifting her head, her dark, wavy hair flowing loose down her back. Her friends Darla and Lucy were casually eating their lunches while the last of their group, Willa, reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it, Mari. You’ll feel better soon,” she said reassuringly.

Willa was wrong. Tuesday didn’t fare much better, with Darla choosing to laugh at the fact that Maribel could barely fit into a B cup.

(“My tits are perfectly fine, Darla! Just because I’m skinny-”

“I’m just saying! What’s Jo E supposed to touch when there’s nothing there?”)

This was a point of contention because Maribel insisted that her crush would like her for who she was and not her body. Lucy was skeptical of anything happening at all, ever, while Willa was supportive. Darla, on the other hand, thought that Maribel’s crush on their school’s resident weirdo was bound to go down in flames, and she was going to be there to watch (with popcorn).

Maribel personally thought that Darla was just jealous that double Ds meant more expensive bras than Bs.

Wednesday rolled in and out much the same, only Maribel could feel the cold really coming in. Her throat was starting to go sore and her nose was runny, and to top it all off she saw John Elliot in the hallway and he spoke to her. Granted, all he said was hi, but Maribel was absolutely disgusted that of all days it had to be the one where she felt like she was about to cough up phlegm if she opened her mouth.

Thursday was the worst day of the week. In the morning, Maribel woke up and felt the telltale slickness between her legs that told her that Satan’s Waterfall had begun its monthly visit to her in the middle of the night. This meant she had to rush to get dressed and change her sheets before leaving for school, so she barely had any time for breakfast and went to class with her hair an absolute wreck.

The only thought running through her head all day was please God can I just go home. That is, until fifth period, when her only thought was PLEASE GOD CAN I JUST DIE RIGHT NOW.

Upon entering geography class, Maribel smiled nervously and waved a little at John Elliot, who was sitting in his usual seat in the front row, curly hair fluffed up in every direction. The sunlight coming in from the window was bouncing off his face. He looked absolutely adorable, as usual, and it made Maribel’s heart clench.

She hadn’t yet noticed that he wasn’t really looking at her, or that the rest of the class was staring at her as if waiting for something. She was too caught up in sighing at how absolutely wonderful John Elliot looked in the light.

But then.

Then she took her seat. And Maribel looked at the chalkboard. And she instantly felt her lunch come up into her throat. On the chalkboard, written in large letters for everyone to read, were the words, MARIBEL W HAS A BIG FAT CRUSH ON JOHN ELLIOT.

It was then that she realized everyone was staring at her, waiting for a reaction, and her lips began to quiver as her vision blurred. She wasn’t sure if these were angry or upset tears, but probably a mixture of both. Without a word, Maribel stormed back to the front of the classroom and began erasing the message. She wondered where the hell their teacher was before turning around and surveying her classmates.

“Whichever one of you wrote that is an absolute asshole!” She said in a wobbly, teary voice. “You can’t just take people’s feelings and make them into a joke!” Her voice cracked at the end as she choked on a sob.

Her embarrassment was too great to spare a look at the object of her affections before fleeing the room. Maribel rushed straight into the nearest girls’ restroom and locked herself in a stall, dropping down onto the toilet lid and hiding her face in her hands. She hid in the restroom for the whole period, crying her eyes out.

She couldn’t believe it. Who would do that? Who would want to hurt her like that? She wasn’t exactly well-liked or anything, but she didn’t think she was hated either. Except for by maybe one person who went by the name of Theresa, but Theresa wasn’t in that class. At the thought of the class itself, Maribel remembered John Elliot staring at the board wordlessly. It was like he’d seen a ghost and it broke her heart to think about it. Was the idea of her having a crush on him that horrible?

Sixth period, Maribel went to the main office and called home. Her mom didn’t answer, so she called her dad at work instead.

“Hello?” He sounded tired. Her dad worked a lot and was unhappy and under-appreciated in his marriage, but he always tried his best to be there for his kids. The same couldn’t be said for his wife.

“Hi, dad.” Maribel’s voice went over the line wavery and she knew her dad would pick up on it.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

She swallowed. “I’m not feeling well. Can I go home early?”

Her dad sighed. “Sure. Be careful on your way. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, dad.”

“Feel better, alright? Do you need me to pick anything up?”

“No, I just need to go home.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Bye.”

She went home and straight to bed, lights out until the next day. She didn’t even wake up for dinner. But when she woke up Friday morning with an ache in her bones that made it pretty obvious she’d caught some type of flu, she was glad for an excuse to stay home. Going to school only to face ridicule and rejection would just be too much.

Maribel’s mother left her pretty much alone, only bringing her a bowl of chicken soup at noon but otherwise spending the day watching TV. Maribel stayed holed up in her room all day, wallowing and using up all the tissues in the box. She did some homework for a while, but then she went back to bed and lay there thinking about what she was going to do when she went back to school on Monday.

God, she was going to have to talk to John Elliot, wasn’t she? She really didn’t want to. Maybe if she just avoided him and pretended everything was fine then she wouldn’t have to. Maybe it’d even help her get over him!

Oh, who was she kidding…

It had all started in freshman year. Maribel had dropped a pile of books she’d been putting back on the shelf in the library because the new kid, John Elliot Hopper, had appeared silently out of nowhere and scared her. He’d quietly asked her where to find the sci-fi section, nervously pulling on the curls by his ears, his honey eyes melting right into Maribel’s heart. From then on, she had been a total goner. Any time she saw him in the hall or in class, her heart beat faster and her palms got sweaty. She was probably really obvious with all her staring; her friends didn’t call her Maribel “Heart Eyes” Wheeler for no reason. She spoke to him sometimes, if he was in the library at the same time as her, and that was when she came up with the nickname Jo E. It’s pronounced the same as the name Joey, just spelled Jo E because it’s short for John Elliot. He smiled every time she said it.

In sophomore year, they did a project together, and it was absolute heaven to have a reason to spend so much time around him. It was during this time, as they hung out a little more, that he came up with his own nickname for her. He started calling her Bel, which was refreshing since everyone else always called her Mari. Maribel just about went into cardiac arrest after the first time he called her that and every time after. They got a really good grade too, so it was just excellent all around. Maribel also met John Elliot’s only friend, a redheaded, freckle-faced skater boy by the name of Max. Max had been the new kid in eighth grade, but everyone had quickly forgotten about him when he didn’t prove himself to be super weird. Not like John Elliot.

John Elliot was considered a weirdo because he rarely spoke to anyone besides Max, and if he did it was never outside of school. In fact, it seemed he rarely spoke at all. Lucy and Darla said they’d seen him once at Melvald’s and that he’d clearly seen them, but he hadn’t spoken a word; simply waving quickly and disappearing. It was another of the reasons why Maribel was so captivated by him: he was mysterious. She wanted to know more about him. But he was also kindhearted and warm, and just absolutely, positively adorable. John Elliot was the cutest boy Maribel had ever laid eyes on.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door, followed by the entrance of her little brother, Hunter.

“Are you feeling better, Mari?” He asked.

Maribel sniffed loudly and wrapped her comforter tighter around herself. “Not really, Peppermint,” she answered. Hunter’s nickname was Peppermint because it was his favourite candy all year round, even not at Christmas.

Hunter frowned, his floppy blonde hair bouncing on his head as he walked closer. “But your friends are here.”

Maribel coughed. “Tell them that unless they’re okay with getting sick too to go home.”

Hunter nodded. “Okay.” He left the room and a few moments later the door burst open again, revealing a crazed-looking Darla, a sympathetic Willa, and a worried Lucy.

“What happened yesterday? We heard you left during sixth period,” said Lucy.

Willa nodded. “People were saying stuff but we wanted to hear it from you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause half the things people say are bullshit,” added Darla.

Maribel blinked a few times, lessening the ache behind her eyes. “Some asshole wrote on the board in fifth that I have a crush on Jo E and I ran out,” she explained. “And he’s in that class. Sits right in the front row and everything,” she added in a broken whisper. “He probably hates me right now.”

Willa sat down on the edge of Maribel’s bed and rubbed a comforting hand over the lump that was her legs. “I’m sure he doesn’t. Jo E doesn’t seem like the type to hate someone over something like this.”

“Yeah,” affirmed Darla, lowering herself to the floor close to Maribel’s head with a grunt. “I know I make fun of you for liking him, but there’s no way he would.”

Lucy stood between Willa and Darla with her arms crossed. “You have to talk to him. He already knows now, so all you have to do is find out how he feels about it.”

Maribel shivered at the idea, but it might’ve also just been chills from being sick. “Can’t I just pretend it never happened?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “No, because you can’t avoid life forever. You would’ve had to deal with it at some point.”

“I hate boys,” Maribel protested, sliding her comforter over her head. “I never want to see one again.”

“Mari, you have two brothers.”

“Not what I meant!”

She couldn’t see Darla, but Maribel knew she’d just thrown her hands up in exasperation. “Not what you said two days ago either when you were gushing about Jo E saying hi to you in the hall. You’re being a little bitch.”

“That’s harsh, D,” came Willa’s soft voice. “Mari’s hurting, what they did to her sucks.”

“Thanks, Willa.”

“But I do think you should talk to him,” Willa continued.

Maribel groaned. “Traitors, the three of you.”

“We’re not traitors,” interjected Lucy. “Mari, you gotta look at me.”

Reluctantly, Maribel removed the comforter from her head. Lucy was looking at her with a stoic expression, but Maribel could see a smile tugging on the corners of her friend’s lips.

“Listen,” Lucy said seriously, “I know I was the skeptical one, but John Elliot himself cornered me in last period today to ask me to tell you that he wants to talk to you. He wasn’t mad, he was just worried since you didn’t come to school. So talk to him.”

Shortly afterwards, her friends all had to go home, none of them wanting to stay in Maribel’s presence long enough to catch the flu themselves anyway. Over the weekend, she pondered. She mostly lay in bed, but spent some time catching up on the homework her friends had brought her.

Monday morning dawned slightly less shitty than the last one, but Maribel’s heart was in her throat. She’d made up her mind to have a talk with John Elliot after all; to make her feelings clear. She put on her favourite striped sweater for a confidence boost and paired it with a random pair of pants she found on her floor. She brushed through her hair once, then looked in the mirror and got angry at a stupid piece that was sticking up in the back. Why couldn’t her hair just lie flat for once? She wanted to look perfect.

