#my mom had to wash my hair in the sink today bc I can’t even handle sitting in the shower surrounded by humid air and

[scandilez]

It’s so scary when ur chronic illnesses have been stable and ur baseline has been decent for a long time only for a flare to hit you and make you close to bedridden. Very humbling

[leossmoonn]

One Day at A Time

masterlist

pairing - lip gallagher x fem!reader

type - angst, fluff

note / request - “Hi, I love your Shameless imagines! And I was wondering if you could write something for Lip Gallagher x Reader having a baby and struggling with their new life ❤️” alright so i named the baby fred bc thats lip’s baby’s name already lol also you and lip live in the house that lip wanted to buy for tammy. enjoy!

summary - you and lip struggle to raise a baby and survive 

warning / includes - language, fighting, alcohol, smoking, but fluffy ending

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“Lip!” You shouted. 

Your boyfriend ran into the room frantically. “What’s wrong?” 

“I need you to get me more baby wipes. Freddy took a big shit,” you instructed. 

Lip nodded, going to the table where you kept the baby wipes. He gave you the whole packet only for you to yell at him.

“Hand me them! I have to hold Freddy down so we doesn’t roll off,” you said.

“Sorry, Jesus,” Lip muttered, handing you baby wipes each time you put your hand out. 

You successfully cleaned your baby’s bottom and but on a new, fresh diaper. You picked Freddy and went downstairs with him. You set Freddy down in his high-chair, going over to the cabinet to get Freddy’s baby food. 

“Are you um, are you going into work today?” Lip asked.

“Yeah, are you?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I am,” Lip said. 

You frowned, turning around and putting a hand on your hip. “You can’t. Someone has to watch Freddy.”

“Debbie can watch Freddy,” Lip said. 

You scoffed, “She's never here. And before you say V and Kev, they’ve already helped us enough the past few months. They’re busy with their own kids.”

“Well, I need to go into work. We need the money,” Lip said. 

“Yeah, and I need to go to work or I’m gonna get fired!” You exclaimed. You began feeding Freddy, your mood lightening a little once you saw the little guy’s face. 

“What about working tomorrow? I thought that was our schedule,” Lip asked. 

“It was, but one, I’m well overdue on maternity leave and two, my boss doesn’t care about my personal life. She doesn’t care that we are struggling to raise a child,” you explained. 

Lip opened his mouth to suggest something, but nothing came out. He looked at you helplessly. 

“Here, why don’t you work for a few hours and I’ll watch Freddy in the morning, then you come back home at lunch and I’ll go and work for the afternoon,” you said. 

Lip nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

“Alright, good,” you said. You turned your attention back to the baby, feeding him the rest of his breakfast. Meanwhile, Lip went to shower and get ready to go to work. He came downstairs, coming over to bid you and Freddy goodbye. 

“I’ll see you later. I love you,” Lip said, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead. 

Even though you were mad at him earlier, you melted into his arms immediately. You hugged him back tightly, burying your head in the crook of his neck. 

“Hm, I love you, too,” you said, breathing in his scent. 

Lip couldn’t help but smile at your actions. He pulled away after a few moments, walking over to Freddy. 

“I love you, too, buddy,” Lip cooed, kissing Freddy on the cheek, making the baby giggle. 

You smiled at the scene, enjoying seeing Lip interact with Freddy. 

“Bye,” Lip called out before leaving. 

“Bye!” You exclaimed, watching him leave. 

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the fridge. You looked at Freddy, who was clapping his hands on his high-chair table. You laughed a little.

“You’re so silly,” you said, going over to him and picking him up. 

“Do you want to go to the store with me?” You talked to Freddy, bouncing him up and down while walking across the room. 

Freddy make a little squeak and you smiled. “Yeah, I know you want go to the store with me. I’m gonna shower and get ready, you stay in the crib, okay? I’ll be out in 10 minutes,” you said, going up to the nursery and setting Freddy down  gently. 

You went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth. You went back in your room and got dressed into a pair of mom jeans, a dark-purple, buttoned-up shirt and put a grey sweater over it, taking the collar of your shirt and folding it on the collar of your sweater. You then returned to Freddy’s room. You saw him on his back, sucking in his thumb. You smiled and picked him up, quietly going down the stairs. You set him in his high-chair again, getting your coat, purse, and your shoes. You also got Freddy’s little coat and hat to keep him warm in the cold winter of Chicago. 

You went out to your car, buckling Freddy into his carseat. You then went to the supermarket, putting Freddy in the front of the cart. You picked out fruit, vegetables, and salad mix. You got 2 gallons of milk, new coffee creamer, and cereal. You bought a few warm-up dinner packs and hamburger meat, going to the freezer isle and getting ice cream. You then went to the snack isle. 

“What should we get, Freddy?” You asked, looking at the pop tarts. 

Freddy pointed to the birthday cake-flavoured pop tarts. 

“Good choice, baby,” you smiled, grabbing the pop tarts. You then grabbed a few packs of chips and gum, going over to check out.

“Cute baby,” the girl at the register said. 

You looked up from putting the groceries on the table. You looked at her name tag and smiled. 

“Thank you, Stacy,” you said. “How old is he?” Stacy asked. 

“Almost 2 months,” you said. 

“Awe, so cute. I just found out I’m pregnant,” Stacy said. 

“Oh, really. Congrats,” you smiled. “Yeah, my boyfriend and I are happy,” Stacy smiled, putting her hand on her stomach. 

She rang your groceries up. “It’ll be $103.98.”

You nodded and took your card out and a few coupons you and Lip had collected in the past month. 

“Alright, with these coupons, your total is $80.56,” Stacey said.

“Great,” you smiled. You paid with your card, gathering the grocery bags. 

“Have a good day!” Stacy smiled. 

“Thank you, you too. Congrats again with the baby,” you gave her a kind smile. 

She thanked you as you walked out. You loaded the groceries into the car and put Freddy back in his carseat. You then drove back home, putting away the groceries while Freddy watched you in his high-chair. 

“Are you tired, baby? I’m tired,” you yawned. Freddy yawned right after you, making you chuckle. 

“Why don’t you take a nap and let Mommy clean the house, okay? It’s a fucking mess,” you muttered the curse words, looking around the house. Clothes and toys were everywhere. Plates were stacked in the sink and on the coffee table. The house needed to be vacuumed and wiped down very badly

You put Freddy down in his crib, turning on the baby monitor. You changed into a tank top and shorts and put your hair in a ponytail, going back downstairs to clean. 

You started with the dishes, washing and drying them off, putting them back in their cupboards. You then wiped down the kitchen counter, stove top, kitchen table, and coffee table. Next you decided to clean up all of the baby stuff that was on the floor. You put Freddy’s toys in the play bins you and Lip had bought and put Freddy’s clothes in the washing machine. You then vacuumed the living room carpet and swept the kitchen tiles, making yourself another cup of coffee. You were done in an hour and a half, taking a look at your work, smiling in satisfaction. Your house hadn’t been this clean since you and Lip had bought it. 

It was lunch time and you knew Lip would be coming home soon. You decided to make you and him lunch. You made chilli and salad, knowing that it would last you two for a few days. You changed back into your work uniform before grabbing yourself a bowl and sitting down, eating your lunch quickly before you had to go to work. 

15 minutes later, Lip had walked through the door. You got up to greet him. 

“Hey, babe. This smells good, what did you make?” Lip asked.  “Chilli and salad for lunch. You can have some,” you said. 

“Ah, nice,” Lip said. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, going over to the kitchen.  You frowned. He usually wasn’t this detached.

“How was work?” You asked. 

“Good,” Lip said, grabbing himself a bowl of chilli. “How was your day?”

“Good,” you said. “ I um… I cleaned the house and got groceries.”

“Oh, nice,” Lip said, sitting down. 

"Are you okay?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” Lip said. 

“Um, okay,” you said. “Well, Freddy is upstairs taking a nap. He’s been asleep for about two hours, so he will probably wake up soon. The baby monitor is here. When he wakes up can you give him a bath? He’s a little stinky.”

“Sure,” Lip nodded. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out why he was acting so off. 

“I gotta go to work. I'll see you later, okay?” You said. 

“Okay. Have fun,” Lip said.

You slammed the front door shut and walked to your car, letting out a long sigh. You wanted to ask why Lip was acting so distant, but you knew you had to go to work. You worked as a waitress at a local diner. You had been working there for the past 3 years. You hoped to be moving jobs to what you really wanted to do, which was cosmetics, but having a baby set you back a little. You were so thankful for Freddy, though, you didn’t regret having him one bit. It just sucked a lot. But you were good at your job. you were friendly to customers and co-workers, got the most tips, and never played around. You were your boss’s best waitress, despite you always having to change your shifts. 

You worked from 1 pm to 9, going back home tired, but happy you at least got a shift in. You drove home, looking forward to seeing Lip and Freddy, but once you got in the door, your excitement immediately diminished. 

Freddy was in his play pen and the person who was watching him wasn’t Lip. It was Carl. 

“Um, hey, Carl,” you frowned, setting your coat in the closet. 

Carl turned to you, a nervous smile on his face. “Hey, Y/n. How’re you?”

“Good, thanks. Where is Lip?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips. 

“He went out,” Carl answered. 

“To where?” You asked, your temper rising. “Um…. to the Alibi,” Carl said nervously. 

Your eyes blew wide. “What?! He went to the Alibi and left you to take care of our baby? No offense, Carl.”

“None taken,” Carl shrugged. 

“I…” you started to say. You put your fingers on your temples, rubbing in circles to try and ease the headache you were beginning to have. You were able to calm down a little. 

“Thank you for taking care of Freddy,” you said to Carl. 

“No problem. I love the little guy,” Carl smiled. 

You smiled back, grabbing your purse. “Here, let me pay you for watching him.”

“I would usually say yes to money, but I’ll say no this time. I like spending time with Freddy, he's my nephew, I like watching him,” Carl shrugged.

“Are you sure?” You asked, holding a 20 dollar bill. 

“Yeah, I am,” Carl smiled kindly. 

“Alright. Thank you. I’m going to find Lip. Do you mind staying until I come back?” You asked. 

“Nope. Can I have some of the chilli?” Carl asked. 

“Yeah, of course. Do you know how to change diapers and feed Freddy?” You asked. 

“Yeah, of course. I took care of Liam and Franny for Debbie sometimes,” Carl said. 

“Right, of course,” you chuckled. “Thanks, again. I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Carl waved. 

You didn’t bother grabbing your coat, rushing out of the house to find Lip. You drove to the Alibi, parking haphazardly. You went in, anger surging through you as you saw Lip smoking and drinking his liver and lungs out. He was talking with Kermit and Tommy. 

“Lip!” You screamed, the whole room turning going quiet. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Kev smiled. 

“Hey, Kev. Can I see Lip for a second?” You asked, clenching your jaw. 

Lip looked at you, his eyes dropping. “Hey, baby.” He walked up to you, a stoned smile on his face. 

You grabbed his hand, yanking him out to the alley behind the Alibi. 

“What's up?” Lip asked.

“You! That’s what’s up!” You exclaimed. 

“What do you mean?” Lip asked. 

“You fucking left Freddy alone!” You shouted. “I left him with Carl. He’s fine,” Lip shrugged. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t call me to say you were going to leave Freddy!” 

Lip glared at you. “I don’t need to call you. He’s my son.”

“He’s my son, too! I’m his mother. I need to know who he is with! What if Carl brought over Kelly and they started having sex on the couch where Freddy could see, huh? I don’t fucking want that!” 

Lip chuckled. “They wouldn’t do that. Carl and Kelly are broken up or whatever.”

You groaned. “That’s not the point! I’m tired and super stressed out. You could have let me know!” 

“I’m tired and stressed out, too!” Lip exclaimed.

“Oh, yeah, I bet you are. Getting fucking drunk and stoned,” you laughed sourly. 

“I’m not drunk, I had 2 sips of beer, and I worked!” Lip exclaimed. 

“Yeah? Well I worked, too! I worked until 9 at night. I should be home by then! And I was the one who cleaned the house and did the dishes and got the groceries, which by the way, you are fucking welcome!” You shouted. 

“I never asked you to do that,” Lip said. 

“i know, but I did it because we needed it. All I wanted was a thank you!” “Well I was tired and hungry when I got home,” Lip shrugged. 

You glared at him, tears clouding your vision. “You’re so full of shit, Lip. So full of fucking shit!” You screamed, pushing him back. He stumbled backwards and hit the brick wall gently. 

“What the fuck, Y/n?!” Lip yelled. 

“Don’t do that! You don’t have the right to question me!” You screamed back. 

Lip opened his mouth to yell back, but Veronica and Kevin came out. 

“Hey, you two stop it!” Veronica yelled. 

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Kevin asked. 

“She is yelling at me!” Lip pointed to you. 

“Yeah, cause you’re a fucking asshole!” You screamed, your voice hoarse and tears running down your face. 

“Oh, no,” Veronica muttered. She went over to you, wrapping her arms around you gently. “Let’s go inside and get you some tea, okay?”

You started to sob, leaning in to Veronica. Lip looked at you, his heart breaking at the sight of you so upset.  

“Kev, you take Lip home and get him cleaned up, okay? Make sure Freddy is fed and changed and put to bed, too,” Veronica instructed. 

Kevin nodded, putting his arm around Lip and went to Lip’s car. Veronica walked you inside, taking you to the back of the bar. She got you a beer and a hot cup of tea, placing them in front of you. 

“T-Thanks,” you sniffled. 

“Talk to me, baby,” Veronica said, sitting down next to you. 

“Lip left Freddy home alone with Carl. I’ve been so busy and tired today. I cleaned the whole house, got the groceries. I worked for fucking 8 hours. I just wanted a little ‘thank you’ from Lip. That’s all I wanted,” you cried. “God, I’m such a fucking crybaby.”

Veronica put her hand on your arm comfortingly. “No, honey, you’re not. I understand, don’t worry, and Lip should, too. Maybe you should calm down a little and then go back home and talk to him. Really talk, no shouting and pushing.”

You took a big sip of your beer and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good plan.”

Veronica smiled. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. 

“You sure? We have some chocolate chip cookies,” Veronica smiled. 

“Hm, okay. I'll have a few,” you smiled. 

“Great!” Veronica squealed. She went away for a few moments, coming back with a container full of cookies. 

You sat and talked with Veronica for two hours. You soon were about to pass out and decided to drive you and Veronica home since Kevin had taken their car. 

“Thanks for the fun night, V,” you smiled at Veronica as you dropped her back to her house. 

“No problem! Drive home safe! Call if you need anything,” Veronica said. 

“Will do,” you said and drove back home, which was thankfully only 5 minutes away. 

You got home, going in and seeing the living room empty. You took off your shoes, groaning in relief as your heels had been aching the whole day. You trudged up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard the shower going but didn’t bother to go and see Lip. 

You changed out of your work clothes and into a pair of shorts and a tank top. You put your hair in a messy bun, flinging yourself on your bed. 

Lip came into the room with Freddy a few moments later. You noticed his presence.

“What?” You snapped. 

“I just… do you want Freddy and I to lay down with you?” Lip asked. 

