#please turn couples therapy into normal therapy

[chaoxfix]

oh my beloved, cherished main character who carries the narrative. you have so many problems. i love you and i can't wait to ruin your life. i promise i will give you a love interest with trauma that acts as a perfect foil to your own.

[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 23

Summary: Harry and y/n deal with the aftermath of y/n's panic attack and do some retail therapy to prepare for their trip.

Warning: Smut, public bj & masturbation, exhibitionism, daddy!kink. Mention of panic attacks, Ethan and illegal dealings.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: This chapter isn't as long as I hoped it would be and I wasn't able to get a lot of the Pleasing scene complete. I haven't been in a good writing space recently and I really want to make sure it's all planned out properly but I wanted to post something in the mean time for you! Enjoyy

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Harry’s stomach was in knots. It had been twisted since the moment he let you walk away from him at his office. His head was in a constant state of nausea and the very thought of you being so far from him had his body aching. Your trip was coming up so quickly, two weeks exactly now and things had taken such a sudden switch he was dizzy. 

He hadn’t seen you for a couple of days, or spoken to you properly either. For anyone else that would be normal. Seeing your partner every day wasn’t a prerequisite to having a happy relationship, but to Harry it was torture. Other than your text message when you got home Wednesday, you hadn’t spoken to him. He sent his usual good morning text Thursday morning and was only met with silence. He worked through his lunch that day so he couldn’t call you like usual, but if that ever happened he expected you to call him first. You never did. 

He tried to call you that night, then again Friday morning but you ignored him both times. He was starting to panic, starting to fear that you were seriously not okay or that he had done something to fuck everything up even if he didn’t realise it. He knew you two could communicate if that was the case, that your relationship was strong enough for you to speak to him if he did something wrong. After everything you two had been through, your foundation was strong. At least Harry believed so. 

But knowing it could be the former option and you could be at home in an unstable mental state was far worse than the possibility of him doing something that warranted you ignoring him. Harry didn’t want to push you, but he also couldn’t handle the unknown. 

He was meant to spend Saturday with you. You were going to meet him in the city to get as much shopping done for your trip as possible then he would spend the night. It was your last free day before locking down for studying and Harry wanted to make it something stress-free and enjoyable to give you a mental break. You only had a couple of free days after your exams before you both flew out so there wasn’t a lot of time to get the key essentials once your semester was over. Mostly you just wanted new clothes and wanted to pick things out for Harry as well. He was happy to oblige. 

But now… he didn’t even know if you two were okay. 

So he decided that he needed to see you. You could turn him away and tell him that you needed space or hated him or preferably that you loved him. Whatever you wanted. Harry didn’t care what you said, as long as he found you alive and okay. 

Early Saturday morning Harry was driving to your place with a bouquet of fresh lilies, a large oat latte and a croissant from your favourite local bakery. He didn’t have your keycard anymore so he couldn’t let himself in… but Harry was creative. It felt a bit reckless and immature actually, calling your best friend to let him in like it was some plot for forgiveness, especially when he was just checking up on you. But Harry didn’t want to risk you coming downstairs and turning away without seeing him or worse, just plain ignoring him.

“Hey, Harry.” Maeve greeted, smiling at the man as she held open the entrance door for him. It was especially cold outside now, so he was quick to rush inside and let the door close before he hugged her quickly as a hello. 

“Hey, Maeve. Thanks for doing this.” 

“It’s fine. You’re lucky I like you.” She teased, bumping his shoulder while they walked towards the elevator. 

Harry was fortunate enough to spend more time with your friends. As were you to spend more time with Niall and Jed. Since Harry was mostly spending time at your place, he had spent time with Maeve and Jay, even Dakari. Usually, it was just your neighbour and coworker, but there was a double date situation where Harry became aware of the ‘older guy’ Maeve was dating. 