In the end, her hair refused to do what she wanted and she gave up. John Elliot was just going to have to deal with it. At lunch, Darla made Maribel run through every possible variation of a conversation that she could come up with until Maribel got sick of it and started ignoring her. Fifth period rolled around and Maribel walked into her classroom full of trepidation. John Elliot wasn’t there yet, but she was sure he would be.

He appeared not a minute later, taking his seat a few desks in front and to the right of her, and Maribel thought he wasn’t going to acknowledge her. But then he turned around.

“Can we talk after school?” He asked.

Maribel gulped. She was hoping it could’ve been quick enough to speak after class. “Um-” Her eyebrows pulled together. “Okay. Bike rack?”

Jo E smiled and Maribel’s heart pounded against her ribs so hard she thought it was going to jump right out.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of anticipation. Maribel almost smacked her head against her locker shelf in her haste to grab all her things and get outside. Willa was already standing by the bike rack when she got there, so Maribel sent her inside with word to Darla and Lucy.

A few minutes later, Maribel was still standing alone by her bike, awkwardly picking at the pills on her sweater. Was Jo E even going to show or had she been made a fool once again? She was about to leave when said boy came barrelling out the doors of the school.

“Sorry, Bel!” He called. “Max held me up.”

His curls were especially glorious today and Maribel wanted nothing more than to stick her hands in and run her fingers through them. But she held herself back.

“Hi,” she responded shyly.

Jo E smiled at her again and Maribel thought she was going to explode.

“So, um… about last week…”

Maribel sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have yelled in class like I did,” she admitted, gaze drifting somewhere between his dirty Chucks and hers. “I just… didn’t want you to find out like that. I wanted to tell you myself.”

John Elliot shook his head. “Whoever did that has issues.”

While Maribel was glad that he wasn’t mad at her and didn’t seem disgusted by the fact that she liked him, she also wanted Jo E to get to the point and tell her how he felt. “So…” She dragged the toe of her sneaker across the pavement. “What do you, um… think about it?”

She almost didn’t look at him, but she was glad she did. John Elliot’s eyes were shining with an emotion she couldn’t place, warming her right up to the tips of her fingers and toes. The traces of her flu? Vanished.

“Would you mind if I showed you?” Jo E asked softly.

Maribel shook her head, face lighting up bright pink. She watched as his hands rose to her face, one of them reaching for a lock of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. For a second, it was as if time had stopped as they stared into each other’s eyes, but then John Elliot’s face got too close to hers for Maribel to see him without crossing her eyes, so she closed them. And then…

His lips were soft but insistent, pressing against hers in the most wonderful way. Maribel got chills again. She never expected kissing to feel so good.

She didn’t know how long they were kissing for, a year could have passed for all she cared, but when Jo E pulled away from her she felt that all was right with the world.

“I have a big fat crush on you too, Maribel W,” he said. “I hope it’s obvious now.”

Maribel grinned. “Lucy and Darla are never going to believe this.”

“What?”    

[his-winter-rose]

One of my many hardships (super long post i apologise)

So, I think it’s high time I express something that happened to me back in 2016. October 13-18th to be exact. Again, I apologise that it’s going to be very long by the time i’ve got my thoughts and everything in. So... here it goes.

Let’s start from the beginning. Of course.

Thursday October 13th, 2016- I was sitting in the art room as usual, with my friend LB. I don’t remember what brought it up, but she turned to me, and ripped into me about how I like J, how it’s wrong and an “unhealthy obsession”. I didn’t say anything to her, I just got up and walked out. Because if I stayed, I would have knocked her out. So instead, I walked all the way across the school to the farthest bathroom, and punched the wall before breaking down crying. I didn’t talk to her for the rest of the day. However, I brought it up with her later that night, asking why she did it. She got super pissed at me, but again I don’t know what was said.

Friday October 14th, 2016- After the evening fight through messages, naturally once we got to school, we weren’t on speaking terms. I had geography second period that day, and she didn’t sit beside me as she always does. At one point, J made a comment “it looks like no one wants to sit next to you L. Are you being a good classmate? Are you being a good friend?” I laughed it off, so he wouldn’t see how much that actually hurt me. At the end of the lesson, E asked me what was going on between LB and myself, but I just glanced at J, murmured “it doesn’t matter” and walked out. Nothing else happened for that day.

The weekend passed as usual without us talking, and then Monday arrives...

Monday October 17th, 2016- I got to school with the knowledge that LB wasn’t going to talk to me. What I wasn’t prepared for, is what happened at break 1... U and S pulled me into the locker bay beside where we would always sit and eat at break times, and they talked about this fight I was having with LB. They practically forced me to go out and talk to LB. I stood in front of her, while U said “LB, L ha something she wants to say” “I don’t know what I want to say” i murmured absently. LB then ripped into me for the second time. “I hate seeing you depressed because of a teacher! I want to fucking kill myself because of you! You have an unhealthy obsession that needs to stop! How am I supposed to react when my friend likes a teacher?!” That’s only a few of the things she screamed at my face. I just looked on, all emotion drained from my body. U then forced us to go into the classroom nearby and ‘talk it out’, basically  forcing LB and I in there. We were in there for maybe 20 seconds before I lost my composure, breaking down right there and then. I basically collapsed to the floor while sobbing “I never wanted to have feelings for him! I’m sorry...” but I was apologising more to myself than her. And so seeing me in this weakened state, that fucking bitch thought she could get back in my good books, by sitting beside me and comforting me. If I had been able to think, I would not have let her near me. But I was weak, and couldn’t do much but cry into my arms. After awhile, we walked out and headed down to Geography which just happened to be the subject I had after break that day. I surely must have looked like shit, but J didn’t say anything, just acted as he usually does The rest of the day went by without much more drama. However I wasn’t prepared for the next day...

Tuesday October 18th, 2016- The first two classes of the day had gone by normally, though LB wasn’t at school. But I had expected that. However, once again, break 1 came around and everything turned to shit. I was up where I eat my lunch, when Mrs R, the assistant principal was walking past me. “Oh, L! come with me to my office, I want to speak to you” “alrighty” I said cheerfully, but was instantly nervous. When we got to her office, I commented “this is the first time i’ve been in here, should I be scared?” “why should you be scared?” “I don’t know I’m asking you” she laughed at that and told me to take a seat. “so, you’re here partially because of a health and safety concern that i’m sure you’re aware of” Mrs R started, and right then it hit me. Someone told senior management what LB had said about wanting to kill herself because of me. I nodded in response to her comment, and so she continued. “what do you post on your facebook page?” “er usually stuff I see that I like” I said in a confused tone, like why was she asking about that?. “What about that pregnancy thing you posted?” “what- oh that. i don’t know I was like oh let’s do this because i’m bored” “and what you commented?” “what did I... I don’t remember what I said” I frowned. it was from like 2 years prior to this day. Smiling to take the sting out of her words, she said “don’t play games with me L, that’s honestly the one thing I hate” “i honestly do not remember what I said” “something about knowing who the dad would be?”. At that point I was thinking ‘what the fuck seriously you stalked my facebook account? Ever heard of a thing called privacy? And how the hell did you find that in the first place? Or if I was meaning who i know she’s hinting at’. “I honestly don’t even remember that” I said calmly, because it’s true. “So, I understand you have a bit of a crush on Mr W” she changed the topic slightly. “yeah” I nodded and murmured, not trying to deny it because even though she asked, I know she knew the answer. She was testing to see if I would lie or not. “I’m glad you’re being honest, I have to give you that” I just smiled the slightest and nodded, going into a more distant, mute state. Mrs R launched into a lecture about how that post could have been hinting I was having sex with J and all this other shit even though that wasn’t even on my mind whenever I made that post in probably like 2015 pfft. Instead, I just put myself into a state where I nod, say “yeah” and “I understand”. She was saying the whole “this needs to stop” thing, and something like “if it was the other way around where he liked you, would it be inappropriate?” but it wasn’t worded that way, she said it in a confusing way which I answered “yeah” but she was like “no it wouldn’t” “kidding, i misheard the question” “yeah, you misheard the question” she chuckled, before continuing. “you two could never be alone, someone would have to be in the classroom with you at all times. And if anything were to happen, in the end he is in the position of authority and both of you would get into big trouble” “yeah I know...” i murmured, while thinking ‘do you seriously think I don’t fucking know this already?’ But I was so vacant and numb by that point it was like my soul had actually abandoned my body. She went on to say how he’s old enough to be my dad blah blah blah and meanwhile she handed me a nearby box of tissues, since my eyes were watering but was trying my damn hardest not to cry. The next words she said, made me freeze momentarily. “Do I need to call mum?” “please don’t” I said in such a weak pleading voice, while shaking my head. ‘Fuck no, anything but that. I’m fucked if my parents get involved. It’s bad enoug LB will have gone to her mother about everything. “okay, I won’t. But you have to promise me that you’ll stop this, because the thoughts you have aren’t the most appropriate”. Boy did my mind start up then ‘Oh for fucks sake you have no fucking idea what I think! I don’t always just think of getting with him! Can’t I just fucking think of him normally?! According you you, apparently fucking not’. Mrs R continued “you’re a brilliant girl L, but this needs to stop” “yeah I know...” I said to her, while wondering how I hadn’t broken down by that point. “everyone makes mistakes” “...and they learn from them” finished. “Exactly, that’s right. Now, do you want me to organise a meeting with the guidance counselor?” “sure...” I stupidly said. “Okay, i’ll speak to her after this. And anything said there is confidential she won’t tell me or anyone unless you want her to”. I just nodded in response, and she stood up. “come here” she said softly, so i stood up and she pulled me into a hug, which made me let out a few tears, a sign of me breaking, but not completely. Mrs R then asked what subjects I was going to be taking for 2017 so that I could “tell my friends that’s what we were talking about” because they’d toootally believe I spent 20mins in her office talking about that. After taking a breath, I walked out of her office and up to where my bag was still sitting. The last couple of minutes of break I spent quiet, not eating because that’s the last thing I wanted to do.