You looked to them, seeing Freddy smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. “Sure.”

You scooted over, Lip setting Freddy down next to you and climbing into bed with you. You gave Freddy a big kiss. 

“Hi, baby. I’ve missed you,” you cooed. 

Freddy chortled, clapping his hands. You giggled with the baby, ignoring Lip until he spoke. 

“So uh… how was your day?” Lip asked nervously. 

“Fine. How was yours?” You asked, not looking at him. 

“Mine was uh… good,” Lip said. 

“Good,” you said shortly. 

There was an awkward silence between you two before Lip spoke again. 

“I wanted to apologise for my actions today,” Lip started to say. 

This was the first time you felt like looking at him. You stared in his blue eyes, waiting for his apology. 

“I’m sorry about ignoring the work you did around the house and I’m sorry for not letting you know I was having Carl take care of Freddy. And I’m sorry for going to the Alibi and getting stoned. I really appreciate you cleaning the house. It really needed to be cleaned and to keep it clean, I promise to try and not leave dishes out and pick up Freddy’s toys,” Lip said. 

You smiled at his apology, scooting up on the bed so you could put your forehead on his without crushing Freddy. 

“Thank you. And the house being messy isn’t totally your fault. I need to learn to clean up after myself more, too,” you said. 

Lip chuckled, “That’s something we can both work on then.”

“Totally,” you smiled. 

“I’m also sorry for yelling at you at the Alibi. I’ve just been so stressed with work and Freddy. I’ve never had to take care of a baby that was my own before. I’ve always had help from Fiona and Ian,” Lip said. 

You put your hand on his cheek. “I know, baby. This is all new for me, too. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, too, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s alright. I kinda did,” Lip chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile “Well anyways, we’ll get through this together, okay? I love you. So, so, so much. And I love Freddy, probably a little too much,” you joked. “Let’s just take this one day at a time okay?”

Lip nodded and pressed his lips against yours softly. You kissed him back before pulling away, making sure Freddy was okay. 

Lip smiled. “I love you, too, you know.”

You looked back up to Lip with a big smile. “Yeah, I know.”

————

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[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe)  words: 3.5k

a/n: ah the sweet sweet smell of mutual pining. also 3 more chapters are planned, not written yet though bc i just decided i’d be writing them lmao. hopefully can get started on that this weekend and post them next week 🤗

taglist:  @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie @oikawasbooty @chocolate3010 @sugawarabby @greenyiplier @kritiiiii @tokyosdawn @youstydiaa @h3llok1ttygirl 

one | two 

Chapter Three

“You want me to help you with what?” You ask, a bit stunned when he showed up at the door, a terribly annoying but also cute pleading expression on his face.

He groans, his shoulders hunching forward in exasperation. “Ya really gunna make me repeat it?”

You peer closer at the top of his head and see that he’s being serious. The roots of his hair growing in are a dark brown and it had never even occurred to you that he dyes his hair the blonde color you’re so used to. “No, but why do you need my help?”

This is so embarrassing. Normally his roommate or a teammate can help him but none of them are available today and he’s already let the roots grow longer than he likes. But when one of them suggested you help him out instead, something inside him rebelled. For some reason, the thought of having you dye his hair for him made him uncomfortable, like he’s showing you an intimate part of him. This hair has been a part of him so long he can’t remember the last time he’d let it grow out.

“I can’t see if I got everything,” he admits. It took a lot of pacing around his room and staring at his roots for him to get up the courage to come over here to ask you. He can’t really explain why he was so against it, especially since you don’t seem to mind after you got over the initial shock of realizing this isn’t his natural hair.

A wave of relief washes over him when you sigh, conceding, “Alright. Just let me change into something I can get bleach on. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”

While he waits for you, he busies himself with mixing the dye together so it’s ready for you, and when you arrive in a t-shirt and shorts with paint splatters all over them, he mentally kicks himself for thinking about how even wearing something so simple you still look better than anyone he’s ever seen. Crossing your arms, you motion for him to take a seat at his desk. Before he does so, he reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment, it taking you a second to process that he’s now standing before you shirtless and you’re free to ogle his muscular chest and arms to your hearts content. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, knowing if he meets your gaze, he won’t be able to stop the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. Instead, he wraps a towel around his waist to protect his shorts and sits in the chair to wait for you.  

Except now, you have free reign to stare at his back, which is just as defined as the front of him and you need a few more seconds to reel your thoughts back.

“Whaddya waitin’ for darling?” He drawls, throwing you a glance over his shoulder, not expecting you to be standing there frozen, eyes pinned to his now bare chest.

He opens his mouth to tease you further, but your eyes snap to his and you practically shout, “Do you have another towel?” He just cocks a brow and then points to his closet where another towel is hanging on a hook. Snatching it, you return to him and drape it over his shoulders, hiding most of his annoyingly toned body. “Don’t want to get any bleach on your skin,” you explain, no way in hell ever admitting to him that you’re finding it hard to focus with him on display like that.

Absentmindedly, he hands you one of the clips he bought a long time ago, one that’s almost completely bleached itself and you start running your fingers through his hair to section it. He closes his eyes, focusing intently on the soothing sensation of your fingers on his scalp, doing his best not to groan out loud at how good it feels. With anyone else, this isn’t anything special, normally he sits as patiently as he can whilst trying not to annoy whoever is doing his hair (lest they decide to ‘mess up’ as punishment). But with you, it’s a different feeling entirely.

It's jarringly intimate as you clip his hair back and reach over him to grab the plastic gloves that came with the dye. Lathering up the applicator brush, you start slathering it onto his hair, trying your hardest to make sure it’s evenly distributed and surrounding each strand. As you do so, you ask, “How long have you been doing this?”

He resists the urge to shrug, not wanting to jostle you, replying, “Osamu and I started in middle school.”

“Osamu dyes his hair too?”

“Yeah, he goes for gray. But I’d heard blondes have more fun so—here we are.”

He grits his teeth as your fingers skim over his scalp, glad for the towel you wrapped around him to hide the goosebumps skittering along his bare skin.

“Let me guess,” you muse. “You guys did it because people couldn’t tell you apart?”

“That,” he laughs, “And we thought it would look cool. The first time we did it, it looked like shit.”

Your answering laugh warms his heart as you unclip a section of hair and keep working. “I can’t imagine your mom being too happy about it.”

“Livid. We got bleach everywhere.”

You laugh, continuing to move through his hair methodically. It doesn’t take very long as you’re just dying his roots and they weren’t that bad to begin with, contrary to what Atsumu thinks. When you finish, he gives you a sheepish look and has to swallow his pride to ask you to help him wash it out. Every time he’s tried to do it himself, he always ends up leaving a huge chunk of bleach somewhere.

You oblige, following him to the bathroom, not bothering to care about the looks you get along the way. If they want to stare at a shirtless Atsumu and then glare at you for having that all to yourself, that’s their prerogative. It does wonders for your confidence, regardless that all of this is a ruse.

Luckily, the bathroom is empty and Atsumu dutifully bends over the sink to let you start washing the dye out of his hair. He’s immensely grateful his eyes are shut, and his face is shoved into the sink to hide his flushed cheeks as he thoroughly enjoys your fingers running through his hair. The sensation of your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp makes him ball his fists as he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds.

You’re unbothered, until you notice the towel has slipped from his shoulders and with the way he’s bracing himself against the counter every muscle in his back and arms is on display for you to see. It’s an effort to continue your task as if nothing is wrong and force yourself to look off into the distance instead of eyeing him up.

It’s no easy feat. Especially when you finish and he rises, scrubbing at his face with the discarded towel before moving on to his hair. You press your lips into a firm line and let yourself indulge just a little bit looking at the way his muscles flex with the movement, droplets from his damp hair trailing down the planes of his chest towards the waistband of his shorts and—your attention is broken at the sound of him chuckling and you snap your gaze to his.

You find him staring at you with mischief sparkling in his eyes, so you speak before he can tease you. “Is that it?”

“We have to actually dye it now.”

“Oh.” You turn on your heels desperate to escape his gaze. “Let’s go then.” A smirk plays across his lips, but he refrains from teasing you, solely because he very much enjoyed the way you were looking at him and doesn’t want you to stop.

And yeah—sue him if he thinks about your hands in his hair for the rest of the day. In the end, he might be a little grateful no one else was available to help him.

When mid-semester break arrives, it comes as a surprise that you actually miss each other. What surprises you even further, is that he’s the one to bring it up. Within the first night, he video calls you, a sheepish expression on his face, explaining he needed someone to complain to.

“What do you mean?” You teased. “Sounds like you’re getting stuffed with good food from Osamu and you have plenty to brag about.” You winked, smiling devilishly at him and pointing to yourself. You’re only joking. Slightly. You aren’t sure what will come about if he tells his family about you, or if that’s even a good idea. It’d be much easier to break this off cleanly without the involvement of each other’s families.

He sighs, flopping down on his bed and scrubbing his face with one hand. “They’re just dyin’ to meet you now.”

Your brows lift, half-expecting him to have tried to keep this a secret. “You told them?”

“I wasn’t gunna,” he explains. “But apparently some college sports news channel caught um—,” he coughs awkwardly, remembering very vividly this day, yet the two of you haven’t acknowledged it since. “Our—uh—celebration.”

Eyes widening, you stare at him a moment before the both of you burst out laughing. Between your giggles you manage to say, “Oops.”

Laughing alongside you, he grins, despite the pang in his heart at the voice in his head desperately trying to remind him all of this isn’t real. You aren’t his girlfriend and the moment all of this ends, you probably won’t bat an eye at him ever again. He hates how much that hurts.

Forging onward towards his demise he discloses, “I am now a very proud owner of a very jealous brother now, so thank you.”

That only makes you keep grinning, setting a hand on your cheek and dramatically saying, “What? Of little ol’ me?”

He fights the urge to tell you that yes—jealous of little ol’ you. The girl who is slowly becoming the girl of his dreams. The beautiful, funny girl who deals with him and everything that comes with him. He swallows all that, keeping the mood and saying, “He refuses to let me try any of his onigiri. A crime, really.”

“Of the highest caliber,” you agree, stifling your laughter. “Though I’m sure you steal some when he isn’t looking.”

“Yeah, but he caught me and hit me on the head with his spoon.”

“How dare he. Lucky for me, my family is clueless.”

“What do they think yer doin’ right now then?”

Shrugging you say, “I told them I had a project to work on with a classmate. Which isn’t entirely a lie, I do have a project to work on. But someone interrupted.”

He smirks. “Wonder who that could be.”

“Beats me.” His responding grin does something to you that’s been happening a lot more frequently lately. Making you feel like all the air has been punched out of you and like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Though, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding it.

In the distance, you hear someone calling his name. He panics, it’s bad enough his family knows about you now, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for them to meet you. Especially Osamu, who he has the sinking feeling is already suspicious of this. It’ll be a miracle if he can slip this by him.

“Gotta go!” He says quickly, and before he ends the call, he hears you chuckle and say, “Beware the spoon.”

Every day his situation only gets worse.

The next night he can’t get Osamu off his back. Enough that when he tries to retreat to his bedroom to give you a call, pathetically missing you again, Osamu bursts in when he’s about two minutes into the video call with you. He tries to shove him out, embarrassed and afraid Osamu will see straight through him. But Osamu is stubborn, and he hears you laughing on the other end of the call before saying, “Aww, Atsumu won’t you at least let me try to charm the pants off him?”

He grits his teeth, the thought that he wants you to charm the pants off of him, not his brother flitting through his head before he can stop it. But he relents, letting Osamu sit backwards on his desk chair to join the conversation.

He isn’t sure how, but somehow you get Osamu to believe this is real in a matter of minutes. You have him laughing and talking about culinary school and he almost feels jealous that your attention is now on Osamu instead of him. It’s a ridiculous notion, he knows it, but it doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera on him as much as possible.

When the call ends, Osamu looks at him seriously, and for a moment Atsumu thinks he’s just been pretending to believe you this entire time. However, he breaks into a smile and smacks him on the back saying, “Got yerself a keeper, there.”

Atsumu tries to grin with as much sincerity as he can. Yeah—he knows he does. But that isn’t going to stop this from ending.

That night, both of you go to bed feeling like you’re getting in too deep.

And as per usual, when school starts back up again, neither of you bring it up. You’re happy to keep ignoring it, hating yourself for liking this arrangement and him more and more every day. It sad really, how much time in your day is spent thinking about him. Wondering if there’s any possibility that the two of you could just transition to a real relationship. Because to you, that’s already what this is. Nothing would change, but at least you’d stop feeling guilty every time you enjoy his hand in yours or the soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

A few days after returning to school, you find yourself alone with him in his dorm room studying. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook while you lay on his bed, head propped up by an elbow. You can feel your eyes drooping, the words blurring together, it becoming harder and harder to stay awake. His bed is too comfortable and smells overwhelmingly like him, a scent you’ve come to enjoy every time you’re pressed up against him. A mixture of his body wash and the ever-present faint smell of the volleyball court. Eventually you’re powerless against the solace of sleep.

When Atsumu notices you, his heart jumps into his throat. You look so serene and peaceful, your chest rising and falling ever so slightly, part of him wants to crawl in beside you and press his face into your neck and fall asleep right along with you.

But he too has begun to feel like this game has gone too far. The moment he had to tell his family, lie to Osamu, he knew he’d crossed a line. It isn’t fair to you. No longer does he need to pretend for his teammates that he can have a serious relationship, there isn’t a reason to torture himself and keep you tied to him anymore.

Yet, thinking about not being without you, no longer eating lunch together, studying together, or having you in the stands at his games wrenches his heart in such a way he actually feels like it’s crumpling inside his chest. He hasn’t been able to admit it, but at some point along the way, he thinks he fell in love with you. And it just hurts too much to keep pretending. Especially when you’re only doing this for peace and quiet during your showers.

For you, he shouldn’t drag this on any longer.

So, a couple days later, you texted him telling him you were in the library and can join him anytime if he wants. A harmless text, one you’ve sent him many times since this whole thing started, but this one makes his heart sink. Knowing this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to talk to you. He tries to not think about it, trying to let volleyball take over his thoughts, but it’s futile. All he can think about is saying those words to you, and how it’s quite possibly going to utterly destroy him.

But you take it well, as he expects, squashing the hope that you might feel something for him too.

That night in the library feels particularly lonely. There’s no quick-witted remark from the boy who carved himself a place in your life, no one there to make you laugh when you’re struggling with a problem. Instead, you’re met with nothing but the darkness and silence of the library. It’s almost too much to bear, and once the silence starts closing in on you—you force yourself to leave, refusing to let yourself wallow.

The next weeks are hard. He never imagined that he’d think that after all of this was over. He keeps showering in the mornings to avoid you and uphold the deal you two struck months ago. He ignores the empty hole in his chest when he eats lunch without you, or studies late alone. The most jarring thing is your absence at his games. He constantly finds himself searching the crowd for your face, before remembering you won’t be there. He misses that intense gaze he could always feel on his back, the one that kept him awake at night when he let his thoughts run wild.

He feels as though something has been ripped from his life, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind that seems intent on devouring him whole.