Dakari and Harry knew each other through golf and Pleasing. They weren’t exceptionally close, but they got on well enough to treat their beautiful girlfriends to an expensive dinner in the city. Dakari was actually interested in investing in Pleasing, but Harry didn’t particularly like the way he conducted business and would’ve rather owned a third of the club than share a sixth with a man he didn’t want to associate with. Harry was glad for that decision now, since his once silent investment turned into him having a say in business decisions and provided perks that he loved to use. 

He hadn’t really used them since he met you but he hoped one day he would. With you. 

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it… Have you seen her? I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday and I’m really fucking worried.” Harry admitted, holding the door of the elevator open for Maeve. 

“Yeah, I have.” She nodded, “she told me what happened... It’s pretty fucked up. I hope you’ve dealt with that asshole.”

Harry assumed that meant everything. 

“I have. I mean, I will.” That still didn’t mean he was going to elaborate. The plan he had set in place to deal with Ethan was one for the inner circle only. The original, small, tightly-knit circle. It was illegal after all. To frame a man for stealing $250,000. “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay… I think she just needed space, that’s all. I wouldn’t take it personally, Harry. She loves you.”

“I know and I don’t. Well, I’m trying not to, anyway.”

The rest of the ride was full of polite small talk. Maeve complimented the flowers and the croissant, but Harry didn’t need her approval to know you loved them. He knew you would because he knew everything about you. Everything except how you were feeling right now. 

Harry made sure Maeve went back to her apartment before he knocked on your door. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie, but he was hoping that you two could talk about your panic attack and hopefully end up having a nice day together. He just wanted to hold you and see you smile. 

The door swung open barely ten seconds after Harry knocked and there you were. And you looked… okay. Thank God, you looked okay. He could see the tiredness in your eyes and body by the droop of your shoulders and bags under your eyes. You hadn’t changed out of your plaid pyjamas yet but that was normal. Aside from your clear exhaustion, you looked well. 

“Hi…” Harry breathed, smiling softly. “I wanted to check up on you. You haven’t answered my calls or texts…”

Your eyes softened and it took a moment before you said or did anything. Without saying anything, you pulled him inside by his nice vest and wrapped your arms around his body, pressing yourself against him. He reciprocated the best he could with his hands full and loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, breathing out a huge sigh of relief.

There was a flood of instant relief through Harry just at your tight hug. Like a heavy weight dropped from his shoulders the moment you buried your face into the light blue checks of his vest. God was he fucking ecstatic. Just having your body in his arms was euphoric and there was no feeling quite like the comfortable intimacy of a hug. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.” 

He could barely understand you with how your face was pressed against him, but he made out the words and was immediately taken aback. 

“What? Baby, why are you sorry?” He soothed, now desperate to free his hands so he could take care of you properly. 

“I didn’t mean to ignore you, I was just…” you sighed and pressed your cheek to him instead, sliding your hands beneath his vest and shirt to feel his warm skin. It was like a clutch for normalcy, a tie to feeling okay again. The last few days had been so murky and unsettling. All you wanted was to feel safe again. Harry never failed to make you feel safe and yet you pushed him away. It wasn’t fair to him and it went against everything you two tried so hard to build. “The panic attack freaked me out and I needed time to sort my feelings out… I shouldn’t have ignored you, H. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t spologise baby, please…” Harry paused, “just-let me put these down, okay? Then we can talk properly?” 

You pulled back and looked up at him, reluctantly releasing him from the hug. It was barely a minute before he was on you again. All he did was set the three items on your little table before he wrapped his arms around you properly and squeezed you tight against his body, rocking you slightly from side to side. You gladly inhaled his masculine scent, finding comfort in the rich, sexiness. It was unfair that he always smelt so good. Even after the gym he still smelt like a sexy, clean wealthy man. 

“You don’t need to apologise, y/n. I know it freaked you out.” Harry soothed, pressing his lips against the crown of your head, “I was just really fucking worried. You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen at all and once it did I just kept thinking and thinking and I was just so angry and exhausted. It was a lot.”  