So after break I had English. Mrs WS picked up that I wasn’t in a good mood, and asked if I was alright. I just shook my head and looked down. Then the guidance counselor, Mrs WI, walked in and tapped me on the shoulder, asked me to bring my things and go with her to her office. Once we arrived, we sat down and I saw for the first time just how much I was shaking. As soon as she started speaking, I was fighting back tears. “now believe me, I’ve dealt with this sort of thing many times before and i’ve heard everything, so don’t be afraid to say what you need to” “easier said than done...” I muttered. “Now, Mr W knows you like him, is that alright?” “yeah...? I frowned, because of how she said that as a question like uhm i’m the one who told him but it’s not like I can erase that knowledge now. “but that doesn’t change anything? you can both act normally around each other like always. He doesn’t act differently around you from other students does he?” “no” ‘i’m not about to tell you that i potentially overthink anything that happens with him’. I don’t remember all the conversation, but at a point she asked “So, what is it you like about Mr W? Is it his looks? I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised.” “A little bit. I mean I will admit he is good looking... but it’s mostly his personality because it in a way... reminds me of myself...? Sorry, i’m just not used to talking about this...”. I don’t remember her response, but something she asked just after that was “you haven’t done anything to hurt yourself because of these feelings, have you?” “no. I would never” I lied straight through my fucking teeth. In that exact moment I was avoiding not leaning on my arms because of cuts that were stinging so much... A few more things were said before she offered to go get one of my friends. I asked for R, who was in my english class. Mrs WI left to go get her, and they soon returned. R walked in, and Mrs WI left to let us talk. I spent about 5 minutes just crying on R’s shoulder, before we started talking about random things. probably 10mins passed, before the guidance counselor poked her head in and said the bell was about to ring, so we needed to head back to class. We left quietly and then some other drama happened with a friend putting her hip out so R went to go be with her, and by that time the bell went. And what subject did I get to have? Geography with J. It was the last thing I wanted. I walked down to class, told J that R probably wouldn’t be in class and I had to go get her books, and all that was said in a rushed, blunt tone and he only had time to say a flustered “okay, thanks” before I was gone. Once I returned to the class, I ignored J completely and turned cold towards him, which he picked up on quite quickly, but didn’t dare ask me about it. Once the lesson was finished, I said a quick “thanks”, got one in return from J and I got out there as fast as I could. Maths was my last subject and my teacher picked up on the fact that I wasn’t good, and hugged me multiple times. But nothing else happened for the remainder of the day.

THE END.

So that’s one of the most impacting things that have happened to me. My now ex-friend, telling me that i made her want to kill herself, is something that will stay with me for a long time, if not forever. it’s something I can never forgive her for doing, especially with the mental scar it’ll have on me. But anyway, if anyone reads up until this very end point, thank you... it took some courage to get myself to post this, but here we are... Again, thank you for reading, if you get to this point. xx

[333kaylynn]

27 Roses / e.d.

Y/n goes to a mental hospital and Ethan visits her every day until he stops for 27 days. “27 roses for every day I missed.”

Request: nahhh fam

Word Count: 2609

uhhh i apologize for continously going from 1st and 2nd person point of view. 

I’m tagging a few people, sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged!

@bouttogolinkurbitch

@dimply-dolan

@dolayn

@grayson-dolans-dangly-earring

@kara-dolan

@nomoregraydays

@bb-dolan

@olivia-m-dolan

@olderdolan

@justanotherdolanblog

@profanitydolan

okay im done tagging, please enjoy this bc its not the best but i meannnn

///

Day One was possibly the worst. I didn’t know anyone, nor did anyone know me. I didn’t want to sit through this stupid therapy session we had to do, but of course, I was forced. They allowed me to bring someone for the first group therapy, so I wasn’t uncomfortable. Ethan stayed with me throughout the whole thing. 

Everyone in my part of the hospital was between the ages 13-17. One girl was there for trying to commit suicide, I found out her name was Amber, and she’s 14. Elisia, 16, had gone for anger management issues. Tyler, same age as me, was there for drug use. 

To be honest, I didn’t think I belonged here. I mean, in the back of my mind, I knew knew I did, but I just felt out of the loop at the moment. Everyone already knew eachother, and I just got there. 

Ethan had to leave after therapy, and it hurt me to see him go. “I promise I’ll visit you everyday. Only 365 days.” Ethan assured you you would be okay. 

“I’m gonna miss you E.” I say, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss. 

“Okay, visiting hours are over. All friends and family must leave.” The announcement went through the speakers, and I walked Ethan to the door. 

Day Two was slightly better, I started talking to a few people, Olivia, Tyler, and Faith. Olivia and Tyler were both 17, and Faith was 16. 

Tyler had been in here for about a year before this, Olivia about 7 months, and Faith for only about 2 months before I had come. 

All we really did today was sit around and get to know eachother. We played random card games, ate, and just sat around mainly. 

Ethan came and visited again, during visiting hours. Just like he said he would.  It brought joy to my eyes too see him. 

3 to 5 o clock, every day. Those were visiting hours. 3 pm to 5 pm. 

“Hey babe. I’m here, just like I said I would be.” Ethan came through the glass doors that led to the main room of the facility. He stood in the same spot for a minute and looked around until he saw you at a table with Tyler, Faith, and Olivia. 

You stood up from the table and pulled him in for a hug. You ran your small, yet nimble fingers through his ruffled up hair, probably caused by Grayson. 

“How’s your mom doing?” You ask, pushing him off of you but still holding onto him. Ethan laughed and looked at you, answering softly, “You just saw her yesterday, y/n. Right before we came here.”

“I know, E. But hey, I have to ask how my second mom is doing. You know I do.” 

Your fingers went up and through his hair again. He smiled again and said, “I know, I know. She’s doing great. She said she might visit you on Sunday, because that’s her only day off from work. My dad might come too, and Cameron.” 

You smiled and thought of the entire Dolan family seeing you here, which brought your face to a frown. 

You didn’t want to seem weak around them. You knew they already knew you were here, but they didn’t see you here yet. It was scary, the thought of them seeing you like this. 

Maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough for Ethan. They’d make Ethan stop seeing you. You couldn’t stand the thought of that. You shook your head and looked back up at Ethan. 

He could tell something was off about you for that minute. Your troubled past caused you to space out from time to time, and it probably wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. 

“You okay?” Ethan asks, resting his hand on your shoulder and rubbing it for a minute before bringing it back down. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” You say, smiling at him and sitting back down at the table, “These are my new friends. Ethan, Tyler. Tyler, Ethan. Olivia, Ethan. Ethan, Olivia. Faith, Ethan. Ethan, Faith.” 

You took your time introducing everyone and after your introduction, Ethan immediately went into a conversation, like the social butterfly he is. 

Tyler and Ethan had a pretty intense conversation about Tyler’s life. Ethan wanted to know more about why people choose to do drugs. In his mind, there are so many things you can do to make yourself happy besides drugs. But in Tyler’s, it’s the only thing that made him happy. 

You, Faith, and Olivia were doing an even intenser range of things. Playing a game of Skip-Bo. It happened to be your favorite game since you were about 7, your grandma being the one to start your love for the game. 

Now, at the age of 17, your love still hasn’t stopped. 

“Hey, babe, I only have 30 minutes left.” Ethan says, scooting closer to your and whispering the words in your ear as you lie down a number 2 card. 

“Do you and Tyler want to join our game?” You ask, already starting to hand the two of the boys' cards. 

Day 29. It’s almost been your first month since you’ve started here. Ethan still came every day, just as he promised. 

It was now 8 pm, meaning you had 2 hours before lights out. Everyone from ages 13-15 were required to go to sleep by nine, and everyone ages 16 and 17 were allowed to stay awake until 10 if they wanted to. 

Every Thursday they put on “movie night” where the kids got to vote on a movie and watch it together with popcorn and blankets. The movie had to be Pg 13, due to the fact some of the kids could get triggered by certain things showed on R rated movies. 

You couldn't begin to imagine the things that could cause an outburst in this place. In the past 24 hours, we've had three emotional outbursts.

"Michael, sweetie. Calm down." Mrs. DeGram said as Ms. Weiss held him down due to his frustration.

Michael's mom hadn't shown up to visiting hours, but Michael was determined she'd show up.

"No! My mom will be here, she's just running late!" Michael screamed, pushing away from Ms. Weiss. Ms. Weiss got ahold of him again and held him down gently in order to calm him down.

"Michael, you need some food and some rest. Come with me." Mrs. DeGram says, holding Michael's hand as she pulls him down the small hallway that led to the dining area, where a few of the kids were seated.

Michael's mom came today, she sat and explained to him that his younger sister, Gabriella, was feeling sick last night so they brought her to see a doctor.

Faith also had a panic attack. Her father, whom she hadn't seen in ages, decided last night would be the perfect time to see her.

Faith had to be pulled away from the tall brown headed man that sat ahead of her after she screamed and clawed at him as she called him a "dirty cheating bastard"

Olivia held her closely as she shook from under her arm, whispering things to her to calm her down as her father was kicked off of the premises.

Gabe, the newest member of the facility, was having major drug withdrawals. Him and Tyler began talking about what made them start doing drugs, which seemed to have calmed Gabe down a bit.

Gabe and Tyler began laughing about their first time trying ecstasy, as me, Olivia, and Faith were playing yet another game of skip-bo.

Day 121, about 4 months in. Ethan still came to visit everyday. Seeing his tall body walk through the big glass doors, opening his arms for the hug you greeted him with every day. 

“Y/n, baby. I’ve missed you.” Ethan states as he pulls you back in for a hug, his grip beginning to get tighter. 

“Dude, I was actually just so happy when I did it. I just wanted to do everything I’ve ever wanted right then and there.” Tyler began telling Gabe, the two of them still talking about ecstasy. 

“Are they talking about drugs?” Ethan says, looking at the two of them and back at you. 

You smiled at him and gripped onto his arms, nodding your head, “Yeah, ecstasy I think.” 

Ethan just nods and the two of you take a seat, joining in on the conversation Faith and Olivia were having. Faith was laughing at some joke Ethan had made, while you and Olivia were talking more about family life and other random things. 

Olivia’s mom passed from cancer a few years back, that’s what initially started her depression. Her dad took a tough road when it happened as well, but the two of them stuck together through it all. He visits her every Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. The other days he has to work late. 