The same can be said for you.

Who knew you’d ever miss his teasing remarks while you shower? Or miss how you could complain to him endlessly about classes and then have him comfort you in the warm solace of his arms? Even the little things like walking to class together, now that you do it alone, it feels like there’s something missing.

The two you go on like that, thinking of the other every night before sleeping, tossing and turning with the thought of what could have been.

And eventually, you reach the point where you’re over it. Over pining after him day after day, peering out your door to make sure he isn’t around, or taking detours just to avoid him in the hallways. You’re over it. Enough that you’re willing to swallow your pride and confess to him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way—maybe you can fucking move on then.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stomp to his dorm room, his roommate opening the door; his eyes widening upon seeing you. Immediately, he grabs his keys saying into the room, “I forgot I need to go to the store Atsumu, see you later.”

He leaves no time for Atsumu to protest, out the door in a matter of moments, leaving you standing in the doorway. Atsumu is just sitting in his desk chair, looking dumfounded at you, having fully expected to never see you again.

The gears in his head grind to a halt as you say, “This is stupid.”

He gives you a bewildered look, unsure what exactly you mean by that.

You steel your courage and press on. “I like you. And you like me. I think. And all this pretending that we don’t is stupid.”

After a few moments, his lips curve into a smile, the mischievous one you used to hate but now feel relief seeing. He can’t help the joy building in his chest at your confession. How many sleepless nights thinking about this very moment did he endure?

“You said it,” he teases.

Despite giving him a look, you do nothing to stop the grin rising to your lips. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were going to.”

His smile only widens, and he motions you into the room. “Get yer butt over here already.”

You move on instinct, striding into the room and climbing into his lap, settling your legs on either side of his you wrap your arms around his neck. The overwhelming sense that yes—this is exactly where you want to be, washes over you. He smirks up at you, his large hands resting at your waist, waiting for your next move.

“I can’t believe I actually missed that stupid smirk,” you say, lowering your lips to his, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of his neck.

His smile hasn’t faltered, muttering against your lips teasing, “Does this mean I can shower at night again?”

A laugh bubbles out of you, but he smothers it in another kiss and refuses to let go.

[sunnypogue]

coho!rafe takes care of his sick girlfriend

some coho!rafe for you kind humans.

sometimes you gotta write some sappy, self indulgent shit.

aka this is what i need when i’m sick bc i am the most pathetic person ever when sick.

enjoy xoxo

--

You knew it when you woke up.

Seven hours earlier, when you were collapsing into bed after a full day of class and work, you had felt fine. Tired, maybe, but overall, you were good, lucid enough to wash your face and brush your teeth before spooning your boyfriend, already dead to the world.

Now, you were awake in an empty bed, head too heavy to move, wondering how the fuck you were going to get through three classes and a four-hour work shift without passing out.

You swallowed – and then immediately groaned, your dry, sore throat lighting up with a quick flash of pain.

Yeah. There was no way today was going to be anything less than horrible.

You willed yourself to a seated position, head spinning at the sudden pressure change. Your hands flew to your head, audibly moaning as you felt your brain throb, your eyebrows knit together in result of the pain.

The doorhandle rattled. You kept your head pressed into your hands, not ready to deal with whatever was on the other side.

“Baby?” Rafe’s voice entered the room first, the sound of the door hitting the wall exploding in your ears. “You’ve got class in 30.”

You groaned. “I know, I’m coming, just give me a second.”

Eyes still shut, you jumped when you felt the mattress sink next to you, shivered when Rafe’s hand pressed firmly against your forehead.

“Nope.”

Your eyes flew open. “What do you mean, nope?” You moved to swing your legs off the bed. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Rafe stood, planting his hands on your shoulders, keeping your weak body seated on the bed. “I meant no, you’re not going anywhere today. You’re burning up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Rafe, that’s really not an option. I’ve got three classes today, one of which is on literature theory, and I really can’t miss it, so if you could please move, that would be great.”

You gave a feeble attempt at moving his hand. He didn’t budge.

You tried again. “Rafe, I’ve got work tonight, and you know how hard it is to find last minute coverage for basketball games so it’s fine, I’ll push through it today and use tomorrow to rest.”

Rafe ignored you, reaching for your laptop instead. “I’ll email your professors and boss. Just go back to sleep.”

You squawked, reaching for your laptop. “Rafe!”

He glared at you. “Don’t fight with me. You’re sick, you’re staying home.” He rolled his eyes at your tired pout. “Now, I’m going to email whoever you’re indebted to or whatever, and then I’m gonna run to the grocery store. You’re gonna sleep. Got it?”

You sunk back into the bed, sheets pulled up over your chest. “Got it.” You offered, voice meek.

Rafe turned to leave, laptop in hand, when you squeaked out, “Rafe?”

He paused. “Yeah, baby?”

“Can you bring me some water?”

He offered you a smile. “Sure. Now go to sleep.”

When he returned, water in hand, you were passed out, completely burrowed in the duvet, lights still on.

He set the glass on a coaster, dropped a quick kiss to your warm forehead, and flicked the light off.

-

Hours later, you woke up with a start, mouth dry, eyes bleary. Somehow, you felt even worse than before. Your throat was screaming for water, your entire body was aching, and the pressure behind your eyes had become even worse. Confused and upset, you felt tears welling up in your eyes, frustrated that your nap hadn’t solved all your problems.

Rafe came in as you were wiggling to a seated position, hands reaching out for the water on your nightstand.

“Afternoon.” He smiled. “How you feeling?”

You just looked at him, eyes wet and cheeks red.

His face fell, moving to sit by your side. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Planting your face in his neck, you sobbed, delusional from the fever and still so fucking tired, despite your five hour nap. You curled yourself into his side and let him rub your hot back, not caring that his hands felt like ice, sniffling and choking into his shirt sleeve.

Rafe tugged you into his lap when you started to calm down, your breathing less ragged and your sobs less violent. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, not removing it from his neck. “Just hate feeling like this.”

Rafe nodded, hand moving to cup the back of your head as you continued sniffling. He knew how much you hated being sick and the setbacks it brought with it. He knew you hated the idea of being behind in classes, or letting your boss down, or simply feeling useless – which is why you pushed yourself to the point of near incapacitation, your body completely shutting down after months of constant work.

“I know.” He offered, voice low. “You gotta take care of yourself though, you know? Happens to everyone.”

You just choked on a sob.

Rafe maneuvered you around, seating you so your back was pressed against his chest. “Look,” He gestured towards the dresser. “Brought you some stuff. Doctor said you can take Advil to help with the fever and throat pain. Also said you were probably dehydrated, so you should drink some stuff with electrolytes.” He glanced down at you, registering your glazed gaze. “You should drink some of that now, actually. I don’t think you’ve had anything in your body since dinner.”

You shrugged, visibly exhausted. “You called my doctor?”

Rafe blushed. “I called your mom, who called your doctor. She just relayed the information back to me – and told me to tell you to call her when you’re feeling up to it.”

You nodded. “Okay. Maybe later. I’m tired.”

“I know you are.”

Rafe moved from behind you, helping you lean back onto your propped-up pillows. Grabbing the Advil and the Gatorade, he cracked both bottles, tapping the pills out into his hand before handing you the bottle.

“You can take three more in four hours.” He reminded, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face as you took the medicine. “Should help with the fever.”

You grimaced, pills feeling like bowling balls as they moved down your throat. “Thanks.” You rasped out.

He smiled, face soft as he looked down at you. “Of course, baby. Need anything else?”

You shook your head, nestling back into the bed, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. “No. Gon’ sleep.”

You were barely hanging onto consciousness when he pulled your duvet cover up to your chin, the pad of his thumb running over the heated, soft skin under your eye.

He leaned down to press a kiss into your hair, murmuring,

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[plant-flwrs]

hi!! can i request a sad fred/george out past curfew after doing a prank or detention and they find (more like smell) the reader making sweets from the kitchens - he falls in love with her bc she helps him feel better and everything she does reminds him of home and his family 🥺 thank u!

sweet treats // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i love this request! it’s such a cute little blurb and idea and i hope i did it justice! i might even like ur request more than what i wrote 😳 n e way i hope u like it!!! thanks for requesting!!!

------

He knew the sound of his feet shuffling on the stone floor was audible, the risk of getting caught after curfew loomed over him like a rain cloud. It usually would have thrilled him, but right now he couldn’t feel anything besides paralyzing fear and worry.

It had only been a day since Ginny went missing, presumably taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and George was nauseated every minute since he found out. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and he didn’t think he would ever sleep again. His eyes felt heavy, but his mind whirled with every possibility of what was happening to Ginny. The entire castle felt different, every looming shadow felt like a threat, and every hidden passageway felt like a death trap.

He made sure to avoid all shadows, and walked cautiously in the center of the hallway. He hadn’t even bothered to take the map with him, deciding he didn’t care if Filch caught him.

He walked aimlessly. The only thing on his mind was Ginny. He felt his eyes watering, and didn’t bother to wipe the tears away.

He hadn’t known how long he had been out of bed for. He was nearing back to the common room, walking past the Great Hall. The massive doors were cracked open, and the dim light of a few candles shown through the small opening. George shuffled in, deciding to sit at the table for a minute. His eyes fell on the spot where Ginny had last sat for dinner, and his body felt weak. He sat there, where she had sat, and ran his hands over the wood. Tears fell from his eyes and onto the table. He looked up, glancing at the enchanted ceiling above him. The sky had clouded and the dazzling stars were barely noticeable.

Regaining some composure, he lifted himself from the bench. He then looked around, trying to find where the light was coming from. He noticed that the door leading down to the kitchens was ajar, light spilling from the entrance as it did the Great Hall. He walked over to the door, wiping his face of any tears. Pulling it open, he was rushed by the smell of pumpkin and baked goods. He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one saw him start down the stairs. He made one last effort to conceal the fact that he had been crying, bringing the neck of his sweatshirt up to wipe his face.

He pulled open the door to the kitchen, and the smell was stronger. It reminded him of a specific moment of his childhood. He had woken up in the middle of the night, feeling scared from a nightmare he had. He stumbled down the rickety stairs of his house, going to get a glass of water. There was candlelight illuminating the bottom of the stairs, and he followed the light. He turned the corner to see his mother pulling cookies from the oven. She turned to place them on the counter and nearly dropped them when she saw George watching her.

“Fred?” she narrowed her eyes, shaking her head, “George, what are you doing up?”

He shrugged, moving to sit at the table, “had a bad dream.”

His mother looked at him suspiciously, trying to decide if the mischievous boy was telling the truth. She saw the sweat stained brim of his shirt, his watery eyes, and his disheveled hair. She filled a glass with some milk and put a couple of cookies on a plate. She brought them over to George and sat next to him.

“It was just a dream, dear,” she said, placing a hand over his.

He drank the milk and ate a cookie, feeling very grateful for his mother’s cooking skills.

“I know, just scary, ‘s all,” George said.

“You’re alright now,” she smiled at her son, pulling his head to rest on her shoulder, “safe and sound.”

 He leaned into her touch, still chewing on some of the cookie. His eyes felt heavy and he nearly fell asleep there, safe in his mother’s embrace.

Peeking into the Hogwarts kitchen, he was disappointed when he didn’t see his mother making cookies. Instead, he saw a girl from his year leaning over an old and tattered book, twirling her wand between her fingers. Bowls and utensils littered the counter around her, some flour and batter stained her pajama shirt.

You furrowed your brow, reading the cookbook intently. You were trying to figure out how much was too much pumpkin essence, always feeling tempted to add extra. You read your messy handwriting on the side of the page, a note you had left to yourself about not adding too much of the sweet ingredient. 

George watched you brush some hair out of your face, leaving a trail of flour on your forehead. You moved back to a large bowl, opening a bottle in the shape of a pumpkin and pouring it generously into the bowl. You bit your lip in concentration, capping the bottle when you were done. He watched your eyes flicker to your wand before you picked up a wooden spoon, deciding to do it by hand. You stirred the mixture, and once you were satisfied, you ate a little bit off the spoon. Smiling to yourself, you reached for a pan across the counter. You applied some parchment paper and began to spoon on scoops of the mixture.

George was debating whether or not to go back upstairs. He would climb into the unfamiliar bed, try to fall asleep but be unable to, haunted with worry. He heard a noise from above him, and startled, opening the door to the kitchen and shutting t it behind him.

“Ah!” you yelped, dropping the wooden spoon with a clatter to the floor. 

You stared at the boy, who had his back pressed against the door. He looked sad. Big, heavy, purple bags hung from under his eyes and his skin was ghostly pale. You recognized him to be one of the Weasley twins, and you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out which one he was. You bent to pick up the spoon, meeting your eyes with his once you straightened. He began moving from the door, standing awkwardly behind the counter between you two.

“Hi,” you said, wiping your hands on a rag.

“Hi,” he said, his voice cracking. 

He looked down at the floor, seeming to be embarrassed.

“What are you doing down here?” you asked him, putting the dirty spoon on the counter.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was walking around the castle when I smelled something down here,” he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his plaid pajama pants.

“Oh,” you replied, looking down at the mess you made in the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was baking. I bake when I can’t sleep,” you smiled nervously at him, thinking he might find you odd.

He hadn’t found you odd. He smiled fondly, and nodded his head. 

“Do you mind if I stay down here?” he asked.

“Not at all,” you responded, blushing from the way he smiled at you.

You took the spoon to the sink and washed it, bringing it back to the bowl. George sat at a small wooden table a few feet away, where he could still see you. The chair was far too small for his long body, and he realized it was because it was made for house elves. He watched you begin to scoop the batter again, the pan nearly full now.

“What are you making?” he asked.

“Pumpkin cookies,” you said, not looking up from your batter.

George smiled again, a small smile he couldn’t seem to wipe off. Moments ago he had been torn with worry, but now he felt strangely at peace with you in the kitchen.

Your face was illuminated by the candles on the counter, an orange glow warping your features. He thought you were very beautiful in the candle light and he felt very comforted just by your presence.

You could feel George’s eyes on you, but you didn’t mind. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had heard about what had happened to his sister. You felt terribly bad for all the Weasleys. You had seen the redheads moping in the halls, and many people in Gryffindor ties were crying in the halls.

You slid the cookies into the large oven by your feet, and looked at the clock to mark when they would be done. You wiped your hands on the rag, and picked up your wand. You moved all the dirty bowls and kitchen equipment to the large sink, where you then casted a charm to make them wash themselves. You looked at the kitchen one last time, feeling accomplished, and moved to sit with George. 

You smiled widely at him, looking at his large legs bent awkwardly as he sat in the chair that was too small for him. You bent a little too, fitting into the chair easier than George did. You looked at him, his eyes cast down at his hands in his lap.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

His eyes met yours and his brow furrowed. His lips were pulled into a tight line. 

“Not really,” he said, his voice weak.

“I’m sorry,” you hadn’t wanted to say what you were sorry for, in case he didn’t want to hear it. 

He nodded appreciatively at you, and his eyes fell back down to his lap.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” you broke the silence, hoping that you could distract him from his thoughts.

He looked back up at you, interest piqued. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask you why, and you sighed.