“I know. Trust me I get it. They can be the most debilitating thing in the entire world…” Harry soothed, pulling back from you. “Do you want to go sit down and talk about it?” 

With a nod, Harry guided you to sit down on your bed with him. It was still unmade, but Harry didn’t care. You took it a step further and crawled back towards your pillows to lie down on it instead before patting the spot beside you so Harry would join you. He shoved his shoes off then shuffled in beside you, adjusting himself so you were cuddled into his chest.

It was all done in comfortable silence and once you were settled in, Harry decided to speak first. 

“They can be traumatic.” Harry murmured, “I spent nearly five hours in the gym after one of my panic attacks.” At his words, you untucked your face from his chest and looked up at him to watch him speak. He smiled down at you, stroking his fingers across your cheek like his words weren’t deeply personal and from a dark period of his life. “I worked my body so hard and wrecked myself because I was trying to deal with my emotions. Or trying not to deal, more like it. I definitely paid for it afterwards but at the time it was the only thing I knew would get my mind off it.”

“I came home Wednesday and cried,” You whispered, watching his eyes sadden. It killed him that he wasn’t there to help you. “Then I went and bought Red Bulls and chips and pulled an all-nighter to finish off an assignment like it was nothing. I was so… I don’t even know how to describe it. I was angry, yeah, but I was also so far out of my head that I just wanted to distract myself.” 

“We all do unhealthy things to cope sometimes, y/n. There’s no one way to deal with things. Pulling an all nighter might not be the best way but you were doing the best you could to cope.”

“It didn’t help.” You frowned, tracing the checks on his vest with your nail.

“I can’t imagine it did.” He chuckled softly, sighing when you didn’t look up at him. “Don’t beat yourself up for it, baby... Maeve told me you spoke to her about it. Did that help?”

So that’s how he got in. You couldn’t really be upset by it. Maeve wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to see him. You were just… a bit nervous to make the first move. 

“It did. It was good to rant about it with someone who didn’t really know anyone involved.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it?” 

Harry hoped you would. After hearing nothing for days he just wanted an insight into your head. 

“You don’t have to.” He continued softly, prompting you to look up at him, “I’m happy to just be here with you if that’s what you need.” He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I would’ve been here when it happened too. I hope you know that. You don’t have to go through these things alone if you don’t want to.”

“I know but I was just so overstimulated I think and… I didn’t want to say anything I regretted,” an unreadable look flashed through Harry’s eyes, like he wasn’t exactly sure how to take what you were saying. You sighed, looking back down at the same quad of checks you had been tracing with your finger during this entire conversation, “I don’t think I ever really processed what happened with Ethan and… your part in it, I guess. There’s been so much going on that I just kept ignoring it and ignoring his existence completely. Seeing him really triggered me and the more I thought about it…” you sighed again, “the more I was angry at you too, not just Ethan.” 

“You were?”

“I know you’ve only done what you thought the right thing to do was. But I just don’t get how you can work with him every day. He hurt me so fucking badly Harry…” you could feel your throat starting to get scratchy and your eyes prickling with tears. The stinging forced you to turn from him and close your eyes momentarily, but it did nothing to conceal how you were feeling. The sight practically broke Harry’s heart. “I don’t get how you can even be in the same building as him. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I feel sick every day I have to see him, y/n. I’ve done everything I can to make sure we never cross paths but sometimes it’s inevitable. He was never meant to be on my floor on Wednesday and I never would’ve let him come anywhere near you if I knew.”

“But you still work with him, Harry!” You sat up abruptly, looking down at him. “It doesn’t make sense. He’s getting no consequences for what he put us through. I get you couldn’t go to the police because there was no evidence, I get it. But I need to do something. I need you to do something.”

“I am.” He didn’t want to get frustrated at you, not when you were hurting but he was hurting too. This wasn’t fucking easy for him and if the law meant nothing he would’ve gone after Ethan himself and made sure he never bothered you or anyone else again. But he couldn’t exactly do that, could he? He sat up as well, nudging backwards until his back was against your headboard. “Y/n I’ve been dealing with him at work the last couple of months because I had to for my plan to work. I couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary because I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself, but I have a plan. It’s just one of those things you have to wait for.”