You turned to Ethan and laughed at some joke he made once again, causing him to grin and pull you in for another hug. You continued to laugh as you thought more about it. The joke wasn’t that funny, it was just some dad joke he probably saw on a popsicle stick before coming here. 

The next hour went by pretty quick, meaning Ethan would have to leave in the next few minutes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” You ask, hugging Ethan again and kissing him before he had to go. 

“Of course you will y/n. I wouldn’t forget.” Ethan says, holding you closely as your head rested on his shoulder. 

The next few months were basically the same, a few of the kids getting out and a few being transferred to the adult facility due to birthdays and being officially 18. 

It was now March 17th. Meaning I had about 3 more months before I was officially out of this place. They told me I would have to stay in the adult facility for a few days because I joined only 5 days after my 17th birthday, so I would turn 18 before they could legally let me out. 

Eventually, 3 o clock rolled around. I sat at the normal table I did while I waited for Ethan to show up. 

4 pm and he still wasn’t here. Maybe he had something come up. You didn’t want to worry too much, but in the back of your head you were extremely scared. 

“y/n, sweetie. He’ll be here tomorrow, just ignore it okay? I’m sure everything is fine.” Olivia said, pulling me in for a hug. Faith joined in soon after, which eventually led to a group hug with Me, Olivia, Faith, Gabe, and Tyler. The four of them all knew how much Ethan meant to me and how worried I was when he hadn’t shown up for today's visit. 

Soon enough, the next day rolled around. 

Ethan wasn’t here for this visiting either. My mind seemed to be a jumbled up mess at the time, my anxiety kicking in. 

Ethan had to show up, I know he did. He wouldn’t be late unless something bad happened. It wasn’t like him to do that. 

The next 2 weeks went by slowly, each day getting more painful. Ethan still hadn’t been there. You did everything in your power to ignore it but as the days went on you seemed to have just gotten more worried and more hurt. 

27 days later. Ethan hadn’t been there. You went over to the nurses office, where you asked Ms. Weiss if you could talk to her for a minute. 

“Of course y/n. What do you need dear?” Ms. Weiss said, allowing you to come into her office. You smile at her politeness and take a seat before asking, “Can you take Ethan Dolan’s name off of the visiting list?” 

She simply gives you a “is everything alright” look and then nods before going onto her computer to delete his name from the visiting list. “Would you like to continue receiving letters from him?” 

You nod and say that it’s okay if she kept that, maybe he would be able to explain himself. 

As you leave Ms. Weiss room, Faith runs up to you and pulls you over to where Olivia and Tyler were sitting, Tyler yelling at Olivia for an unknown reason. 

“Faith, what’s going on?” You ask, whisper-yelling into her ear. She shrugs and responds with, “I think something Olivia said upset Tyler. I don’t know what! Please help.” 

You nod at Faith and pull her in for a hug before telling her to go get one of the nurses to separate the two. 

The nurse comes back and pulls the two away from eachother and brings Tyler over to another area where Gabe was seated. You and Olivia talked about what happened and Faith sat in silence for the rest of the day, probably shaken up by two of her closest friends here getting into such a big fight. 

A fight between them wasn’t a very common thing, most of the time everything was nice and dandy. 

1 week later. Ethan had tried to show up his 28th day, you saw him. But the nurse waved him off and after a bit of arguing, he left. 

“y/n. These are for you.” Mrs. DeGram says, handing you a basket filled with roses. You look at it for a minute, confused as to who would send you so many roses. You turn it and see an envelope, which eases your confusion for a minute. 

Y/n, the envelope said very large across the top. It was clearly Ethan’s handwriting. You ripped the envelope open and started reading. 

“Y/n. I just want to begin and say how sorry I am. I skipped the past 27 days because I needed time to think. It hurt me to see you like this and I kept on my tough guy face for you. But I couldn’t do it anymore and I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want you to worry. And I know you’re angry with me. But please, please put my name back on the list so I can talk to you. I miss you.  -E”

You were still a bit angry, but you couldn’t be mad at him for too long. You walked to Ms. Weiss’ office and asked her to put Ethan’s name back on the list. She nodded and smiled as you left the room to go back to talking to Olivia and Faith. 

Soon enough, the next day rolled around. Ethan came, right at 3 o clock. He lightly smiled at you as he walked towards you, giving you a hug. 

You weeped in his arms. You didn’t expect to be sad when you saw him. You thought you’d be angry. But it wasn’t the case. You hadn’t realized how much you really missed him til now. 

Ethan began to explain himself, and if I’m being honest, it took a lot of time and tears before he could fully get it out. 

“Ethan. Why so many roses? I mean, you could’ve just gotten me one and it would have been okay.” You ask, looking at the plentiful amount of roses that were still seated at the table they had been when you got them. 

“27 roses for every day I missed.” Ethan says, hugging you again and kissing your forehead. You smiled and pulled away. 

“I love you, doofus.” 

Ethan grinned and laughed, “I love you too, y/n. And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll be right with you when you’re outta this place.”

[littlelovelymemes]

✰ * º ❛   friends sentence starters   ❜

‘  *reading obituaries* suddenly i wish i was reading my own name.  ’ ‘  you don’t even have oven mitts on!  ’ ‘  wow. i could so easily freak out right now.  ’ ‘  do you think it’s easy for me to see you with somebody else?  ’ ‘  hey, you remembered to put clothes on this morning.  ’ ‘  no more falafel for you!  ’ ‘  we were on a break!!  ’ ‘  you’re such a tattletale.  ’ ‘  i love you goddesses!  ’ ‘  everyone i know is either getting married or getting pregnant or getting promoted and I’m getting coffee. And it’s not even for me!  ’ ‘  it’s   ’ ‘  this is all a moo point. yeah, it’s like a cow’s opinion, it doesn’t matter. it’s moo.  ’ ‘  so, the ebola virus. that’s gotta suck, huh?  ’ ‘  my gynecologist tried to kill me.  ’ ‘  you can’t tell, but i’m trying to break the tension by mooning you guys.  ’ ‘  boy, you are not a morning person.  ’ ‘  yeah, well, i’m a slut.  ’ ‘  how you doin’?  ’ ‘  i am warm... for your form.  ’ ‘  i’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.  ’ ‘  are you saying that you don’t wanna get with this?  ’ ‘  hey, you’re a pathetic loser, right?  ’ ‘  sometimes i wish i was a lesbian... did i say that out loud?  ’ ‘  if i were a guy and... did i just say, ‘if i were a guy’?  ’ ‘  i guess things were just going to well for me!  ’ ‘  i don’t have a plan. i don’t even have a ‘pla.’  ’ ‘  he’s so pretty i want to cry!  ’ ‘  prepare to feel very bad about yourself.  ’ ‘  i’m sorry that’s who i am. i’m a positive person.  ’ ‘  no, i’m a positive person. you are like santa clause on prozac at disneyland, getting laid.  ’ ‘  i’m hopeless and awkward and desperate for love!  ’ ‘  she was nice. i mean, she’s a little slutty, but who isn’t?  ’ ‘  honey, this is not your fault. just because you guys had a fight, it does not justify them sleeping with someone else.  ’ ‘  from now on, i am not getting out of this chair, ever. okay? from now on, this chair is the one.  ’ ‘  i wish i could, but i don’t want to.  ’ ‘  alright, i took the quiz and, it turns out, i do put career before men.  ’ ‘  look at him, he’s so cute. i just wanna go over there, grab him, and kiss him!  ’ ‘  i think, if it was a little colder in there, i could see your nipples through that sweater.  ’ ‘  what’s wrong with me... oh, don’t open that door.  ’ ‘  let me think, let me think... oh, i don’t care!  ’ ‘  i have no idea what’s going on, but i’m excited!  ’ ‘  i tend to keep talking until somebody stops me.  ’ ‘  when i first meet somebody, it’s usually panic, anxiety, and a great deal of sweating.  ’ ‘  are we greeting each other this way now? because i like it.  ’ ‘  it looks like you fell asleep with a hanger in your mouth.  ’ ‘  you wanna play twister?  ’ ‘  once, i got dumped during sex.  ’ ‘  here we are, with our future before us, and i only want to spend it with you.  ’ ‘  welcome to the real world. it sucks. you’re gonna love it!  ’ ‘  hey, you cry every time somebody talks about the titanic.  ’ ‘  if worst comes to worst, i’ll be your boyfriend.  ’ ‘  who loses 57 coin tosses in a row? you know? heads, she wins. tails, i lose.  ’ ‘  shut up! shut up! SHUT UP!  ’ ‘  i’m so glad we’re having this rehearsal dinner, you know? it’s so rare that i get to practice my meals before eating them.  ’ ‘  you always believed in me, even when i didn’t believe in myself.  ’ ‘  you’re fake laughing too, right?  ’ ‘  it’s sunday morning, i am not running on a sunday.  ’ ‘  ugh, dammit. why did i open my mouth?  ’ ‘  wow, we really are bitches.  ’ ‘  so why don’t you be a grown up and come and watch some tv in the fort!  ’ ‘  i don’t know what i’m gonna do with my life.  ’ ‘  i’m full, and yet i know if i stop eating this, i’ll regret it.  ’ ‘  kill me. kill me now.  ’ ‘  i want to sit in a comfortable chair, watch television, and go to sleep at a reasonable hour!  ’ ‘  what must it be like to not be crippled by fear and self-loathing?  ’ ‘  a stripper at a bachelor party, that is so cliché. why don’t you guys get a magician?!  ’ ‘  i’m curvy and i like it!  ’ ‘  i don’t share food!  ’ ‘  if i have to, i’d pee on any one of you.  ’ ‘  the fridge broke so i had to eat everything.  ’ ‘  you can’t have s-e-x when you’re taking care of the b-a-b-i-e!  ’ ‘  you’re over me? when were you... under me?  ’ ‘  these are just feelings. they’ll go away.  ’ ‘  i used to think of you as somebody that would never, ever hurt me.  ’ ‘  i mean, sure, i have my bad days, but then i remember what a cute smile i have.  ’ ‘  offering people gum is not cooking.  ’ ‘  i bought him a $500 watch and he wrote me a rap song.  ’ ‘  you know you should go outside and be with the three-dimensional people.   ’ ‘  no, inside good. outside baaaaad.  ’ ‘  they’re always saying ‘let’s go here, let’s go there.’ like we can afford to go here and there.  ’ ‘  i hate my job. i hate it. oh, i want to quit, but then i think i should stick it out.  ’ ‘  you think i have $1200? i’m home in the middle of the day and i got patio furniture in my living room.  ’ ‘  neat! i’m gonna die alone!  ’ ‘  okay, could you just stop talking for a second?  ’ ‘  i’ve sort of had feelings for you.  ’ ‘  today, it’s like there’s rock bottom, fifty feet of crap, then me.  ’ ‘  why am i friends with these people?  ’ ‘  i eat by myself in the alley because everyone hates me.  ’ ‘  i’m a lone wolf. a loner. alone. all alone. forever.  ’ ‘  my life is an embarrassment! i should just go live under somebody’s stairs.  ’ ‘  if i died, the only way people would know that i was here would be the ass print on this chair!  ’ ‘  i always thought if you and i got married, that would be the one that stuck.  ’ ‘  hi, i make jokes when i’m uncomfortable.  ’ ‘  i am not ‘blah’, i am a hoot!  ’ ‘  i just realized i can sleep with my eyes open.  ’ ‘  up until i was 25, i thought that the only response to ‘i love you’ was ‘oh, crap!’  ’ ‘  if the homo sapiens, were in fact ‘homo’ sapiens, is that why they’re extinct?  ’ ‘  do you think i need a new walk?  ’ ‘  you don’t own a tv? what’s all your furniture pointed at?  ’ ‘  just think of it like this: the third day. monday, one day. tuesday, two day. wednesday... when? huh? what day? thursday! the third day!  ’ ‘  eye-contact? i hope you were using protection!  ’ ‘  you were right, and from now on, yo make all my decisions for me.  ’ ‘  you said your boss wants to buy your baby?  ’ ‘  why god, why?!! we had a deal!! let the others grow old! not me!!  ’ ‘  last night i was finishing off a pizza and she said, ‘a moment on the lips, forever on the hips!’ i don’t need that kind of talk in my house!  ’ ‘  you’re druuuuunk. mom and dad are gonna be maaaad! ...maybe i’m a little drunk.  ’ ‘  let her know i like her? are you insane?  ’ ‘  what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me?  ’ ‘  isn’t that just kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic?  ’ ‘  you’re crying over a doritos commercial.  ’ ‘  that fake british woman is a real bitch, but she sure can dance.  ’ ‘  i think it’d be better for my ego if we didn’t stand right next to each other.  ’ ‘  seriously... good luck on marrying me.  ’ ‘  there is no ‘us’, okay?  ’ ‘  i fell for you and i get clobbered. you then fall for me and i again, somehow, get clobbered.  ’ ‘  it’s just not worth it.  ’ ‘  we are never gonna happen, okay? accept that.  ’ ‘  you know what? you’re the one who ended it.  ’ ‘  i ended it because i was mad at you. not because i stopped loving you.  ’ ‘  imagine the worst things you think about yourself. now, how would you feel if the one person you trusted the most in the world not only thinks them too, but actually uses them as reasons not to be with you.  ’ ‘  you were worth the wait.  ’ ‘  that’s our baby.  ’ ‘  you deserve to be with someone who appreciates and who gets how funny and sweet and amazing and adorable and sexy you are.  ’