“I’m feeling a bit homesick, I suppose. My mum wrote to me today and it made me miss her even more,” you said, bringing the letter from your pocket. You twisted it in your hands and placed it on the table. You had brought it down with you to read again while you ate the cookies.

“I guess I am too,” George said, looking back at the kitchen where you had been, “my mom bakes a lot. She’s a great baker.”

George seemed like he was trying not to cry, and you frowned at him. You reached forward and placed a comforting hand over his on the table.

“She sounds lovely,” you said.

He looked at your hands, swallowing back some tears. He ran his free hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. He turned his hand up so your palms were touching. He closed his hand around yours and squeezed it.

He looked up at you, meeting your concerned eyes with his sad ones. The two of you sat like that for a while, holding hands.

You eventually glanced at the clock, and felt glad to see that your cookies were just about done. 

“The cookies should be done,” you said quietly, and the both of you retracted your hands.

George’s eyes followed you as you went to get the cookies. You waved your wand, and all of the now clean and dry dishes flew back to their right places. You levitated the pan from the oven, putting it to rest on the counter. You retrieved a large plate from a cabinet, and a spatula from a drawer. You dished the cookies onto the plate and got two glasses from another cabinet. You pulled open a fridge and got a jug of milk. George smiled fondly at you, his heart spinning in his chest.

You balance the plate on the inside of your arm, your hands full with two glasses of milk. You put one glass in front of George and the plate of cookies between you two. The room filled with the wonderful smell of pumpkin, and George felt at home.

The two of you ate cookies together, and you were able to make George laugh a few times. He felt better, he wasn’t consumed with thoughts about his sister, and he felt like he could actually get some sleep.

You put the remaining cookies in a container you had conjured, closing the lid and holding the box in your hands. You and George stood at the bottom of the stairs, about to walk back up.

“I’m glad I found you here,” George said, turning to you.

“Me too, I’m glad you came.”

He smiled and sighed heavily, his eyes feeling very heavy.

“You made me feel a lot better, and the cookies were delicious.”

“Here,” you moved the container into his bigger hands, “you can have them.”

You shifted, moving your cookbook to fill the space in your hands.

“Oh no,” he said, holding them back out to you, “you made them.”

You shook your head, refusing to take them back.

“Are you sure?” you nodded your head, “Alright, thanks.”

You smiled up at him, and he smiled back down at you.

The two of you walked wordlessly upstairs, and you walked George back to his common room. You faced each other one last time, still smiling.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said, his voice hushed.

“Goodnight,” you replied, and started walking to your own common room.

George watched you until you turned the corner, his only thoughts about you.

The next morning, George’s eyes felt heavy and swollen from lack of sleep and crying. He had felt happy for a moment when he first woke, his mind still occupied by you, until he saw Fred’s abandoned bed next to his.

He pulled the covers off of him and changed from his pajamas. He wore his Weasley family sweater, feeling awfully homesick.

The Gryffindor common room was eerily quiet. Everyone’s mouths were in downcast frowns, moping around like scared animals.

George couldn’t stand it; he had to get some fresh air. He passed his brother on the couch, leaning into Angelina’s comforting arm. Their eyes met and neither of them smiled.

George stuffed his cold hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looked at the cloudy sky, sitting at a bench in the courtyard. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a tin hitting the table in front of him. He looked towards the noise and saw you. You had put a tin full of assorted cookies on the table. You were wrapped in a scarf with your house colors on it, the tip of your nose pink.

“Hi, George,” you said, moving to sit across from him.

“Hi,” he smiled, relieved to see you again.

“I made these this morning, and I know it’s early, and you just had some yesterday,” you rambled, and George found it adorable, “but you looked like you could use some more.”

He looked at you, eyes full of adoration. He nodded happily, picking a cookie up and taking a large bite. His eyes closed in euphoria, appreciating how good of a baker you were.

“These are really good, thank you,” he said, taking another.

“No problem,” you said, pushing the tin forwards.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Me? Oh, yeah,” you replied, smiling bashfully at him, happy to know he remembered what you said the night before.

“Good,” he said, smiling at the blush on your cheeks.

“What about you? You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want,” you told him, lowering your voice to a serious and comforting tone.

“I’m just worried, you know?” George said, his expression saddening at the thought of Ginny.

“I know, but I’m sure she’ll be fine, really,” you said, bringing your hand to cover his again. He smiled at them, turning his palm like he did last night and holding your hand.

“I hope so,” he said, squeezing your hand.

George and Fred left the infirmary, saying goodbye to their parents as the adults went to Dumbledore’s office. They began the walk to their common room, finally feeling a release from their shoulders. They had seen Ginny safe and sound, a bit torn up, but safe. Just as Fred said the password to the portrait, George realized there was only one person he wanted to see, and you weren’t in the Gryffindor common room.

He told Fred he had to go, and broke off into a run. He ran down the stairs, taking them by two, and his long legs carried him through the halls. He ran through the doors of the great hall and down the stairs to the kitchens.

He found you there, putting icing on a beautiful cake. You eyes shot up at him, and you smiled,

“George? What are you doing down here?” you asked, and he walked towards you.

“I had to see you, I had to tell you; they found Ginny,” he said, and he was breathing heavily. He couldn’t tell if it was from running or from being so close to you.

His face was inches away from yours, and his hands gripped your shoulders. 

“Oh! That’s great, I’m so glad!” you said, dropping your icing spatula and embracing George.

He wrapped his arms around you, breathing in the smell of freshly baked cake. He pulled you away from his chest, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks. You stared at him, and he looked down at your lips. 

He closed the distance and kissed you gently. He tasted the sweet icing on your tongue, and smiled a little. Your hands were messy, but you didn’t care. You ran your hands through his hair, letting your fingernails drag through the red locks. You both pulled away, out of breath. He smiled at your swollen lips, and you smiled at the icing you had just rubbed all over his face.

You pulled out of his embrace, reaching for the rag on the counter. You brought it to his face and wiped away the sugary substance. You both stood there, smiling senselessly at each other.

“I baked a cake,” you said, “now it’s a celebration cake.”

“Can I have some?”

“Of course,” you moved away, finishing the frosting and slicing a generous piece for George.

You watched him take a bite, his mouth turning into an even wider smile.

“It’s delicious.”

[scum-belina]

I was supposed to have today and Sunday off and I was planning on just staying home all weekend, but this morning my maternal grandma called me and told me and my mom to come over and help pick my grandpa up off the floor bc he fell yet again. So we go over and lift him up and get him in a wheelchair, and I try to explain to my grandma that my grandpa is so weak and confused from dementia that she NEEDS to get him professional care (they have all the insurance and benefits u can have and even their doctors have offered to send home health over), but she wouldn’t listen. there was piss and shit everywhere due to his constant incontinence and so we have to clean up everything, and while doing it my grandma is like “oh hey your aunt brought me this hair toner to even out my color, why don’t you use it on me?” (I had bleached her hair a week before per her request), 

so midway thru cleaning human waste I have to wash myself up to do her hair, and then I do all her dishes so I can rinse her hair out in the sink. The sink was clogged with rotted food so i had to extract heaps of the nasty shit out and then plunge the sink afterwards (garbage disposal has been broke for years) before I could even wash the dishes. then i wash the sink with sanitizing stuff and wash her hair, then I cleaned her kitchen and threw away tons of empty boxes and stuff that she just can’t be bothered to throw away and I clean out her fridge too bc it is FULL of rotted food that would definitely kill her from food poisoning and I take her trash out. 

Then she lets her 2 little dogs out front unsupervised and they run out into heavy traffic, so I had to run out and get them back and dodge cars the whole time (my mom helped at least but STILL), then I find the big do in the backyard has dug MULTIPLE steeps holes that my grandma cannot see with her eyesight, so I grab a shovel and fill them all up. 4 hours later I finally get to leave. 

I feel like a piece of shit for being this upset but like...when does it end??? When will I get a day of peace? I spend all my days caretaking for others who have already had all their families and careers and experienced so much while I have nothing and don’t get hardly an hour to myself to actually even work towards achieving the things I want. I’m so fucking tired.

 I believe in doing the things I can for people, but I’m expected to always be available and then still get treated bad and like some loser bc of like...my life or lack thereof!!! All I do when I’m alone is cry anymore like I really feel so goddamn alone I have nothing to look forward to or live for in my personal life I want this all to stop

[thejamesoldier]

Every Tomorrow

AO3 Link

a/n: Did I write this fic bc I slammed face first back into the inuyasha fandom after the premiere of yashahime? Absolutely. Did I write this fic so I could get those g o o d domestic inukag feels? Absolutely. Did I write this fic as a way to come to terms with the fact that one of my first crushes as a kid happened to be an animated dog man? Absolutely. Enjoy yall xxx

(this goregous gif isn’t mine!) 

rating: explicit 

pairing: inuyasha x kagome

tags: protective inuyasha, jealous inuyasha, emotionally constipated inuyasha, honestly whats new, youkai mates, soulmates, youkai culture, mate bonds, mate rituals, touch-starved inuyasha, shippo is kagome’s son dont talk to me, mirsan as parents, sesshoumaru is still kinda a prick but we like him now, angst and smut and fluff, domestic bliss, srsly this shit is so soft i should be arrested, non-canon compliant with yashahime, shit ton of inukag being cute tbh

summary: 'Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.'

or

my excuse to write some indulgent domestic inukag and explore their happy ending

Chapter 1 - mizpah 

The day is grey.

Clouds rumble low and thick over the skyline, swallowing the tops of buildings in the distance and casting deep shadows across the shrine grounds. Kagome is supposed to go out today, a few friends asked her to grab lunch at some new bistro that's opened up near campus. She'd been contemplating how to work the impending downpour into an excuse to stay home, never really having the energy for much these days. Parsing out when to expend the limited energy she did have had become a constant chore since being cut off from --

A familiar pain twangs through her chest, the ache almost welcome. It's all she has left of him.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe its the gloom of the day pulling out the worst of her longing, but regardless she finds herself pushing silently out of her room, walking downstairs, slipping outside, and standing before the closed doors of the Bone Eater's well. Drawn back once again to what was stolen from her. Kagome had promised herself she'd stop doing this, stop torturing herself -- stop giving in to the inexplicable sorrow of living a life without him. But just like the other times, the temptation to let the true weight of her loss pour into the gaping hole in her soul and fill her to the brim, make her so heavy with it that she's brought to her knees, is a poison she's unable to resist. She does this more regularly than she knows is healthy, but its the only way Kagome feels whole anymore. If she's not drowning in loss then she's empty, and Kagome isn't sure which is worse. Without a word she shoulders the doors open and descends the rotting stairs.

The familiar musty smell of earth and something not quite alive but not quite dead hits her. Kagome's eyes water at the memories the scent yields. Before she can stop herself her fingers come up to caress the splintering lip of the ancient well. It feels...empty, same as it always does when she comes in here. The sensation is akin to a sense of hollowness, that the shaft of negative space that runs down the well's center is truly all that's left of the magic that used to come alive for her. A silent sob wrenches down her throat, rendering her vulnerable to the torrent of emotion that swells in her. She let's each gasping breath tear her open, tear out all that's left of her. A sick relief floods her as the sorrow emerges fully and, as always, she crumbles to her knees under the burden of it.

Inuyasha...

Just saying his name, even in the privacy of her own mind, tares something vital out of Kagome's core. She hopes he knows, hopes that despite it all he knows that she is still his in every way a person could be. Disassembled and broken as she is, Kagome offers her anguish to the well praying that if it wouldn't return her to him, then it could at least take her devotion instead.

Carry it to him, remind him he's loved...

For a moment she considers descending the well and curling up at the bottom of it, willing her feelings to reach him, but the thought of her mother finding her like that again...she couldn't bare it. Her mom had been so heartbroken, so overwhelmed with worry when she found Kagome lying at the bottom of the well, cheek pressed to the dirt and eyes seeping tears that wouldn't stop. She wouldn't do that to her again. With that thought Kagome tries to rally herself, to yank her heart away from the addicting agony of missing him and prepares to push her mind into the nothingness she utilizes to numb the pain. She had allowed herself this much and it had to be enough for now, anymore and she'd send herself into a deeply harmful depressive state.

Kagome closes her eyes and uses the well to help heave herself to stand, movements slow and body sore, feeling like her limbs are made of lead. Before she turns to leave, Kagome grips the well as fiercely as she can with both hands. A feeling of intensity overtakes her in that moment and she's unable to think of anything but:

Inuyasha, Kagome declares to the emptiness of the well, I want to see you.

What happens next astounds her. Fate smiles in glee as -- finally -- the threads of time align and pull taught. A gentle breeze smelling of sunshine and wildflowers drifts up to Kagome, it's warm fingers brushing tenderly through the hair that hangs in her face. Kagome's eyes open with an audible gasp. Her heart blossoms because there, lying at the bottom of the well, is a cerulean sky -- a few wispy clouds floating lazily by. The sound of birds singing echoes up to her and suddenly, the Bone Eater's well bursts to life. Kagome is embraced by the energy of the well like an old friend as it resurrects in silent sparkling splendor around her. It soaks into her skin, her soul, filling her with hope instead of sorrow. It's pure life, and it beckons to her with such surety that it breaks Kagome's heart.

"Kagome?"

Her mother's voice forces a sharp exhale out of Kagome, she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Kagome can't look away from the impossible sky below her though, she's frozen in shock and wrestles with the possibility that this isn't a dream. She's had so many that happened just like this. Kagome...Kagome doesn't dare to hope...

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Higurashi asks as she makes her way down the stairs and comes to a stop behind Kagome, concern strangling the usual softness of her tone into an unsure waver.

"Mom," Is all Kagome is capable of saying, and it comes out in a hoarse terrified whisper.

Kagome hears her mother give a small gasp of disbelief, before Mrs. Higurashi steps up close beside her daughter and peers down the well too.

"The sky," Kagome hushes, still unable to fully accept what's happening but slowly becoming afraid that this will all be ripped from her. Again.  

A gentle hand wraps around her shoulders and pulls Kagome back from the ledge. Kagome lets her mother do this, lets herself lean into her mother's warmth in the face of all this crushing possibility.

"Mom I," Are the shaky words Kagome tries to preface her departure with, not sure what to even say -- lost in how she's meant to articulate the avalanche of emotion she's feeling. Because even if this is a dream she can't bare to wait any longer, she needs to know if...if maybe the well heard her and is by some miracle answering her prayers.

Mrs. Higurashi turns Kagome around to face her, hands soft as they frame her daughter's shoulders.

"Kagome," Her mother says her name and it holds all the world in it, Kagome looks up and is immediately swept away by the love in her mom's eyes. Mrs. Higurashi smiles at her then -- kind eyes closing on tears that are beginning to fall, and Kagome nearly collapses, "I understand."  

With a sob Kagome embraces her mother for the last time.

"Tell Sota and Grandpa that I love them," Kagome murmurs in a rush.

Her mother only squeezes her tighter and nods. They shake in each other's arms for another breath before both pulling away.

"I am so proud of you Kagome," Mrs. Higurashi says, voice trembling with emotion but warm, always so warm.