“What is it? This plan?” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him expectantly. 

“I can’t tell you.” Harry almost seemed reluctant to say the words, but it wasn’t because he was apprehensive about his decision to keep it a secret from you, it was because he wasn’t sure how you’d react. He didn’t want you to be mad at him, but at the same time he wasn’t going to compromise your safety and your future. 

Because that’s what it came down to. If everything went to shit and you knew even one single detail about it, you were done. 

He wasn’t going to let that happen but he also wasn’t going to sit here and lie and pretend that nothing was going on behind the scenes. That’s something he would’ve done at the beginning of your relationship, but he knew that this was just as much your fight as his and lying wasn’t the right thing to do. He could be honest and keep you safe at the same time. 

“What do you mean? Why?” 

You were immediately jumping to many conclusions, all Harry wanted to settle. He just wasn’t sure how. 

“Because it’s not exactly legal, y/n and while it’s pretty fucking foolproof I can’t risk anything. If the whole thing comes crashing down I don’t want you knowing a single bit of it.”

“But that’s-” 

“You will find out. I promise.” He interrupted, “just not until it’s over. I’m not budging on this.”

As much as you wanted Ethan to pay, you didn’t want it like this. You always knew he covered his tracks well but you hoped that by now there’d be some loose thread. Someone with hard evidence to be able to get him punished and that clearly wasn’t the case. But that didn’t mean you wanted Harry risking everything, either. It was exactly how you felt when you first met Niall and Jed and learnt about how they were blackmailing Ethan into handing over the photos. It was reckless and a huge fucking crime. You prayed that it wasn’t the same plan because nothing on this fucking planet was worth Harry going to jail and you losing him. You couldn’t even bare the thought.

“I don’t want you doing anything illegal Harry. It’s stupid!” Your voice broke in your distress, shooting Harry right in the heart like a goddamn bullet. “I’d rather him get away with everything than have you risk yourself. What if you go to jail or what if it doesn’t work? I can’t… I can’t lose you.” 

“You won’t lose me.” His eyes softened and he reached forward to cup your cheek, “You won’t.” his thumb traced over your cheek and he couldn’t help but kiss you gently before pressing his forehead against yours. “I understand you’re scared, y/n but I have to do this not only for you but for me too… I have no choice but to go down this route because he left nothing for me to work with. Fucking nothing. If there was another way, I would do it. But this is it.” 

“And you can’t tell me?” you whispered, wishing you could pry the whole truth from his mouth. 

“No.” He shook his head, leaning back just a tad so he could see your whole face at once. “But I’ve done all my due diligence, baby, I promise and I’m as far removed from it as I possibly can be. So please, just, let this one go. For now.”

“I’ll try…” you settled on, unable to promise anything more. “How long am I letting this go though? A couple of weeks? A month?” 

Harry sighed and leaned back against your headboard, “I don’t know. Could be while we’re on holiday, could be in a couple months. When I know, you know.”

“And in the meantime you’re just going to keep working with him? That doesn’t seem fair” You didn’t particularly like that idea. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t want him stepping foot into that office again while that asshole was walking around free and triggering panic attacks left right and centre. 

“Well…” His lip quirked up in a smile, “I was hoping we’d enjoy our holiday together and then who knows… maybe I won’t go back to work once we’re home. I haven’t decided yet but I’ve wanted to do something different for a while now. Just not sure what.” 

“I didn't know you were thinking of changing jobs.”

He shrugged, tracing random patterns on your back through your pyjama shirt. “I haven’t been planning anything per say, but I’m a bit bored. Seeing that asshole around doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t seem worth it anymore, not when I can do anything else and be happier for it.”

“A career change at your ripe age? That’s ballsy.” You mused, squealing and jumping slightly when he pinched your ass. 