[go-redgirl]

Nolte: Here Are 11 of Joe Biden’s Biggest Debate Lies

President Trump trounced Joe Biden during their final debate Thursday night in Tennessee. It wasn’t even close. Biden was looking at his watch because he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the ring (I’m also told the debate took place in the middle of a Matlock marathon.) I was looking at my watch because I didn’t want it to end.

A quick word on the muting the microphones…

You put boundaries around a filmmaker like Michael Cimino, you get classics like Thunderbolt and Lightfoot and the Deer Hunter. You take away those boundaries, you get Heaven’s Gate.

You put boundaries around a Dennis Hopper, you get a classic like Easy Rider. You take away those boundaries, you get a disaster like The Last Movie.

Trump is an artist. He needs boundaries. Threatening to mute his microphone helped him and hurt Biden. It hurt Biden because interrupting (something he did a half dozen times in the first debate before Trump ever interrupted him) is the only debate tactic Biden has. Go back and watch his 2012 vice presidential debate with Paul Ryan.

Trump doesn’t  need to interrupt to win a debate. He’s a gifted debater. The threat to mute the microphones took away Biden’s only go-to move and  forced Trump to win on substance and facts.

One more observation before we get to China Joe’s lies.

Last night, Trump was forced to defend his record, to explain it… And because he has a very good record as president, he was able to.

Because Joe Biden has a terrible record, he was forced to lie… To tell 11 bald-faced whoppers, and here they are… All of Biden’s quotes below come directly from last night’s debate. [emphasis mine throughout]  

1. No One Lost Their Insurance Under ObamaCare

BIDEN:  “That’s why I did not — not one single person, private insurance, would lose their insurance under my plan, nor did they under Obamacare. They did not lose their insurance, unless they chose they wanted to go to something else.”

FACT: Up to six million people lost their private health insurance plan after Obamacare became the law of the land, and the reason people lost their private health insurance is the most immoral things about Obamacare… Obamacare outlawed — actually made it illegal, for private insurance to offer private plans that did not live up to Obamacare’s lofty and ridiculous standards. Essentially, Obamacare demands we all, each and every one of us, pay for Cadillac plans that include all kinds of things we don’t need. So if, for instance, you had a reasonably priced catastrophic  plan with a high deductible — and these are perfect plans for the healthy — Obamacare outlawed them.

So many people lost their private plans that even the Obama-loving media were forced to declare Obama’s promise that “no one would lose their insurance or doctor” the Lie of the Year.

2. America was Cozy with Hitler

BIDEN: “We had a good relationship with Hitler before he in fact invaded Europe, the rest of Europe.”

FACT: This is such a ludicrous lie it’s hardly worth debunking. Franklin Roosevelt was president during Hitler’s rise. Roosevelt became president in 1932. Hitler became Germany’s chancellor in 1934. The president has sole authority over foreign policy, and at no time was Roosevelt fooled by Hitler. He certainly tried to stop and stay out of the European war, but Hitler’s aggression towards our allies and Hitler’s own hatred of America… This is such a stupid lie.

The reason Biden told this lie is what’s most illuminating. Biden is embarrassed that Trump has been able to do something Obama and Biden could not… Get North Korea to stop rattling its war sabers and firing off missiles.

Before Trump took office, North Korea (like ISIS) was on everyone’s mind. Thanks to Trump’s handling of North Korea (and ISIS), we hardly think about it anymore.

3. I Never Opposed Fracking

BIDEN:  “I have never said I oppose fracking.”

FACT: Biden spent the entire primary opposing fracking. There’s a ton of video of it. Here’s a taste:  

4. I Didn’t Oppose Trump’s China Travel Ban

BIDEN: “I talked about his xenophobia in a different context. It wasn’t about closing the border to Chinese coming to the United States.”

FACT: Here are Biden’s own tweets attacking the China travel ban as xenophobic:  We are in the midst of a crisis with the coronavirus. We need to lead the way with science — not Donald Trump’s record of hysteria, xenophobia, and fear-mongering. He is the worst possible person to lead our country through a global health emergency. 5:01 PM · Feb 1, 2020

See new TweetsTweet

Joe Biden@JoeBiden·Mar 18Stop the xenophobic fear-mongering. Be honest. Take responsibility. Do your job.

Stop the xenophobic fear-mongering. Be honest. Take responsibility. Do your job.3:35 PM · Mar 18, 2020105.3K

I always treated the Chinese Virus very seriously, and have done a very good job from the beginning, including my very early decision to close the “borders” from China - against the wishes of almost all. Many lives were saved. The Fake News new narrative is disgraceful & false!

5. Illegal Aliens Show Up For Asylum Hearings After Being Caught and Released

BIDEN: “The catch and release, you know what he’s talking about there? If in fact, you had family, came across, they’re arrested. They, in fact, were given a date to show up for their hearing. They were released. And guess what, they showed up for the hearing. ”

FACT: Catch and release is America’s gobsmackingly stupid policy of catching illegal aliens in our country and then releasing them back into our country with a notice to show up for an asylum hearing. 

Yes, we release illegals into our own country after we have caught them. These illegals have already broken the law, but we still release them and tell them to come to a court proceeding, which they will almost certainly lose, which means they will be deported. In other words, they have no incentive to show up.

Through a number of maneuvers I don’t want to get bogged down in here, Trump has made amazing strides in putting an end to catch and release. Biden would reinstate it, and in order to justify it, he’s falsely claiming illegals dutifully show up for their asylum hearings. 

Well, they don’t. Close to 90 percent do not.What’s more, it only makes sense that they don’t. 

Why would they? If they were legitimate asylum seekers, they would have asked for asylum in a legal fashion. These are illegals who snuck in and only ask for asylum after they’re caught.Raising the Minimum Wage Does Not Hurt Anyone

BIDEN: “There is no evidence that when you raise the minimum wage, business has gone out of business. That is simply not true.”FACT: 

Biden wants to more than double the federal minimum wage to $15 an hour, another disastrous one-size-fits-all idea. And now he’s claiming that forcing companies to double payroll expenses (this also increases taxes paid by employers) won’t hurt businesses. 

He further claims it never has.The idea that mandating a raise in the minimum wage hurts businesses and workers is not even controversial. Everyone knows it does.

What Trump said is exactly right. This should be left to the states. A $15  minimum wage might make sense in blue states with their unnecessarily high cost of living, but South Dakota and Alabama sure don’t need it.No One Brought Up Biden’s Troubling Ukraine Conflicts of Interest During ImpeachmentBIDEN: “Nothing was unethical. 

Here’s what the deal, with regard to Ukraine, we had this whole question about whether or not because he was on the board. I later learned of Burisma, a company that somehow, I had done something wrong. 

Yet, every single, solitary person when he was going through his impeachment testifying under oath who worked for him said I did my job impeccably. I carried out U.S. policy. 