"I love you Mama," Kagome responds as tears begin to swell in her eyes.

"Give this to him for me," Her mother requests as she takes Kagome's face in her hands, and leans in close to press a searing kiss to her forehead.

"Oh Mama," Kagome weeps as her mother's love wraps around her heart and fills her with a kind of joy she hasn't felt in years.  

Mrs. Higurashi leans back a little and uses her thumbs to wipe the wetness off of Kagome's cheeks.

"Tell him that I love him, that I've always seen him as a son, and that I am proud to have him be apart of our family."

Kagome deteriorates into a watery mess as the sentiments her mother just shared wash over her. Wordlessly, Mrs. Higurashi helps her daughter climb up onto the lip of the well before they simply stare for a moment, taking each other in one more time. Then her mother bestows her one last parting gift.

"Live Kagome," Her mom hushes, fierce happiness triumphant in her voice, as she releases her daughter's hands and watches as she turns to leap down the well, body disappearing from sight moments later.

Goodbye Mama, Kagome calls back as she sinks into time.

Kagome relishes the sensations traveling through the well give her -- a fierce nostalgia gripping her chest at the bursts of cobalt light, the galactic vastness watching her fall past, the light at the bottom of the well welcoming her home...

When she lands on solid ground a part of her fears so intensely that she's still in her time, that she refuses to open her eyes. What if she were to look up and see her mother staring down at her? Kagome hesitates for a moment, eyes closed, standing so still, terrified that this isn't real, and then something throbs in her chest --

She feels him, feels his youki hurtling towards her and suddenly, Kagome is no longer afraid.

Inuyasha!

Kagome opens her eyes and squints at the sky above her, the breeze she felt earlier encouraging her towards her future. She makes it about three fourths of the way up the well when she hears him. The pounding of his feet against the earth as he races closer, his aura a brilliant thriving thing that feels like the sun against her skin. Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.

"Inuyasha," She says his name, says it just for him, and he inhales, "I'm so sorry, were you waiting here for me?"

Inuyasha's expression shifts and Kagome gasps softly at the chaos he's trying to contain, but then he says her name. Says it just for her.

"Kagome."

A wet laugh escapes her lips at the sound of his voice, at how she used to long to hear him say her name, just like that.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmurs again just because she can as her fingers play with the ends of his forelocks, eyes jumping all over his face trying to take in every part of him at once.

Unable to help herself, Kagome wraps both arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of his hair threading through her fingers, and presses her lips to his with a sigh. Inuyasha remains still for a moment, like his brain is one beat behind, before he clutches her to him so hard her lungs squeeze in her chest. Kagome doesn't care, in fact she doesn't feel like they're close enough. She wants to crawl her way into him and stay there forever, never to be separated again. The kiss feels like coming home, and it makes the part of her that sat empty for the past three years steadily fill. Inuyasha's lips are slightly chapped, she notes, and he kisses her like she's the only kind of devastation he'd willingly submit to. Impossibly, her love for him deepens further. Kagome pulls back with a gasp, trying to catch her breath as Inuyasha carefully sets her down on the ground, their lips brushing while the two of them tremble in the wake of such sweeping passion.

"Kagome," Inuyasha whispers her name again, like its the only word he knows, and dives back down to reclaim her lips.

She lets a soft noise shake loose from her chest when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his claws snagging on the material of her cardigan as he holds her close. Kagome feels a fang nip at her lower lip and, smiling into the kiss, she happily opens up for him. When their tongues meet, Inuyasha's hands raise to cup both sides of her jaw, mindful of his claws near such delicate skin. With something between a groan and a growl, he breaks their kiss to turn her head to the side, smoothing one reverent hand down the exposed length of her neck. Her heart beat picks up when in one long inhale, Inuyasha traces his nose in a steady line from her collarbone up to the patch of skin just below her ear. He makes a tender noise then, nearly a whine, and without preamble presses his face firmly into the arch of her neck, taking deep unhurried breaths through his nose. Kagome leaves one hand wrapped around the bulk of his shoulders, but brings the other one up to hold the back of his head in place against her. One of his ears flicks against her cheek and in a moment of raw delight, a giggle bubbles up from her throat as does a fresh wave of tears. Inuyasha flattens the offending ear against his skull but Kagome remains undeterred and drops a sweet kiss on to the delicate appendage, the soft fur tickling her lips a little. She holds him even closer as he melts against her at the intimate display of affection.

Oh kami she'd missed him so much.  

"Kagome!"

It takes a second for the two of them to come back down to earth, but the call of Shippo's voice encourages Kagome to turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Inuyasha makes a firm noise against the skin of her neck -- a warning, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He tenses when she ignores him and stiffens even further as Shippo continues to barrel closer. In the span of a heartbeat Inuyasha has Kagome behind him and lets a true growl rip from his throat. Kagome startles against his back, realizing belatedly that he'd just threatened Shippo.

--

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's words come out sounding like an odd mix of admonishment and worry.

Shippo looks genuinely shocked at being challenged with such a territorial threat display, having slid to an abrupt halt at Inuyasha's feet. Inuyasha comes back to himself after a few beats, brain catching up with his instincts, and his aggression falters.

"Slowly," Inuyasha grinds out as he steps to the side to allow Kagome to come forward, working furiously to relax his muscles.

Respecting Inuyasha's warning, Shippo moves very carefully towards Kagome, though he only manages to take two steps before Kagome is crashing to her knees and hauling him into her arms.

"Shippo!" She cries and Shippo immediately starts bawling.

The young kitsune grabs tuffs of her hair in his tiny fists and smashes his face into her neck, repeating her name over and over again unable to help himself. Inuyasha stiffens again at this, but grits his teeth against the instinct to tear the runt clean out of Kagome's arms. She wouldn't like that, and honestly neither would Inuyasha, he knows how much Kagome means to Shippo.

What's wrong with me?

"You, you made it back!" Sango bursts as her and Miroku catch up and come to a stop a few feet in front of them, kids in tow.

"It's been much too long Kagome!" Miroku calls in absolute astonishment.

"Miroku, Sango!" Kagome all but weeps as she rises from the ground, Shippo still held tight in her arms, and rushes to embrace them.

Inuyasha feels that angry tug in his gut again at the idea of so many scents polluting Kagome's skin so soon after getting her back, but the larger part of him can only smile as he watches his woman hug Sango then Miroku -- mindful of the kids in their arms and murmuring little 'hello's to them as well. He can smell the depth of their rapture as they all rejoice Kagome's return. It puts Inuyasha's heart into a state of profound contentment, and he realizes then that he's never felt this way before. Who knew anticipation could be a good feeling? Because damn was he ready to experience every single tomorrow with Kagome by his side.

--

The rest of the afternoon is spent celebrating. Kagome reunites with Kaede, the elder priestess nearly speechless with elation at seeing Kagome push aside the noren of her hut. To Kagome's surprise Rin is also there, the young girl delighted by Kagome's return as well, and hadn't hesitated to gush about how lonely Inuyasha was without her. Inuyasha had only shrugged at this, not denying it but still sent a betrayed glare Rin's way as color rose high on his cheeks. Kagome is welcomed back by the people of the village too, townsfolk she'd gotten to know during her time collecting jewel shards being especially pleased to see her, though they knew not where she'd gone. Kagome and Inuyasha stuck to each other like glue through it all, unwilling to part for even a moment. No one blamed them.

At one point Kagome started to panic because she had to pee of all things, and the thought of loosing sight of her hanyou if only for a minute terrified her. The fear that this was a dream kept gnawing at her, and the possibility that this could all be taken away at any moment made Kagome feel physically ill. She'd held it in as long as she could before walking nearly knock-kneed to relieve herself. It turned out Kagome needn't have worried at all because without a word Inuyasha had followed her, giving her true privacy for only as long as it took to empty her bladder before he was within her sights again. Kagome had blushed furiously when it occurred to her that him being so close while she used the bathroom probably meant that he could...smell it. When she tried to shoo him away he only stared at her, firmly shaking his head no once, and waited. After Kagome had finished she'd made her way back over to Inuyasha, feeling incredibly sheepish about the whole situation. The moment she was close enough though he'd pulled her into a desperate hug and whispered,

"Please bare with me Kagome, I-I can't..." He'd trailed off but Kagome was already hugging him back, refusing to let go. She understood.

They shared a grand feast with Sango and Miroku that evening, Kagome using the time to properly acquaint herself with their children. Shippo sat in her lap for most of the meal, and its as she stared at her friends -- her family, that Kagome realized that she'd been given something truly precious and everything in her vowed to never let it go. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, and the fear that this was temporary strangled her multiple times throughout the reunion. But Inuyasha was always right there beside her, and having him close ended up being the only way to ease the worst of her anxiety. After everyone finished their food and caught up on each other's lives as much as they could in one sitting (the serious questions being left for tomorrow), the pair said their goodbyes for the night. Shippo had fought to retire with Inuyasha and Kagome, but was stilled by Miroku's hand on his small shoulder. Kagome embraced Shippo before delivering a soft peck to his cheek, letting him nuzzle back for a beat or two more before promising to come back first thing in the morning.

Now Kagome and her hanyou are getting settled in a hut the villagers had built for Inuyasha that's set on the outskirts of the village. It's quite obvious to Kagome from the state of the place that Inuyasha hardly uses it, though she knows how lonely he gets by himself and she figures he probably spends most of his time with Sango and Miroku who live more centrally to the village. Inuyasha's hut is mounted at the peak of a sloping hill, the tallest in the surrounding area besides the shrine itself. At first she wondered if the villagers meant to ostracize Inuyasha by putting his hut so far from everyone else's, but as they reach the hill's zenith, she realizes it isn't a sign of disrespect but quite the opposite. The vista from his home has views of the entire village and even overlooks a decent portion of the forest. On the opposite side of the hut, miles of stunning countryside sprawls under the hazy light of the setting sun all the way to the horizon. Inuyasha would be able to spot danger days before it arrived, or gain minutes to whole hours of advantage if the threat was a youkai. The villagers aren't keeping him at a distance, they're treating him like their Lord, giving him the highest ground, the most control over the land -- trusting that he will use it to protect them. It makes Kagome's heart clench with raging pride.

"It's beautiful," Kagome finds herself murmuring as they stand side by side overlooking the village together, the wind shifting their hair about their shoulders.

"Yeah," Inuyasha says, sounding distracted.

His tone makes Kagome shift her gaze over to him but she finds that he's already staring at her. Before he would have turned away with a blush and started spouting some blistering nonsense in order to cover up the fact that he'd been caught, but now he lets himself look. It makes something in Kagome's lower stomach go tight. They take each other in for what feels like a bracketed infinity, the moment sacred somehow, and neither of them are willing to break it. Inuyasha takes a step closer and reaches his clawed hands down to gently collect her smaller ones. He brings her hands up to his chest, cradling them there, not once looking away from Kagome's eyes.

"I promise I'll protect you with my life." Inuyasha declares, his voice low and quiet and meant only for her.

Kagome takes an uneven inhale and her heart skips a beat as she realizes he's repeating the same vow he gave to her in her room the night her family was away at the hot springs all those years ago. It hits her then how utterly hers Inuyasha is, how devoted to her he was in the past and how he has remained that way since. It's his way of telling her nothing has changed. Inuyasha watches this epiphany play out on Kagome's face and his expression softens around the steadiness of his gaze.

"I will allow nothing to take you from me again, and I will never leave your side."

Shuddering in the wake of his oath, Kagome shuffles closer to him and finally says what she's always regretted never telling him directly.  

"I love you Inuyasha," She watches as his pupils drag wide at her confession, "You will always have me, and I will happily spend the rest of my life with you to prove that."

Inuyasha slowly lowers his head until their foreheads touch through the hair of their bangs, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. Kagome feels a wave of peace come over her then that she finds she's quite content to drown in. She stays like that with him for another moment before pulling away just enough to catch his eye.

"My mother," Kagome hushes and Inuyasha instantly stills, "She asked me to give this to you."

Exactly as her mom did, Kagome extracts her hands from Inuyasha's and reaches for his face, fingers tender as they slide against the warm skin of his jaw. Panic flits across Inuyasha's features then, startled at being handled like he was something precious, and realizing he's horrifically unprepared for whatever is about to come next. Kagome's smile is nothing but fond as she tilts his head down enough so that she's able to lean in and deliver her mother's kiss to his forehead. Inuyasha's hands come up to wrap around her forearms, not to move her away but, Kagome suspects, just to have something to hold on to. His ears flatten under the gravity of the gesture. Kagome closes her eyes and remains there for another beat, before pulling away and lifting his face back up only to touch the tip of her nose to his.

"She also wanted me to tell you that she loves you," She murmurs.

Inuyasha releases a wet sounding exhale and attempts to move away -- overwhelmed by the rawness of all of this, but Kagome holds his face firm and presses on, wanting desperately for him to hear the rest because he deserves to know.

"She said she has always seen you as a son, and is proud to consider you family."

"Kagome," Inuyasha begs, his voice a wobbling mess as he nuzzles closer in defeat, unable to stand the depth of Mrs. Higurashi's gift to him.

After a long moment of them just breathing, he shifts his head and quietly slots their lips together. He releases his grip on her forearms so he can snake his arms around her middle, hands wrapping as far across her back as possible, before pulling her flush against him. Inuyasha keeps the kiss chaste -- utterly humbled. Kagome can only imagine what this must mean to him, and she hazards her mother must have known too.

They stay joined under the warm evening sky as the stars begin to shine through dusk's heavy golden canopy. The sun finally sinks all the way under the horizon, having delayed itself in order to cast as much light as possible onto the pair standing atop the hill -- presenting fate's masterful work to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind picks up around them, and it causes the two to sway a little. Hands clutching tight, lips molding softly, and hair floating around their heads as if submerged in deep water, they know nothing in that moment except each other.

Somewhere far beyond this world, a priestess -- no, an ordinary woman, looks down on Inuyasha and Kagome and smiles.

--

Kagome arranges the light summer quilt Sango lent her over the futon set in the back corner of Inuyasha's hut. She would have to do something (many somethings) in order to make this place livable. A shy glee erupts in her chest at the thought of decorating it, organizing a home for both her and Inuyasha to live in felt surreal to consider even in her own head. She used to daydream about this kind of thing, the fact that she finally gets to fulfill her fantasy -- that it's her life now, takes her breath away.

"Inuyasha?" She calls once she's finished fussing with the quilt, folding one corner down, ready to get into bed.

The hut is dark, the night outside is still, and the fireplace remains unlit so they don't overheat. Kagome tries to swallow the fear cloying up her throat. Ever since she spent a small eternity trapped in endless darkness with the Jewel of Four Souls, she finds she can no longer stand to be alone in the dark. Back in her time, it had to be either her mom, Sota, or Buyo sleeping beside her each night or she wouldn't be able to get any rest at best, and at worst she would descend into an anxiety attack. It wasn't until her grandfather had suggested installing a night light that she was finally able to brave the long nights alone, though she still prefers to have a warm body to cuddle. It was in moments like those that she'd longed for Shippo the most. Once she'd been able to sleep on her own she had the nightmares to contend with, and those always left her feeling as close to true panic as she'd felt when facing Naraku. There are no night lights in the Feudal Era, but Kagome figures she'll be okay as long as she has Inuyasha with her.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome says again, this time unable to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

In an instant she feels a rush of air hit her as he drops to a crouch beside her, like he'd bolted to her from across the room.