Not one single solitary thing was out of line. Not a single thing. Number one.

”FACT: Again, we have the video tape proving this is a lie. 

A whole lot of people involved with impeachment were concerned with Hunter Biden looting Ukraine while his dad, the vice president, was the Obama administration’s point person there.

Trump Never Told Putin to Stop Meddling in American Elections

BIDEN: “And to the best of my knowledge, I don’t think the President said anything to Putin about [election meddling].

”FACT: Oh, isn’t China Joe, whose family received $3.5 million from the former mayor of Moscow, precious when he says to the “best of my knowledge.

” He knows damn well Trump has told Putin to butt out — plenty of times.

Hunter’s Emails are Part of a “Russian Plan”BIDEN: 

“Look, there are 50 former National Intelligence folks who said that what this, he’s accusing me of is a Russian plan. 

They have said that this has all the characteristics– four– five former heads of the CIA, both parties, say what he’s saying is a bunch of garbage.

”FACT: The evidence that the Hunter Biden  emails exposing Joe Biden as the head of a crime family trading off his role as vice president to get rich continue to be verified — and done so on-the-record, including pollster Frank Luntz.

FACT: Because he’s old and growing senile, Biden garbled this with a double negative, but Biden is claiming Trump refused to take any responsibility for the coronavirus, when the only thing Trump claimed he was not responsible for was the early testing failures, and Trump was in no way responsible for the early testing failures. Trump was VERY specific on this point.

Trump Has Alienated ‘All’ Our Allies BIDEN:  “[H]e pokes his finger in the eye of all our friends, all of our allies.

”FACT: What in the world is Biden even talking about here? Our relationship with Israel has never been better. 

He’s convinced Mexico and other countries to make great strides in slowing down illegal immigration. Peace is breaking out all over the Middle East. I could go on and on…

READ MORE STORIES ABOUT:

2020 Election Politics debate Donald Trump Fact Check Joe Biden John Nolte

_____________________________________________

OPINION:  Have anyone ever known a Democrat not to lie, cheat, still point a finger at the innocence to say their own family or themselves.  

Heck, we believe the Democrats invented lies in this country 😂🤣🤣 

If the didn’t they wouldn’t be able to survive in their crooked, deceptive lying world that their ‘brains’ live in.  

[loki-parker]

Safe Inside

Hi, and welcome to my new imagines blog! This is my very first imagine on here, so I decided to start of with something a little deeper, but not all of them will be like this, I promise! Feel free to request and enjoy!

-H

Pairing: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Words: 1,848

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, very sad (I actually cried while writing this) mentions of death

Song: Safe Inside by James Arthur

I remember when you were all mine Watched you changing in front of my eyes What can I say?

The day you were born was the best day of Tony’s life. You were his little girl, all he had, and after your mother abandoned the two of you, he was all you had, too.

To him, you were perfect. The way your (y/e/c) eyes twinkled when you laughed made his heart melt completely. You were his everything.

As a child, you were barely ever separate from your father. You held onto him like your life depended on it, but he didn't mind, because to him, his life did.

To say you were spoiled as a child is an  understatement. Tony always kept you up-to-date with the newest and best toys and bought you whatever you wanted.

He wished that you could stay a child forever, a time where you would always be dependant on him and would never think about leaving him.

Unfortunately, you had to grow up at some point.

Now that I'm not the fire in the cold Now that I'm not the hand that you hold As you're walking away.

When you reached your teens, you grew more independent. You began to spend more time with your friends and less with your father. Your attitude changed drastically from being so bubbly to growing more mature.

Maturity and spending time with your friends wasn’t what scared Tony. It was when you began to look at boys in ways more than friendly.

The first boy you ever had a crush on was named Carl. You were head-over-heels for him, and everyone knew that.

As a fourteen-year-old girl, you were very naïve.

In your eyes, Carl was perfect. The way his light hair was well styled to the way he laughed made your heart flutter. He was so kind to you. He told you exactly what you wanted to hear.

You knew Carl for three months before he asked you to be his girlfriend. You, obviously a bit starstruck, jumped at the chance and agreed.

The night of your first date, you dressed yourself up as nice as you could for when Carl came to pick you up.

Tony didn't want you to go, but he didn't tell you that. He had a bad feeling about that night, and he was right to.

Carl wasn't only your first boyfriend, he was also your first heartbreak.

Will you call me to tell me you're alright? 'Cause I worry about you the whole night Don't repeat my mistakes, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside.                        

If you're home I just hope that you're sober Is it time to let go now you're older? Don't leave me this way, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside.

Will you call me to tell me you're alright? 'Cause I worry about you the whole night Don't repeat my mistakes, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside.

Tony didn't get much sleep that night.

“I want you home by eleven, no later,” he’d told you before you left.

“Okay, dad,” you rolled your eyes, “I will be.”

But there he sat, on the couch at one-thirty in the morning with Pepper, waiting for you.

“Where is she?” He’d asked multiple times.

Finally, at five minutes ‘til two, you wandered through the door.

You closed the door quietly, as if trying not to wake anyone up, and jumped when your father’s voice pierced your ears.

“Where have you been?” His voice was sharp. “You’re almost three hours past curfew!”

He turned to face him, but didn't meet his gaze. Tony immediately regretted being so strict upon your arrival.

Your cheeks were red and tears stained as salty drops leaked from your glossy eyes.

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammered, fighting to contain your sobs.

“Oh, sweetie,” Pepper consoled, “what happened?”

Tony wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and guiding you to the couch.

You leaned against him as you curled up on the couch, finally letting yourself break down. Pepper slowly rubbed her hand up and down your back.

“(Y/n), what happened?” Pepper asked again.

You sniffled, “Well, h-his brother drove us to the movies. We were alone, and he was being nice all night, but then he tried to get me to do-” you paused, “stuff with him.”

Pepper and Tony shared a glance.

“Why were you so late?” Tony ran his fingers through your hair comfortingly.

“H-he said that if I wouldn't do stuff with him than he didn't want to date me, then he left,” You explained.

“How did you get home?” Pepper questioned.

You looked down at your newly-dirtied shoes, “I walked.”

Tony looked at you, “(Y/n), that's more than five miles, why didn't you call? We were worried sick!”

You began to cry again, “I-I thought that y-you would be asleep so I didn't want to b-bother you.”

Your father smiled sadly at you, “(Y/n), you know that I wouldn’t- no, I couldn't sleep until I know you are okay.”

Everyone has to find their own way And I'm sure things will work out okay I wish that was the truth.

After that, you went through a bit of a dark patch.

You pushed some of your friends away and your relationship with Tony became tense.

Tony could tell there was something wrong. You barely went out, your grades were dropping, and he'd even gotten calls from your teachers about you skipping class.

It didn't take him long to figure out what was going on.

Not only were you heartbroken, you were bullied.

All we know is the sun will rise Thank your lucky stars that you're alive It's a beautiful life.

Tony sat you down after finding out. The talk he gave you was awkward, and as much as you tried to convince him that he was wrong, you knew your words were lies.

“(Y/n), I need you to tell me how you're feeling so I can help you,” Tony begged you.

You looked up at him with dark eyes.

“Have you ever thoughts about what it would be like without me?” You asked him.

He was taken aback, “(Y/n), where is this coming from?”

“That's what the kids at school say, that it would be better without me.”

“Has anyone ever hurt you?”

“No,” you paused, “but I’ve thought about hurting myself.”

He was shocked, he couldn't believe that life had gotten this bad for you.

“Have you ever thought about-” he gulped, “killing yourself?”

You looked down and didn't answer, but Tony could tell from your silence.

“Oh, honey,” he pulled you into a hug, holding you close as you began to cry.

“You don't ever have to think like that ever again,” he told you, “What do we have to do to make it better?”

You looked him in the eye and smiled.

“Well, a fresh start would be nice.”

You never returned to that school. You took a week off before transferring to a new school in a different part of the city.

On your fifteenth birthday, Tony finally began to notice a difference in you when you requested to spend the day with him, which he gladly agreed to.

He could tell you were better. You made new friends and began going out more again.

As long as you were happy, he was happy, but he was rather surprised when you arrived home one day holding hands with a boy, who you claimed was your boyfriend.

His name was Peter.

Oh, will you call me to tell me you're alright? 'Cause I worry about you the whole night Don't repeat my mistakes, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside.

If you're home I just hope that you're sober Is it time to let go now you're older? Don't leave me this way, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside.

Tony hadn't expected it to last, but he was wrong, and was quite glad.

Although he didn't like how Peter dragged you further into danger, he could see how much you loved each other. Especially that day when he walked you down the aisle to meet him in that beautiful white gown you wore.

The ceremony was beautiful, but it wasn't quite until you skipped down the aisle as a married woman that he realized that you were no longer his little girl. He had handed you off to another and you would be gone off with the rest of your life.

When the father-daughter dance came around, he found himself barely containing himself as you held onto him.

The song began, and he found himself finally breaking down. He dropped his head onto your shoulder as he sobbed and you rubbed his back and swayed to the song.

The sight brought tears to everyone’s eyes as they watched the bride and her father hold each other and cry in the middle of the floor.

This was the best day of your life, and the worst of his.

If you make the same mistakes, I will love you either way All I know is I can't live without you There is nothing I can say that will change you anyway Darling, I could never live without you I can't live, I can't live, no, no.

You and Peter had three children, two boys and a girl. You named them Ben, Howard, and Maev.

These days were all great for Tony, but none of them stood out to him like the day you were born.

Tony saw his grandchildren lots as you visited regularly and called everyday that you didn't.

You found yourself visiting more and more as Tony’s hair grew white. He was tired, you could tell. Your father was old.

Tony spent his last few days with your family in the city.

That day was good for Tony. He spent his day sitting on the porch with you as you watched Peter play soccer on the lawn with your children. He went in his sleep, but the last thing that went through his head were your last words to him.

“Goodnight, Dad, I love you,” you’d told him as you tucked him into his bed and kissed his cheek.

Oh, will you call me to tell me you're alright? 'Cause I worry about you the whole night Don't make my mistakes, I won't sleep, I won't sleep.

If you're home I just hope that you're sober Is it time to let go now you're older? Don't leave me this way, I won't sleep 'til you're safe inside.

Tony’s funeral was held on a sunny Thursday afternoon.

The church was packed, your family, some old friends of his, those who were left of the Avengers, and some fans of his.

Tony lived many good days, but none of them stood out to him like the day you were born, and none of them stood out to you like the day he died.

Will you call me to tell me you're alright 'Cause I worry about you.

[a-dreamer-named-mars]

Imagine Jamie and Danny Fighting For You (Part 1)

Requested by emmasfood on Wattpad. Check out more imagines and fanfictions here. 

- - - - - - - - - -

"Y/N, whenever you have the time, please stop by my office to set up a time and a date for this week. We're going to Rikers, remember?"

"For the Walker case. Yes, of course. I just need to finish this report  real quick and I'll be there!"

Erin Reagan turned in her heels and walked back to her own fancy office after flashing you a smile and you got back to work. Work - that magical word that makes you get up out of bed everyday. You were a worker kind of person, you brought your work home with you, you couldn't just leave it at the desk. You graduated from Law School being the top of your class - Class Of 2012 - and were currently working for the district attorney's office, alongside with Erin. You had a major age gap between the two but you got along very well since the beginning and she did help you a  lot when you first came there and you loved that you were working with her, since you studied some of her most important cases back in college. And she loved that your worked there with her, she's always said that younger people are needed but she's never found anyone who resembles her that much. And so, you two eventually became pretty close.

Working with Erin in some of her cases, has lead you to, fortunately or not, meet her two brothers - Jamie and Danny. She had told you about Joe before and basically she'd told you all about her life and about the two Reagan boys who had kept an eye on you for a while now. You were flattered, really, but... sometimes they could be very annoying. Plus you weren't very interested in starting a relationship with anyone at the moment. Your last boyfriend broke your heart and you got very hurt and boyfriends were the last thing on your mind right now.

"Here I am." You announced, walking inside Erin's office after knocking and before closing the door behind you.

"Great! Okay, so I was thinking maybe we should go there on Friday morning, maybe grab lunch on the way, what do you think?" She asked taking off her glasses and putting them down at her desk.

"Sounds good! I should be done with these reports I have to finish by Thursday, so it's perfect timing."

"Good." She paused to look at you and quickly picked up on the conversation. "Enough about work... have you heard from any of my brothers?" She asked with a knowing smile.

"Oh... With all due respect, Erin - they're a pain! They're very nice and polite and they do know how to make a girl swoon but, I'm just not there right now." You confessed, leaning back as you sat down at the chair in front of her desk.

"They can be very persuasive, yeah... But they did have two great examples so, who can blame them?"

You laughed it off but she didn't give up and continued. She was clearly the person who was enjoying this competition between her brothers the most.

"But you shouldn't give up on love just yet, Y/N."

"I'm not!" You contested in return. "I just... I think it's too soon for me to get envolved in a relationship right now, I'm just not there yet."

"Y/N, you're so young! Now's the time! It's not gonna be when you're over forty like me that you're gonna go on dates every night and find the person who you want to spend the rest of your life with."

"Maybe I'm not meant to find that person. Maybe I'm gonna be a cat lady forever."

"Oh, come on! You don't even have a cat!" She responded with a laugh.

"I could get one!"

At this point the two of you were already laughing non-stop, you talking about the multiple possibilites of being a loner forever and she finding you different futures for you with different men. The choices she presented were hilarious, and, to be honest, so were yours but... you're guess was that that was what your future was gonna be like.

* * *

Later that day, you said goodbye to your best friend Erin before leaving the office and hopped on your car and drove to your small, yet big enough, apartment in Cobble Hill.

As you were walking inside your house, you heard your phone ringing and picked it up quickly, not even looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Y/N, hi!" You recognized the voice.

"Jamie... hi. What's up?"

"Oh, umm... nothing much, just cooking dinner." How smooth and subtle of him.

"That's great." You commented as you let your purse fall down on the couch and you switched your phone from one hand to the other that was now free and rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"If you don't have anything ready to eat you could always drive by my apartment and grab a bite with me. You know I'd love the company."

"Oh, thanks Jamie, really. But I, umm... I have plans tonight so, no can do." You lied, hoping he'd give up now.

"Oh, you do? Okay, well then we'll just rain check." You could hear the disapointment in his voice and it made you sad, you never liked to disapoint people let alone someone who's been doing so much for you despite you telling him no everytime.

"Right. Thank you for the invitation again."

"You're welcome, have fun!"

"Thanks."

You hung up and dropped the phone on the couch, falling right next to the bag. You took of your coat and your heels, and dropped on the couch as well, picking up the laptop that was on the coffee table. You checked your e-mails and your Facebook and decided to search a good movie on Netflix to watch.

Before the movie started you went to the fridge to get some leftovers from the other day and heated them up, taking them to the couch with you and there you stayed, eating your dinner on the couch while watching a movie. And you liked it, really. You were a very homey type of girl so, this was actually the perfect night for you.

Until a buzz interrupted it.

You grabbed the phone that was still lying next to you and checked the new message you had received. It was from Danny.

"Hey Y/N , whatcha doing? Linda decided she should have the kids this whole week so it's just me tonight. Wanna grab a drink?"

Oh right. You almost forgot! When you first met Danny he did flirt with you a lot, but you never thought he was serious about it because he was still in the process of getting divorced. Apparently he and Linda weren't working out anymore and so both of them decided that the best thing to do was to get a divorce. And he was taken down by it at first, so you never thought he'd actually continue to ask you out after all this time. It's been almost a year... Time for him to quit, right? But he didn't and worse of all, a couple months later after you met him, you met Jamie and he started flirting with you too. So now, you had two Reagan men chasing you and you weren't interested in neither on of them. At least not at the moment.

You groaned while rolling back your eyes and glued them to the screen after, quickly texting him back.

"Sorry, I'm kinda busy tonight. Have fun!"

You tossed the phone to the couch again and continued watching the movie.

* * *

Soon came Friday and you were ready for the little roadtrip you and Erin were about to go on. That meant time alone with her so you could talk about whatever you wanted, which was something that you quite loved to do but never had the chance at the office because privacy was something that lacked in there.

You took your car and picked her up at her apartment and by 10 A.M. , you were already riding.

"So, have you got plans this weekend?" She asked before nudging you on your right arm.

"Nah, I'll probably just stay in."

"Again?!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, taking your eyes off the road to look at her, seeing her laughing.

"It means that this is probably the tenth time I'm asking you if you have plans for the weekend and you're telling me you're staying in"

"What? I like to read, I like to watch the football game, I like to watch a movie or a TV show once in a while..." You answered, justifying yourself for your choices.

"You know who's fifty years older than you and still goes out during weekends? My grandfather!"

"Well, I'm just... different, okay? What's so wrong with that?"

"There is nothing wrong with it." She was saying, now in all honesty. "I just think that maybe you're wasting your youth."

"No, I am not."

"I think you are."

Silence filled the car, but not too long later she was talking again, coming up with a plan.

"I have an idea! This weekend you do have plans." She announced, and noticing the frown in your face she begin the explanation. "You're coming to Sunday dinner with me."

You drifted your eyes from the road again to look at her in shock when you heard her master arrangement.

"No way! You want me to go have dinner with your family, which happens to include the two guys that have been chasing me non-stop for this whole time? There's no way!"

"Come on, Y/N, it's gonna be so funny!"

"For you!" You replied back.

"And for you too! You're gonna meet my daughter and she's eager to meet you and you're gonna meet my father and grandfather - maybe you could learn something from him?" She mocked you as she chuckled at her own words.

"And I'm gonna eat with the two men who've been fighting over me!"

"Oh, you don't have anything to worry about. They're not gonna try anything with Dad and Pop being there, trust me."

"I don't know if I should believe you." You said, now slightly considering actually going.

"Of course you should! Plus, I'm kinda your boss, you should do what I say." Erin joked, earning a laugh from you.

You didn't made your decision right there and told her you'd think about it during the next day, letting her know then if you'd be there or not.

* * *

It was now nearly 5 P.M. and you had just gotten yourself all dressed up and ready to join Erin's family for dinner. You grabbed your bag and your coat and walked out the door, having still a long drive with all this traffic, to Bay Ridge.

After the thirty minutes you spent on the road listening to music to try and relax and making your way through traffic, you finally got to the Reagan house. You saw Erin's car and parked yours next to hers and walked up to the door, ringing the bell before taking a deep breath.

"Oh, here's Y/N!" Henry said with a smile when he opened the door to see you.

You smiled at him back and were just about to greet the oldest Reagan when the busy movement behind him distracted you, not being able to fake your expression of shock when you saw that the brothers were trying to outrun each other to try and be the first to greet you at the door.

"I got here first!" Danny said, pushing Jamie behind him.

Henry turned around and told their grandsons off, telling that was not the way to treat a lady. And it truly wasn't, specially you.

After finally getting the chance to say hi to him, you walked inside the house and took off your coat before thanking Henry for putting it in the wrack.

You turned around and there were Jamie and Danny standing next to each other, each one holding a flower bouquet that you assumed it was for you.

"Hi, boys." You said smiling at them, quickly walking past them to the living room where you could aready hear your best friend talking.

"Wait." Danny said as he moved in front of you and stopped you in your tracks. "These are for you." He handed you the flowers.

"Oh, umm... thanks." You said as you took them and smiled back.

Sometimes you really thought Erin wasn't only your best friend, it was almost like she was your twin sister, like really blood related, because she could, some of the times, actually read your thoughts. And that's what was happening now, when she called Danny to meet her in the living room. Or maybe she knew her brothers all too well and knew that they were probably making you in an awkward position right now, and decided to help you out.

"These are for you, too." Jamie announced with a sad expression and a note of dissapointment in his voice.

"Thanks." You replied shyly as you took the bouquet of red roses from him. Those were actually your favorites.

Out of two of them, if it was an actual competition, Jamie was winning by far. He was sweet, he was caring, he was way cuter and he respected you a little more. He wasn't as pushy as his older brother. Plus you were also closer in age with him than with Danny so therefore, you two had many more things in common, which also made your conversition with him flow more.

You went to the kitchen and poured water in the two glasses you grabbed from the cabinet and put the flowers inside.