"Kagome? What's wrong?"

She melts into him and he accepts her weight against his chest easily, strong arms shifting forward to box her in.

"Where were you?" Kagome hopes she doesn't sound as small as she feels.

Inuyasha stills against her for a beat before wrapping his arms around her completely, securing her in his embrace. Kagome accepts this improvement with a grateful sigh.

"Just checking the window." He pauses, then very carefully, asks, "Is...are you alright?"

He sounds worried, crap.

Kagome feels a stab of guilt for freaking him out.

"I'm fine," Kagome assures quickly, "Just, um, I-I'm ready for bed."

Cringing internally, Kagome wonders if that was convincing enough. With that sharp nose of his, she hopes he doesn't pick up on her lingering (but quickly diminishing) fear. How on earth could she convince him to sleep on the futon with her? Surely he won't object? Not after everything that happened between them today?

"Okay, well, I'll uh see you in the morning then," Inuyasha stutters as he begins to untangle himself from her and pull away --

Kagome's panic skyrockets, and before she can say or do anything, Inuyasha must smell the spike in her fear because he immediately winds himself back around her body.

"Woah hey," He hushes, becoming even more alarmed as Kagome all but crawls into his lap.

"I-I can't be alone, at night," Kagome struggles to explain as she takes shelter in his renewed embrace, "The darkness it --,"

She cuts herself off when she feels Inuyasha pillow his cheek against the soft hair at the top of her head.

"I'll hold you till you fall asleep then," He promises in a soft voice, as soft as she's ever heard him speak.

She can feel his words vibrate through his chest, and it calms her nerves some. Kagome wants to argue, wants to push for more -- sleep beside me, hold me all night -- but she doesn't. He doesn't seem to want that, even after promising her he'd never leave her side. Kagome's anxiety gets the better of her and it seals her lips shut. She settles in the circle of his arms and is resolved to be satisfied with this, at least for now, knowing she's much too shaken to negotiate with him tonight. Kagome knows without a shadow of a doubt that she'll wake up the moment he sets her down on the futon, but she doesn't tell him that. Hopefully she can fake being asleep well enough to fool his hanyou senses, and hopefully the knowledge that he's nearby will be enough to stop her from having a full blown episode. If she can hang on till the early hours of the morning, maybe the fragile rays of first light will be enough to cling to. Kagome can admit to herself that she won't be able to maintain this routine for long, but she hopes it lasts until she's plucked up the courage to ask Inuyasha, point blank and without room for misinterpretation, to share her bed.

--

Inuyasha knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, no way would he risk making Kagome vulnerable to any kind of attack so soon after getting her back. His instincts wouldn't have allowed for any other course of action, and on this front Inuyasha is in rare agreement with his youkai half. But he doesn't expect Kagome to share the same determination. He'd panicked earlier when he smelled how fast and how sharply her fear had spiked. Inuyasha vowed to himself at that moment to never allow her to feel that way in his presence again, not if he could help it. She had held on to him so fiercely, and still is even after hours of being in the safety of his arms. Its like she's afraid he'll leave again. This knowledge makes something in his chest shatter and his gut ache. Unable to stop himself, he rubs his cheek where it rests against the top of her head and takes a deep inhale, letting her scent soothe him. Each time he hears her heartbeat slow and she starts to drift off, he waits a few minutes before trying to lay her down on the futon. Without fail though she's yanked back from sleep every time, as if his touch is vital in order for her to rest. A part of him relishes in this level of dependency on him, his youkai half preening at the fact that his mate --

Inuyasha grunts and stands, unwilling to entertain any thoughts about that, and makes his way swiftly out of the hut and into the mild night. He's careful not to jostle Kagome in his arms too much as he lowers into a measured crouch, and launches himself into the air towards the roof. Landing effortlessly on the balls of his feet, Inuyasha pauses as Kagome sighs in her sleep and twists her fists tighter into the material of his han-juban. Inuyasha blushes to himself thinking about how he had all but tripped out of the hut earlier when Kagome started changing out of her day clothes and into a yukata Sango had lent her in front of him.

With a firm shake of his head he banishes that particular train of thought from his mind, and lowers himself down to sit on the angled roof. After a minute of cautious shifting, he gives up and lies flat on his back, arranging Kagome's sleep-pliant body so she's tucked snuggly between his arm and his side. He tells himself this is different than sleeping on the futon with her, that this isn't breaking any 'rules of propriety' Kagome used to always yell at him about.

Screw it, he thinks, if I get sat for this in the morning it will have been worth it.

Inuyasha tries not to think about how much he sounded like Miroku just now, and grumbles under his breath about stupid delinquent monks and confusing female sensibilities.  

The stars are a dizzying pattern above him, the moon is a sliver in the sky, and Kagome is curled safely into his side with her cheek squished against his chest while one of her leanly muscled arms has thrown itself securely across his waist -- Inuyasha couldn't feel more at peace if he tried. Everything is as it should be. He hasn't felt rightness like this since...well, since Kagome left three years ago. A cool evening breeze floats over them then, shooing away the insistent press of the summer heat, and kisses their temples before moving on. Inuyasha lazily picks apart the different scents the wind carried -- sap from the trees in the forest, ash from the chimneys in the village, wet earth from the banks of the nearby river...he lets it all wash over him, one sensation at a time. He remembers Kagome caught him doing this once years ago, and when she'd asked him about it he'd told her it was kind of like how humans count sheep when trying to fall asleep. A self-soothing exercise is what she concluded it was similar too. Inuyasha didn't elaborate that the habit was an old one he'd developed during his childhood. Back when he was too weak to fight any of the youkai that hunted him, he'd find somewhere to hide and rock himself in time with his breaths, carefully combing through the scents in the air until he was sure the threat had passed. There had been a brief pause before Kagome asked what he could smell, no judgment or disgust, just innocent curiosity and a hint of fascination simmering in the umber of her eyes. No one had ever asked him about his sense of smell like that before. Inuyasha's heart had clenched in his chest, and it does so now as the memory unfolds before him only this time without the promise of pain. Reliving cherished moments of his time with Kagome used to only bring him anguish, but now...

Inuyasha turns his face into Kagome's hairline that's level with his nose, flares his nostrils, and proceeds to take a sleepy inhale. Her scent shoots straight up into his head and a sensation that feels bizarrely like dizziness makes his skull feel light, and his mind feel like its floating. Inuyasha attempts to turn away once the moment passes, but his body refuses to comply. Instead, before he really knows what he's doing, Inuyasha finds himself nosing down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, past her slightly parted lips, and under her jaw. Kagome mutters something unintelligible in her sleep in response to all of his tender nudging (Inuyasha resolutely ignores the way it makes all of his insides go soft), but ultimately allows her chin to be directed up, exposing her neck to him. Something in Inuyasha flares hot at the action, and he's instantly compelled to guide his nose into the notch of skin between her neck and her jaw. This is what he'd been searching for.

Safe, something inhuman in his head rumbles, only here is safe.

Inuyasha couldn't agree more, Kagome had always been ineffable to him. He had known Kagome by her scent before he'd known her by her features, it's what first caught his attention when Kikyo's spell keeping him pinned to Goshinboku started to falter. Inuyasha hadn't realized it then, but he'd belonged to Kagome the moment she'd told him her name. Inuyasha smiles like a complete love-struck idiot as he remembers the way she had puffed out her chest and demanded that he say her name right.

Ka - Go - Me!

He allows himself to continue grinning like a fool against the skin of her neck because no one's around to mock him for it, and because it feels good to be happy. He's happy --

"Inuyasha..." Kagome suddenly hums, his name on her lips the sweetest thing he'll ever hear.

Inuyasha pulls his face back just far enough to take in her expression, and something glorious surges in him when he finds that she's smiling in her sleep.

--

Phew that was hella soft lol, lemme know what you thought down in the comments below if you'd like! I embellished certain moments a little bit to make them more dramatic bc i couldn't help myself, i hope you didn't mind! Tbh it felt so good to write inukag, like im not gonna lie, I grew up watching the show and it feels a little like coming home to get into these characters' heads. Ok I'm gonna go continue my re-watch of the show now xxx

Masterlist

[spookysanta]

e. a.

Summary: Ethan and Ari—the best of friends. (Or, “how Ethan parents when (Y/N) isn’t around”)

Pairing: Dad!Ethan Dolan xReader

WARNINGS: literally you’ll be smothered with fluff

this is my first full-length dad!efeet fic. damn. ANYWAY i’m writing other shit don’t ask when it’ll be up bc idk!! :)

UNEDITED.

***

Listen. No one’s gonna ever deny this fact, but the Dolan boys love their kids more than anything. Their little girls are the best thing that’d ever happened to them. Ethan thinks his little girl is the best of all the little girls that ever existed, and Grayson would argue that logic with him for hours. But the fact is that they’re both pretty great.

Arielle’s getting to the age where her daddy is her favorite person and object. Person, because duh, it’s her daddy; and object, because she uses him as a vessel for her entertainment: she climbs his body, she jumps on his lap, and, her favorite thing to do, pull on his hair.

He doesn’t like any of these things but they keep the otherwise loud child quiet so he doesn’t complain much.

She likes to spend time with Ethan because she gets aways with doing things her mom wouldn’t let her do. Things like jumping on the bed, or eating on the couch.

But her favorite thing to do was drinking daddy’s soda.

She’s almost four now, so she’s got a bit more of a vocabulary and can communicate what she wants better. And that’s gotten Ethan into trouble a couple times, like today, because when he was drinking a cup of Sprite and let out a nice “ahhh” after a big gulp, she somehow knew that that’s the sound he makes when he drinks soda. And Arielle now loves soda (because of Ethan). So she says, “Daddy, I want soda.”

And of course, it’ll happen when (Y/N)’s around and naturally she’ll look at him. Why would Arielle know about soda if she can’t read and they don’t keep soda in the house?

And then that becomes a whole thing between the parents, but the little girl doesn’t care at all, because all that matters right now is daddy’s soda. “Daddy,” Arielle said again from the backseat as they drove to the (Y/L/N) family reunion one afternoon, completely ignoring (Y/N)’s scolding of her husband. “I want soda.”

“Just wait, Ari,” he replied, also ignoring his wife.

“No!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Don’t give her soda! It’ll give her cavities.”

“Oh my God, (Y/N). It’s one sip, she’ll be fine.” The streetlight turned red and Ethan stopped the car, putting the gear in “neutral” and grabbing the large cup of Sprite from the cupholder and reaching behind the seat to put the straw to Ari’s lips. “Here, bubby.”

She took a big sip, Ethan having to pull the cup away so he could drive once the light turned green. She shivered. “Ooh, daddy, mommy! It’s cold soda!”

And (Y/N) had to admit, that was cute. She chuckled. “Yeah, bug?”

“Mhm. It’s spicy, too.”

Ethan snorted. “Spicy?”

“Uh-huh.”

***

In the mornings, Ethan’s job is to get Ari dressed and clean and ready for the day, so that when (Y/N) got back from work they could all do things together as a family. So when she wakes up ungodly late (inherited from her daddy), the first thing they do together is—“Potty!”

Ethan jumped awake. This morning, she’d gotten up early, managed to get out of her crib and get into her mommy and daddy’s room. “Ari?” He responded, because surely their toddler couldn’t’ve gotten out of her crib and bedroom by herself. But she had, and she was particulary proud of herself that she did. “What’s wrong?”

“Potty, daddy.” She whispered. Because when someone’s sleeping you have to be quiet. “Gotta go potty.”

He stood up from the bed, picking up the little girl who was wearing her mommy’s high school P.E. t-shirt, and carried her to the bathroom, escorting her to her potty and letting her do her business.

“Finished.” She mumbled after a yawn.

“C’mon, come wash your hands.”

“Kay.” She got up and went to the sink, stepping up on the Dora stepstool and washing her hands with the foaming hand soap. When she finished washing her hands, she left the bathroom and climbed up onto her mommy and daddy’s bed and laid down with her bum in the air, as she’s always done since Ethan could remember.

He cleaned out her potty and set it back on the floor next to the shower. After washing his hands, he came back into the room and got back into bed, pulling the covers over Ari’s body and his own.

“Daddy.” She mumbled, voice muffled by the cotton pillowcase her head was stuffed into. “I’m tired.”

“So go back to sleep.” He replied with a chuckle. “We don’t have to go anywhere until mommy gets back from work.”

“And then what?”

“And then we’ll—can you get your head out of the pillow? You sound like you’re about to suffocate.” She sat up and flopped over onto her back, resting her folded hands on her tummy like Ethan was. “We’re gonna go to Uncle Gray’s house for dinner.”

“Will GiGi be there?”

Oh Lord, Ethan thought. GiGi and Ari together were a dynamic duo; they did everything together. Whenever Gray or his wife would take GiGi to the park, they’d call Ethan and (Y/N) so that Ari could come along. He’d be more ecstatic about letting her go with his brother if it wasn’t at nine a.m. and he didn’t have to fight with her to get up. “Yeah.”

“And Grant?” Grant, the newest addition to the Dolan family, had the most empathy from Ethan. Because he was only a few months old, he was a spectacle for Ari because “babies look weird” according to her.

He agrees with that logic, but since he’s had a kid, he doesn’t say it out loud anymore.

When Ari’s there and Grant’s awake, she liked to poke him cheecks and tummy and squeeze his nose. Ethan doesn’t know why, (Y/N) doesn’t know why, and Grayson and his wife don’t know why. Hell, GiGi doesn’t know why.

But she does, because in her mind, he’s squishy—and you poke squishy things, don’t you?

And there’s the almighty statement that emerges from her mouth after they’d left and were on the way home. “Daddy, I want a baby brother.”

The first time she’d said that (Y/N) choked on her coffee.

And (Y/N) and Ethan had made a pact since before they got married. “One kid.” She told him when they decided to try for a baby. “That’s it. If we get lucky and have twins, great, but I’m only going through this pregnancy thing once.”

And Ari voicing her want for a baby brother (an alien in her eyes) was right around the time Grant was about to be born. And he thought, well, maybe if I take her to the delivery room and she’s reminded of what having a newborn was like, maybe she’ll want another kid.

That didn’t happen.

He tried though.

***

“Daddy,” Ari grumbled when she was awoken from her nap on the couch. “Daddy, I want apple.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” She let him—emphasis on let him; she does not like to be bothered when she’s woken up—pick her up and take her to the kitchen. He set her in her chair, going into the refrigerator and grabbing the container of apple slices that he’d cut yesterday for this specific moment. He made sure the peel of the slices were removed, putting them on a plate and setting them in front of her. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome, bubs.”

They sat in the kitchen in a comfortable silence, him just being there so she wouldn’t worry about where he is—because that happens a lot more than you’d think. “Daddy?”

“Hm?” He looked up from an article he was reading on Buzzfeed. “What’s up?”