When you were done, you walked to the living room to greet everyone else there and not to long after you sat down on the couch, dinner was ready and you moved to the table sitting down in between Erin and her father.

Dinner was going smoothly until Danny decided to crack some jokes that were justice related to try and get your attention but he didn't succeed and it only made a fight start between Erin and him. Then, he decided to start with the other jokes - the inappropriate jokes.

Needless to say that those didn't allow him to succeed either.

"Y/N , hasn't anyone told you you look pretty good after what you experienced?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, naively not understanding what he meant when he said that.

"You know... falling from heaven. Anyone else would've looked like crap but you... you look beautiful. Smoking hot."

Every single person at the table, except for Jamie and you, started laughing. They found this funny. They found this whole joking thing funny.

You were absolutely going to kill Erin tomorrow at work.

You didn't reply and kept eating, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone who was sitting at the table, feeling embarrassed enough.

Then suddenly out of the blue, Jamie started mouthing off, which should be dudley noted, you were so not expecting.

"Maybe you should start trying to find some better jokes. Have you thought that was probably the reason why Linda left? She was probably enough of you're dirty talk to her or to every other girl you stumbled on."

"Have you thought maybe the reason you're still alone after Syndey dumped you is because your lack of action around women. Try and learn something from your brother here."

"Hey, let's keep it civil." Frank advised as he took a sip of his wine.

"I have nothing to learn from you, if I wanna get a girlfriend and keep her around I should do the opposite of that."

"Because that worked out wonderfully with your ex-fiancé."

"What happened between me and her is none of your damn business!" Jamie answered, and you could now tell he was getting a little rilled up when you looked from under your eyes at him.

"But I'm simply giving you advice. And maybe if you tried to work harder and getting that golden shield you've been chasing after for for so long, and actually got it, maybe then your love life would go better than you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That no girl is ever going to bet on you if you're still on the beat, but hey, if you can't move up the ladder-"

"What did you say, you jerk?!"

At this point things were crazier than anyone could have ever predicted.

Jamie got up from his seat, Danny got up from his, they were facing each other face to face across the table, Frank got up to try and knock some sense into them... It didn't work. They kept insulting each other, and you were probably seconds away from witnessing an actual physical fight. But they never got to it because Erin got up as well and pulled Jamie back, telling him to sit down.

"That's enough." Frank said, pulling Danny back himself. "Neither of you are sitting down. This was not the way me and your mom raised you, you are behaving like children. So now you will be treated like children and I am ordering you to leave the table. Go sit down and think about what a bad figure you've done for yourselves."

The two brothers obbeyed their father, knowing they really screwed it up this time and went to the couch, sitting down on opposite sides.

* * *

After you all ate dinner and desert, you said goodbye to everyone and grabbed your bag and your coat and walked inside the kitchen to get your flowers. When you walked inisde the room, Frank and Henry were sitting there, each drinking their own glass of scotch.

"I-I'm sorry I just came here to get the bouquets."

"Go ahead." Frank said as he closely looked at your every move, or so it seemed to.

You quickly grabbed them and turned around, apologizing for starting what you started back at the dinner table.

"It was not your fault."

"No... it is." You said. "I should have never accepted coming to dinner when I knew all too well what had been happening."

"You were just accepting an invitation from your friend. They should have behaved themselves."

You smiled in gratitute for their kindness in the middle of this whole situation and waved them a goodbye, walking out the door and getting in your car, as quick as you could, running away from that whole mess.

[ethanfanfic]

Tough Week.

Hey guys!

The Ethan Dolan and Ana Mistopolis Saga continues. This one is a little upsetting. Some dark themes, which I have experienced in a similar situation!  If every you have a request or feedback, please let me know! 

Word Count: 1320

Synopsis: Ana gets some devastating news from home and decides to keep it to herself. The week gets harder and Ethan starts to get worried. What happens when the truth comes out?

It was a tough week. Possibly the worst. It was filled with exams, practice and studying. My support system of Ethan, Grayson and Caroline were still there thank goodness. But my host parents were visiting their daughter in Chicago. I had the house to myself. Besides the dog, Charlie. Sounds pretty good right? So why was it so bad? Back home, in Australia, my auntie was sick. Stomach cancer. And she was on her way out. Mum called me to let me know on Thursday after my last exam. Thank god Ethan, Grayson and Caroline all had their last exam on Friday. I just wanted to keep this to myself. But at practice on Friday, I may have screwed that up. I was on the last sprint giving more than my all. I finished first, smashing my personal best. Causing me to spew my cuts up from exhaustion. A lot of the other girls laughed. Caroline instantly came to my side and held my hair back.

“This is an example of dedication!” Coach Lane began. “A great example of how to purge.” Mia Porter giggled, causing a wave of sneering.

“Enough! Shower up!” Coach Lane dismissed them.

I had my hands on my knees. I was panting and sniffling. Caroline got my water and I rinsed my mouth out. “Hey, are you okay? You looked really worried whilst running, is everything all good?” Caroline asked. I didn’t know how to drop a bombshell like this. Although she’s been a good friend for a while now, I didn’t want to bring it up.

“Just determined to win.”

I went out with Ethan on Friday night. It was a great date night. So great that I forgot about everything. Until I heard an Australian accent, triggering me. I my smile faded and I slouched without even realising.

“What’s up!” He smiled at me.

I turned to him and smiled back. “The sky.”

He gave me an innocent smirk and chuckle. He wrapped one arm around me. “Seriously. You seem a little blue.”

I don’t know why I didn’t initially tell him. I guess I thought if I ignored it, it would go away.

“I’m just tired from this week. Plus, I’m on my period so I’m just off.” I lied. It killed me to, but I lied. Luckily he bought it though.

We spend the rest of the night by the beach in each other embrace before heading back to mine. When the truth all came out.

I jolted awake at exactly 03:07. I jolted enough to disturb Ethan a little. He groaned and wrapped his arms around me tighter. I waited for him to slowly start snoring again before I carefully released myself. I grabbed my phone and tip toed downstairs. Something felt off. I felt off. My chest began to tighten and it hurt to breathe. I quickly let Charlie inside and grabbed a glass of water. I sat on the couch with him and pat him. I tried to keep myself distracted. But then I got a message.

“Hey, are you up?” It was from my sister, Sila. I instantly thought of the worse case scenario. My aunt Mary was dead. I called her.

“Hey.” She sniffled.

“Sila.” I sighed.

“Ana,” she began. “I’m so sorry to tell you this over the phone. But Aunt Mary just passed a few moments ago.

I sat there shell shocked. I was frozen. A single tear rolled down my face and hit my arm to snap me back to reality. My mind switched to my cousins. Costas and Jamie weren’t much younger than me. I couldn’t imagine a life without my mum and now they were about to live it.

“Ana?” Sila whimpered.

“Sorry.” I sniffed. “Where are you?”

“At the hospital. Everyone’s here.”

“I’ll let you go. Send my love, please. Especially to dad and Costas and Jamie.”

“Of course of course.”

“Stay strong, Sila. I love you.”

“You too.”

I hung up the phone and took a few deep breaths. Put I couldn’t control myself. I started sobbing. I tried to keep quiet, I didn’t want to bother Ethan this early. Charlie ran off the couch. My sobs got more uncontrollable. I covered my mouth and continued crying.

“Ana?” I heard my name being called. Shit. I woke him.

“Hey, hey.” He said in a husky half awake voice. He opened his arms and I went into them, hysterically crying. I held onto him tight and pulled him in closer. I kept griping onto him, trying to pull him closer to me. I just needed to be held. I cried into his chest.

“What’s going on, are you hurt, do-do you need an ambulance?!” He was well and truly awake and alert at this point. I managed to shake my head. I tired to calm down.

I pulled away from him but left my arms around his neck.

“My-my-” I tried through sobs, but I struggled. I took a deep breath.

“My aunt just passed away.” I looked down and continued crying.

“Oh, Ana.” He scooped me back in and held him tighter than ever.

I kept sobbing. I couldn’t control myself at all. I stayed in his embrace sobbing for the next twenty minutes.

“Wanna talk.” Ethan said, as I pulled away.

I shook my head. I got my laptop which was on the coffee table and searched for urgent flights to Sydney. There was one in five hours.

“Anna, are you sure?” Ethan asked concerned.

I didn’t reply. I kept my eyes on the laptop.

“Ana stop. Think about it.”

“I don’t have time to think, Ethan!” I snapped. “My family is overseas, grieving and-and-and I’m here, being fucking selfish! Selfish! On exchange, living it up.” I broke down. My true emotions were now showing on how I felt. It was the ugly truth.

“Ana! You’re not being selfish! It’s not your fault!”

“I just feel like shit.” I slouched back into the couch. He mimicking my pose and pushed back. I sighed and pushed my hair up.

“It’s almost four. Sleep on it.”

“I’m sorry for snapping.” I whispered.

“I’m sorry for not noticing that you were upset.”

And with that, we went back to bed.

I woke up at nine. Ethan wasn’t there. I rolled over to find a packed suitcase. I got up and ran downstairs.

“E?” I yelled. He was downstairs, on the phone. He put his fingers on his lips and smiled. I was confused as hell.

“Thanks Lauren. You too.”

“Ethan, what’s going on?”

“That was Lauren, your visa officer. I told what happened and she’s contacting school and helping us out. You leave in six hours and returning in a week.” I stood there shell shocked. I didn’t know what to do.

“I love you.” I gushed, running into him and kissing him on the cheek.

“Call Paul and Linda. And your parents. I’ll continue packing.”

The next few hours were rushed. I called Paul and Linda and told what was happening. They were shocked and upset for me. I assured Charlie would be in safe hands with Ethan. I rung my parents and told them too. They were happy that I was coming but overcome with a great sadness obviously. Ethan drove me to the airport. Helped me through check in and walked me to the departure gate. I took his hands in mine and rested my forehead on his chin.

“I can’t thank you enough.” I sighed.

“I wish you told me earlier.” He sighed. I looked up to him and have him an eskimo kiss.

He laughed. He kissed me back.

“I got you something.” I said. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a necklace gain with my favourite ring around it. I put it around it his neck. He picked it up and smiled. I gave one last kiss and departed.

What did I do to deserve him.