“I wanna watch tv.”

He’s not supposed to let her watch tv while she eats because she gets distracted easily, according to (Y/N). But she was at work, and what she won’t know won’t kill her. So he took the plate and the kid and sat down on the couch, putting her in his lap and letting her lean into his warmth. He turned on Blue’s Clues, which, as he’d learned from watching, was nothing like the version he grew up on. He didn’t complain though, because she was quiet and content and was actually not distracted for once.

(Y/N) got home from work about forty minutes later, unlocking the door and calling out a “hello?” into the atmosphere of the house. She didn’t get a response, though she saw Ethan’s truck in the driveway. She walked further into the house and entering the living room she could’ve died at the sight.

Ethan was slouched on the couch with Ari laid across his body, a protective arm around her while she hugged him. Her head was tucked into his chin, a thumb in her mouth. (Y/N) took notice of the two of them sleeping soundly, taking a blanket off the back of the recliner and draping it over them. She decided to join them a bit later after she’d had a chance to decompress from a stressful day.

As she walked toward the steps, she’d heard him groan—a telltale sign that he was waking up. She couldn’t even count the amount of times she’d been woken up by the loud grunts of Ethan Dolan. “Baby?” He mumbled, eyes halfway opened.

“Hey, hun.” She crept her way back to where they were, pecking his lips and peppering kisses on Ari’s cheek. “Just got in.”

“Okay. ‘M gonna wake her in a few, she must’ve dozed off.”

“And I wonder who she got that from, Mr. Lazy Bones.”

“Ha-ha.”

***

“Daddy, I don’t wanna go to bed.”

“For the last time: no Disney tomorrow if you don’t go to bed. I mean it.”

He didn’t mean that.

He’d take her to the moon if she really wanted him to; but someone has to have the authority, because (Y/N) says he’s just as much of a kid as their daughter is. “No Disney tomorrow if you don’t lay down and go to sleep.”

“Can I sleep in your bed?”

He sighed. This always happens when she’s trying to prolong sleep: she’ll whine and complain about how she doesn’t want to go to bed, then she’ll get in Ethan and (Y/N)’s bed and be asleep in ten minutes. “Ari, when are you gonna sleep in your own bed?”

“I do!”

“No, no. When are you going to sleep in your bed without sleeping in mommy and daddy’s?”

“Oh... I dunno. But you keep the bad dreams away.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kept holding her in his arms, feeling her body begin to settle. “They don’t like you.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think they’ll want your big, scary dad to get them, huh? Same with the boogey man.”

She nodded quietly, letting out a soft yawn. “Sleep in your bed? Just for a little bit?”

“Alright, fine.” He carried her into his bedroom, setting her in the middle of the bed, next to (Y/N), who would wonder why Ari was there but already knowing the answer, she didn’t say anything. He took up the rest of the space, letting the sleepy toddler climb over him like she usually does. One would think she’d grow tired of sleeping on her daddy’s (hairy) chest so often, but he assumes that she sleeps the soundest when she’s with him. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” She hummed with her thumb in her mouth. She pulled it out to say a, “Comfy, cozy.”

“Good.” He pulled the covers up over the three of them, (Y/N) turning off the lamp on the nightstand and keeping the tv on. “Goodnight, my sweet girls.”

“Goodnight daddy!” mumbled the child.

“Goodnight, daddy.” (Y/N) cooed in his ear seductively, kissing the lobe before laying down to sleep.

He cut her a glare, as if to remind her that there was a child laying across his body and to not awaken anything within him. He allowed himself to get comfortable, watching bits and pieces of Family Guy to keep him entertained as he tried to doze off. But about ten minutes later, instead of hearing snores, he heard in a quiet voice:

“Daddy, I’m thirsty.”

“You want some water?”

“No, daddy. I want some soda.”

He glanced over at his wife who was sleeping soundly, then looked down at the little girl that made his heart flutter. “You know you’re bot supposed to have any soda, especially not this late.”

“But daddy, I just want a little bit.”

He had to give in.. his little girl was dying of thirst, he had no choice! “Fine. Let’s get some soda.”

He took her down to the kitchen, setting her on the counter by the fridge. Then he opened the fridge, taking out the half-empty bottle of Sprite he’d just-so-happened to have stored, getting a straw out the drawer, and holding the straw to her lips.

She swallowed happily, a satisfied ahhhh leaving her lips. She giggled. “Mm. I like soda.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded gleefully. “Yeah.”

“Is it spicy, bubby?”

“Yeah. It’s spicy.”

He had to laugh. He put the soda away, taking Ari back downstairs and laying her back down. “Okay. Now, bed.”

“Okay daddy.” She kissed his cheek, cold lips buttoned against his beard. “Love you.”

“I love you too, princess.”

[sophia1644]

Stuck With Me

Pairing: Nolan x Reader (yes ty for the request)

Warnings: angst, sad lil bean Nolan (I’m weeping), Dom!Nolan at the end ;), fluffy fluff throughout, no smut but sort of heated at the end

Summary: Nolan’s anxiety leads him to believe that Y/N will be torn away from him, and that’s the very last thing he wants to happen, because he doesn’t know if he could even live without his girl.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I honestly love froy sm like I recently found out that he’s the sweetest person in the whole world and he speaks fluid Spanish?? that’s hot af and he cares abt mental awareness and all this other stuff and oh, did I mention, hE HAS THE SAME MUSIC TASTE AS ME!! that’s so hard to find in a guy bc they all like rap nowadays and oh now I’m talking to much… ok enjoy this fluffiness

.

.

I turn the key in the ignition, turning off the car and opening the door, my boyfriend doing the same. I round the vehicle, Nolan clasping his hand into mine as we walk towards the school building together. As we near closer, Nolan groans, readjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and turning to face me, obvious distress splaying over his features. He stops walking and so do I, standing in the midst of the bustling parking lot, filled to the brim with high school students. Nolan takes both my hands in his, biting his lip as he searches around the area restlessly, looking for something or maybe even someone. I place my hand gently on his cheek, his attention bouncing back to me. “Nolan, what’s wrong?” I query as his eyes travel downwards to our interlocked fingers. He doesn’t answer me, muttering something under his breath and shaking his head, then his eyes widening and fixating on something behind me. I turn to see Scott McCall and Liam Dunbar talking to one another I’m hushed voices, glancing towards our direction a couple times. Nolan takes me by the hand, dragging me into the school as quickly as he can manage, avoiding the five feet radius of where Scott and Liam were standing. We stop in front of one of our hiding spots, a place where we met during class if something was wrong or even if we just missed one another. I swing open the door to the empty closet, pushing him in and locking the door behind me, annoyed with not understanding the situation. “Nolan, baby, you have to tell me what’s going on,” I whisper, both of my hands resting behind his neck. He sighs, ruffling the blonde hair atop his head and looking into my eyes with his beautiful blue ones. “You already know all the Monroe stuff…” I nod, knowing how scared he got over the supernatural stuff happening in town recently, sparking his anxiety. “Well, I’m trying to help Scott’s pack, but-” “Woah, woah, woah,” I say, interrupting him. “You’re doing what? Nolan, I don’t want you to get into this any deeper than you already are. I want you to focus on getting out of all this, not throwing yourself in the middle.” His hands land on my hips, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of my jeans. “I know, it’s just I can’t stand helping Monroe anymore, when Scott and them are good people.”

“Nolan, you have to get out.” “But Monroe will kill me,” he nearly shouts, but I muffle him with the palm of my hand. He backs up into a wall, slumping against it and sitting down, bringing his knees to his chest and hugging them. “I don’t want to die,” he says, his voice breaking between syllables. I immediately drop to my knees, throwing my bag aside and kneeling in front of him. “Baby, baby, baby, you’re not going to die,” I say, grasping his face in my hands again, and planting a quick kiss against his lips. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything ever happen to you.” He bites his quivering lip, nodding hesitantly while I wrap my arms around his torso, moving his legs down gently and sitting on his lap to get as close as possible to him. He rests his chin on the top of my head, hugging me tightly and kissing my hair. The shrill noise of the bell sounds shortly after a few minutes, bringing us back to the reality that is high school. I stand up first, brushing off my jeans and flipping my hair back behind my shoulders, then giving a hand to Nolan to help him up as well. He smiles at me, taking my hand and brushing it against his lips lovingly, then getting up.

We swing our bags back on and he turns the knob to the door to leave, but I grab his forearm, stopping him. I press my lips against his one last time, kind of shocking him a bit, until he relaxes, sinking into it. “I love you,” he says, his hot breath hitting my lips. “I love you too, Nolan.” . I rub my eyes, yawning as I look down at the book I was reading, closing it and setting it down on my bedside table. I pull on the chain connected to my bedside lamp, the light flickering off. I lay down, pulling the cotton sheets over me and closing my eyes. Not even after two seconds, my phone rings and I know exactly who it is, due to the personalized ring tone. I roll over, grabbing my phone and sitting back up. I tap on the screen and answer the call, my chest hurting at the whimpers coming through the receiver. “Y/N,” Nolan’s voice comes out as a whisper and every single muscle in my body tenses, concern washing over me. “Can I c-come over?” “Of course, Nolan,” I respond quickly, hoping he’ll get here as fast as possible, so I can just hug him and talk out whatever what was on his mind at this time of night. “I’ll see you soo-soon,” he musters to say, hanging up the phone, after I hear a sniffle.

Twenty minutes later, he’s at my window. Thank god my room was on the first floor, because we had a lot of impromptu meetings like these. He knocks on the window lightly, and I bolt out of bed, gripping the bottom of the glass pane and pulling upwards. “I’m s-sorry for waking yo-you up, but I just needed, um, to talk to you,” he says, and I don’t fail to notice his tear-stained cheeks and his red eyes contrasting the dark puffy bags under them. His blonde hair is disheveled and sticking up in all directions, his hands probably been playing with the strands in hopes of calming himself down, something he did more often than not. “I’m always up for you, Nolan,” I whisper, moistening my chapped lips and pulling him into my room. I engulf him in a bearhug, giving him a peck on his wet cheek. Without any reluctancy, his arms encircle my waist, pulling me deeper into the fabric of his grey sweatshirt. I slowly tug him towards my bed for him to sit down and spill whatever was on his mind. He complies, sitting on top of the covers and just as I’m about to sit beside him, he murmurs a ‘no’ so quietly that I barely hear. He pats his lap and I quirk a brow at him, but he nods his head firmly, confirming what he wants. And how could I say no to him? Especially, right now? I straddle his legs, my hands combing through his hair and scratching his scalp to help calm him down. His fingers land on my thighs, his eyes watching every movement as he traces my stretch marks with a feather touch. I wait for him to speak first, occupying myself with the golden locks and not wanting to rush him into explaining what was on his mind.

He eventually stops making shapes along my thighs with his fingers, his eyes finding mine, a slight tiny of red still coating them. “I was thinking about Monroe earlier and I’ve been getting some anxiety because of it,” he says with more composure than he spoke with earlier. I nod along, sad about the idea of him undoubtedly curled up in a ball and crying over something like this that he had no control over. My instincts take over at the saddening thought and I take his hands in my own, bringing them to my lips to pepper with kisses. He smiles half-heartedly at my affection, then continues. “Earlier today, I said I was afraid of dying and honestly I am and that’s half of my fears, but mostly… I’m afraid of losing you in any way, shape, or form. Just the thought of me getting torn away from you or especially you getting torn from me, I just, I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know if I cou-could live without you, Y/N.” The second his voice starts breaking, I break down too, my eyes watering at the words slipping from his mouth. “Don’t say that, Nolan. Baby, you’d have an amazing life with or without me,” I correct. Teardrops threaten to fall down his face, barely balancing on his lower lashes. “Bu-ut, I can’t imagine a life wi-without you, Y/N.” I raise my hand, brushing away the tears blurring my vision and the ones now fallen onto his cheeks. “Nolan, I promise I will be in your life. I promise I’ll be in your life for as long as I possibly can and we’ll have an amazing family and kids and you’ll be an amazing dad and-” “You’ll be an amazing m-mom too and wife,” he adds, the corners of his lips moving up at the notion. “Yes, we’ll both be amazing parents with amazing lives, and it’ll all just be amazing.” He frowns again, a pout also forming onto my lips unintentionally at the sight. “But, you can’t promise that, Y/N. I might die or you mi-might die.” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into the crook of my shoulder. “No, I refuse to believe that. I believe that everything happens for a reason and us meeting each other isn’t the end. I found the love of my life and now you’re stuck with me. You hear? You’re never getting rid of me, Nolan.” I pull back, placing my hands on his cheeks again and forcing him to look me in the eyes. The eyes I’d feel honored to stare into for the rest of my existence. “Okay, then you better learn how to deal with me,” he jokes, his frown diminishing by the minute. I laugh, the action causing him to really smile for the first time in the last hour. “It’d be my pleasure to deal with you, Mr. Holloway.” I lean in, Nolan taking no time to get the hint. I squeal as he picks me up abruptly and throws me onto the bed, his dominant side contrasting the previous version of himself that just spilled his guts to me. He climbs over me, hovering above my body, only an inch or two separating us. He bites his bottom lip seductively, his eyes flashing to my lips. He bends down, our mouths finally touching, the taste of salt from our tears prominent as I swipe my tongue over his lips. “Can I stay over?” Nolan asks, before proceeding to take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. “Anything for you. I’m stuck with you, remember?” “Get used to it.”

[lafillederenard]

all the questions!

Thank you, Kate! I’ve been going through these slowly for a while now. Here are the first 50 questions to the ask post found here: x

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

I pour more milk than is needed and feel wasteful when there’s milk leftover in the bowl. Sometimes I drink the milk and feel better. Usually I don’t even eat cereal though? I’m a wakey wakey eggs and bakey gal.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

Love that crisp cold winter air! Sure would like to feel it sometime soon! Right now at school, it’s almost like I can feel the weather slowly shifting to cold winter air weather.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I often just use scraps of paper that are handy. I’ll use a pen or pencil if I’m switching between reading and writing. And I’ve used my phone a couple of times.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

I like really sweet and flavored drinks when going out for either. For coffee from scratch, I like to add a lot of creamer, preferably flavored.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

I used to be more so before. Now, not so much, but it has become a habit for me to smile with a closed mouth for pictures.

6: do you keep plants?

I try to, but it never seems to end well. 2 of my 4 succulents I had in my dorm room were stolen recently when I left them out. The other two I’ve been ignoring. I’m much better at taking care of my virtual plants on the app Viridi.

7: do you name your plants?

I’ve named a couple of my real plants, but I don’t really care to for the most part. Most of my plants in Viridi have a stupid meme name.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Music and writing. I haven’t been journaling as often as I used to, but I still consider it a big way I like to process my emotions: by writing down as much as I can.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Yeah. I get self-conscious though, sometimes even when no one is around to hear.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

I like to sleep on my stomach, and can pretty much only fall asleep that way. But I sometimes switch to my side during the night.

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

I don’t know if I can think of anything specifically that actually really applies so I’m just gonna pick some stuff…. High school friends will probably laugh if I mention how we all agree I have pretty good aim with my vomit….and college friends, well they call me the Cheese-It Harpy. Friends, let me know if you’re reading this and you think of something else.

12: what’s your favorite planet?

I don’t have a favorite planet. I’m very appreciative of space and I know basic astrology with the planets, but somehow I just don’t have a fave.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I did my friend’s hair up pretty and she liked it and another friend liked it.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

It’s gonna have vines on the walls outside and there’s a courtyard maybe and the apartment will have yellow painted walls and the window will look out over the street and we’ll put up lots of string lights and small plants. I really want to make those tiny tiny gardens with the little benches in them and stuff. And the kitchen sink will usually have dishes in it bc I’m/we’re not people who wash our dishes right away. There will be original and purchased art on the walls.

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

So apparently CalTech astronomers think there might be a big planet way out past Pluto, technically in our solar system.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

UM I love all pasta but I will pick lasagna as my favorite almost all the time. I really love a baked ziti covered in mozzarella tho

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

So I don’t really want to dye my hair, but if I did, legit I would want it to be opalescent (silvery-white with pastel colors). Opals are my birthstone, and you bet that my hair would look like that if I was a Crystal Gem. But I don’t really think I’d be able to pull that off irl.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

So yeah, so my CV squad is always gonna remember me throwing up into the cup holder of the RENTAL car. My college friends…there’s probably so many but I’m blanking and can only think of when I spilled the cappuccino….or when I was tired and they put plastic lizards on my head and I got emotional bc I felt loved LOL. Idk help me out here guys Idk why I’m forgetting. I need to write down more of the things I do.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I keep a writing journal at all times, and it’s basically a regular journal/diary where I write what happened, how I’m feeling.I also have a gratitude journal. I try to write in there as often as I can about things I am grateful for on that particular day, like compliments I may have received, or nice things that happened.

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

Brown. Almost everyone I’ve ever crushed on has had brown eyes. Brown eyes are beautiful!

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

Favorite bag??? I don’t use bags, lol. I got my backpack. I’m not terribly attached to it.

22: are you a morning person?

Nope! My sleep schedule may be really messed up, but either way, I love being up and doing things at night. I really like to take my time waking up in the morning; I’m pretty slow about it.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

The thing I usually end up doing is bumming around the computer, tumblr and all. My favorite thing, though, would probably be to watch a really good movie or two, or to gather a pile of books and read through them all, like I used to do when I was little. I also really like to sleeeeeeep

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Not really. There are some things that I just don’t talk about with anyone.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

I’ve broken into very few places. One of them is the toilet paper dispenser in the slightly scary bathroom downstairs in the campus center.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

This is basically all my shoes, as I kinda just find one pair of shoes I really like, and wear them every day until they get destroyed. I really liked my San Antonio Shoes that I wore to band. Several people complimented me on them. They seemed to fit really great. They were some good shoes. If I ever have the money, I might buy another pair sometime. The pair I had were bought ridiculously under-priced at a thrift store.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

I really like fruity gum. Fruit Stripe is my favorite chewing gum, but my favorite legit bubble-blowing bubblegum is the cotton candy bubblicious. It’s blue and super sugary and I have distinct memories of times when I chewed it, or wanted to be chewing it but was chewing something else, lol

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunset is my favorite time. Since I do a lot at night, it’s not really a sad symbol of my day ending, but the night beginning. Whereas if I am seeing the sunrise, that probably means I’ve stayed up all night, which probably was questionably smart to do….

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

I have a friend who kisses my hand to show affection, and I think it’s really cute and nice.

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

I’ve never had any bone-chilling moments — no ghosts, home intruders, etc. But I have been genuinely scared of whether or not me and my family would be okay.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I don’t really like the look of fuzzy socks, but I like how it feels to go to sleep in them. I prefer not to wear socks to bed, but my feet get cold often and I can’t fall asleep if my feet are cold. I’ve got a growing collection of socks with foxes on them, but I kinda prefer to wear plain socks. I feel like it’s immature to wear colorful socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

I can’t recall anything exciting happening. We’ve gone out for food. Had a microwave macaroni party…

33: what’s your fave pastry?

Ooh. I can’t think of anything specific. I like stuff with cherries, or maybe like a cheese danish. I’m not picky!

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

When I was really little I had Silly Bear. He was purple or something, and wore a jester’s hat, I think. I used him to make my brother laugh for the first time. Then I had Maple the bunny. She was the most beautiful bunny, until we put her in the wash and then the dryer. Now, I have my fox. It doesn’t have a name, it’s just my fox. I’m sorry to say that my fox went in the dryer, too. My mom told me it would be okay, and it wasn’t. It’s fur is all messed up, but it’s still cute and I love it. Makes me wish I had kept Maple the bunny. And yeah, I sleep with my fox most nights.

35: do you like stationery and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

Ughhhh yeah my favorite is designer notebooks that are all pretty. Blank paper is enticing to me. I used to really like pencils that were colorful or had designs on them, too, but I’ve actually made the switch to pens now. I never thought I would switch to pens because I make so many mistakes, or I used to. I prefer my pens to be comfy and write nicely, rather than to look good. Pencils that write nice and dark are very important to me. But yeah I love stationery, and I always have to visit the stationery aisle whenever I go to the drugstore.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

So lately, I think my mood has been sort of like Norah Jones or Corinne Bailey Rae. Kinda soft and sad, but nice. At least, that’s how I want my mood to be. Less the sad part though, just kinda soft and nice. Tryin not to stress out over finals.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

Definitely messy, but an organized messy. I want to know where everything is, and I want to be able to function and move around in the room, but I love having little figurines and papers all over my desk and stuff.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

Well, as an English major, I have many grammar pet peeves. I hate it when people put recyclables in the trash. I dunno what else…

39: what color do you wear the most?

I wear a lot of blue because it looks good on me. Matches my eyes. I am gaining an increasing number of maroon-/burgundy-colored clothes. I don’t like to wear gray clothes.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I don’t wear jewelry. Let me tell you about my Two Cats On a Couch instead. They’re made of painted wood; two cats, one striped, and one in some kind of clothing. They are on a red couch with white dots and yellow flowers. The cat in the clothes is me, and the other cat is someone to talk to. My mom found the cats at a thrift store and said she got them for me because she wanted me to always have someone to talk to. They were the last gift I ever received from her, as she gave them to me shortly before she passed away.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

One of the last books I remember liking a lot is The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart. I read it about four years ago, and it was meant for a younger age group than mine even back then, but I remember it really resonating with me. It also totally hyped me up for a good test experience when I was about to take the SAT, because I read about the kids taking the test in the book right before I went to take the SAT, and it made me excited to rock a test.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

I wish I had a favorite shop, but I don’t get out much and I usually take things to go places. There are several coffee shops in the area, but the independent ones are kinda new and kinda less comfy, and more minimalist, at least from what I’ve noticed. I can tell you about Norm’s, though, because I could definitely say that it’s a favorite spot of mine. My larp club at college, AOKP, goes to Norm’s every other Thursday or so. We have this big table in the corner that we usually sit at. I steal crayons from the basket on the front counter. My friend once left a big pile of sand in the bathroom because she didn’t clean herself off before we left the beach. I’d say that Norm’s has become a special place for me.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

Alice, this one is you! The last time I really watched the stars, alone or not, was when we went to the beach to watch the sunrise. That was a good time.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

Thanksgiving break was emotionally rough for me, but there was one afternoon when everything seemed really pretty, and the sun was real good, and all the plants were good, almost like they were giving off a vibe, and I just sat outside for maybe an hour and wrote in my journal, and started to feel really calm and good. I don’t even remember what I was thinking about, I’d have to check in my journal. That time just felt really good, from what I remember.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

I would say that I do try to intuit a lot of things, but I maybe have a hard time trusting myself or what I’m feeling. I’m trying to learn to recognize when I’m ignoring a feeling that is telling me to do or not to do something.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

I like this joke, cuz English: A rule of grammar: double negatives are a no-no

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

I don’t think people should be eating balut (duck embryos), and I’m pretty sure the smell alone of coconut shrimp has the power to make me throw up in an instant.

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

I think it is the same. I just kinda always am afraid of, instead of a comfy life, being alone and not having money or food and not being okay. Especially the alone part.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I really don’t buy or even use CDs anymore, since I was little. We didn’t have internet in the house when I was a kid, so all the music we listened to, we played on a boombox. It could do CDs and tapes. My mom had a small collection, and we rented a bunch of stuff from the public library. The sound on the boombox got messed up eventually, and by that time I had access to the internet, so now it’s streaming and Youtube.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I have a collection from, like, late elementary and middle school, of pencils that I used until they got really heckin small. I’m talking, you can barely write with the dang thing. One of these pencils is a colored pencil that is one of the best shades of my favorite color (neon orange) that I’ve ever seen.

[jonahcartwright-blog]

april fools ~ self-para

When: April 1st 2017 Who: Jonah and family (NPC) Summary: It’s the ten year anniversary of Jonah’s father’s death, and Jonah tries to think of anything else, but his mom wants to have an important word with him about his future. So he’d take his dead dad over that, thank you very much. Notes: mentions of death, an overbearing mother, flashbacks, just a lot of angst jonah has on a daily basis. also this is SUPER long, like i got really carried away with it. sorry if you decide to read. also ending’s lame bc i was like “shit this is looooong”

The clock counted down. 6:57, 6:58, 6:59...and then, bam. The annoying blare of the alarm echoed around Jonah’s room, jolting him awake. He turned it off, and rolled on his back, looking at the ceiling. 

Ten years.

He tried not to dwell on it, just focused on getting up and getting ready. To most teenagers in Lima, getting up at 7am on a Saturday was torture, but it was Jonah’s only sleep-in he got all week. He was a busy guy, and just because it was the anniversary wasn’t going to deter his plans. It was just going to be any other Saturday. 

Showered and dressed, he went down for some breakfast, his phone already dinging with messages. It wouldn’t be anyone from school -- God knows they’d still be asleep, or just getting home depending on who was out partying -- so he put it to the back of his mind. His mother was sat at the breakfast table, a mug in front of her, seemingly untouched, staring out into space as if there was something extremely interesting just out of his line of sight. Bernice Cartwright, in that moment, looked like an angel with the morning sun reflecting on her golden hair, dressed in all white, looking fragile. When she heard her son’s heavy footsteps, she jumped in surprised, smiling smally at him. “You’re up early,” She noted.

“I am?” Jonah questioned, picking up an apple from the fruit basket, “I’m always up this early on a Saturday. I have many practices to do, and I need to go over some things for the paper.” He explained, walking to the sink to wash the fruit, before taking a bite out of it.

Bernice pursed her lips in disapproval, “I’m sure you can skip today, Jonah.” She said, the emphasis impossible to miss.

“I can’t,” He said firmly, his phone chiming again. Bernice withered, whether at his defiance or the technology, she didn’t know.

“One day won’t hurt, sweetheart. You do too many extracurriculars, you never have time for yourself --,” He cut her off in that moment.

“You’re the one who told me to take up as many as I possibly could. Said it’d be good on college applications.” 

The stepford smile came back then, at the mention of school, “I did, yes, but you’ve already been accepted into your dream school.”

Jonah just looked at her with a blank expression. “My dream school?” He wanted to ask, “Funny enough, that it’s Capital University, and it’s the one where you met Dad, where you want me to follow in his footsteps.” But he didn’t. He just let his ever chiming phone fill the silence.

“Friends, I suppose?” Bernice asked, as if Jonah hung out with Lucifer himself.

Jonah checked his phone, seeing Delilah’s name on his home screen numerous times. “Yeah, Mom,” Was all he responded, knowing today wasn’t the day to pit his mother and his sister against each other. “Well, I have to go. The piano won’t practice itself.”

Throughout his practice, the idea of College stuck in his mind, which led him thinking about his father, which led him thinking about today. Ten years since he died. It was one of the clearest memories of a full day Jonah had. 

The date fell on a Sunday, which meant the Cartwrights went to their Church. Del was just starting to get into her rebellious phase, nothing serious, but she was causing a lot of boys’ heads to be turned, and she constantly had her iPod on. The memory of her wearing eyeliner for the first time and their mother’s reaction was one he could dwell on for another time. The grownups went to the service whilst the kids were cattled off to Sunday School, with the freakish Pastor declaring that all “jokes” and “foolishness” performed that day would send them all to Hell. He remembered everyone being frightened, except Del, who was doodling on her arm, using Jonah as her canvas when she run out of space. He remembered having asked his parents numerous times to go round Charlie’s, though they forbade it. Sundays were family days.

He remembered watching Del twirl her hair and flirt with some boy, as they were waiting for their parents to finish their conversations. Jonah’s dad, Michael, was a lawyer, whilst Bernice worked part-time in a Christian bookstore. He loved talking about work, how he had faith in God to put the criminals and the sinners away. 

He remembered his dad’s cough, as if there was something in the back of his throat he couldn’t quite dislodge, and complaining about his indigestion. He remembered his Dad collapsing as soon as they stepped through the threshold of their home, of Delilah screaming and his mom frantically dialling 9-1-1. 

He remembered hanging out in the hospital all afternoon, and overhearing the conversation between a doctor and his mom. 

“There was nothing else we could do, we’re so sorry.”

Jonah stopped piano playing, and decided that maybe his mom was right about one thing, and that he needed a day off. He headed over to Del’s, to check on her, knowing that despite all her problems with their family, she had been close to their dad. But alas, she was fine (read: stoned) and he left her too her own devices, heading back home.

On the way back, he drove past Charlie’s, and remembered the conversation he had with him. How the other boy thought it was a cruel prank, and couldn’t hear the genuiness of Jonah’s tears. For the first time that day, he smiled.

“Where have you been?” Was the first question he got when he stepped in, “you’re not normally home this late.”

“I met up with some friends,” Jonah lied, glancing at the crucifix hung on the wall, as if it would smite him down there and then.

“You need to stop associating with some of those friends of yours, Jonah. They’re no good,” Bernice insisted. He rolled his eyes, it was the same argument practically every day these days.

“What does it matter when I get shipped off to Columbus?” He asked instead. His mom ignored him, as per usual.

“Some mail came today, from the City College, in New York?” She phrased it like a question, though it was definitely an accusation. Jonah couldn’t help but feel like he was frozen.

“What about it?” 

“You got accepted. Congratulations.”

“You opened my mail?” Jonah asked.

“When did you apply?”

“Why did you open my mail?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied for it?”

“Mom what the Hell --”

“NO BLASPHEMY!” Bernice yelled, and it echoed through their house, staring at Jonah with her icy eyes, “You are not going to that school. You are going to Capital, Jonah. Your dad would have wanted --,”

“Don’t bring Dad up, not today.” Jonah said, tired of this, “and what does his opinion matter anyway? Or yours?”

“Jonah...” Bernice tried, but he shrugged it off.

“I’m sick of being coddled. I’m sick of people painting my future, or who I should be for me. I’m just sick of it. I’m going to bed.” He snapped, ignoring that it was only early evening, and stormed upstairs, shoving in his earphones and just letting the world disappear for a little while.

Why did his life just feel like an endless April Fool’s joke, except the punch-line had long since expired?