“Well I haven’t decided anything yet, just considering my options. At my ripe age I’ve done quite well for myself so I wouldn’t mind a bit of time off. Maybe be a stay at home boyfriend while you study your pretty little ass off in your final semester.” He reached up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, twirling a strand around his finger.

“A stay at home boyfriend?” You scoffed, laughing loudly. “Stop.”

“What?” He laughed, amusement laced in his widened eyes, “we’ve got a son and two households to run, someone has to be around to cook and take care of the place.”

A son. There was something so heartwarming about Archie being referred to as your son, especially when Harry was being so casual about it. Like it was normal. Put the son reference and conjoining your two houses as one and well… that was about as committed as you could be without moving in together. Not that you were anywhere near that stage yet. 

“One of those households has a maid, a gardener and a dog walker, I’m sure it’s just fine.” You rolled your eyes, “But if you want to take care of this place and feed me I won’t complain.” 

“I’d be more than happy to feed you and fulfill any other needs you have.” He announced proudly, squeezing your hip before reaching in to peck you quickly. “Which reminds me-” he got out of bed, going to your table where your coffee and sweet treat were still waiting for you. “I got you these.” You shuffled up into a cross legged position, happily grabbing the two items when Harry sat back down on your bed. 

“Thank you.” You sipped your drink, loving the sweet taste of it. “And thank you for driving all the way down here. It means a lot.” You tore open the paper bag, ripping off a small piece of the croissant and offering it to Harry. 

“No no. It’s yours.” He declined, happy when you didn’t argue and at the piece. “And you don’t need to thank me. I love you, y/n and I wanted to see you. I always do” He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I love you too.” You pressed your hand on his knee and reached in to kiss him quickly, loving the way his hand returned to your back to trace random shapes over it. “I love this by the way. I never thought I’d find a vest sexy but you look really good.” You traced over the v-neck of his checkered vest with your clean hand, looking up at him. You really missed him. 

“Thanks darling. It’s vintage.” He smirked, wrapping his arm around your hip to drag you back to sit properly beside him. You felt a little dirty compared to him in his nice outfit, especially since you had been wearing the same clothes for days and desperately needed to wash your hair. Harry didn’t seem to care though and you really appreciated that. Washing your hair was a mission by itself. Add a panic attack and assignment stress and you couldn’t think of anything worse, even if the thought of a long hot shower did sound quite nice. 

“I like it.” You took a big bite of your croissant this time, moaning at the taste of the chocolate filling. You slumped against Harry, happily chewing it while he rubbed your hip and kissed your head. 

“Good?” He mused, sliding his hand just underneath your pyjama top to feel your soft skin. 

“So good.” You nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’m glad.” He laughed. A comfortable silence fell over you two, with small comments and conversation here and there. It was nice to just spend time with Harry, even if you weren’t doing much of anything. “Would you still be interested in going shopping?”

“Today?” You sat up properly and looked at him, both your coffee and croisssnt long gone and in your stomach. 

“If you’re up for it. We did plan for today but there’s no pressure. I’m more than happy to change into comfortable clothes and watch Netflix all day. Truly.” 

“No no. I could go shopping. We need to get ready for our trip, right?” You grinned, getting excited at the thought of a day walking around the shops and buying so many cute outfits for your trip. Secretly though, you liked the idea of Harry going with you more than the shopping itself. 

“We do. Yes.” He smiled, happy that you had a bit more energy. Harry hated seeing you down. Any emotion except pleasure and happiness had him determined to fix whatever the issue was. “Are you sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yep.” You climbed over him to get out of bed, stopping when you were straddling him. His hands found your hips immediately, unable to keep them off you. “I need to wash my hair though, so can you wait an hour? I’ll try and be quick.”

An hour. By that calculation you were doing your ‘everything shower’ and a full face of makeup. Harry now knew what that meant, but he was happy to sit around and keep himself occupied if that meant you were taking care of yourself. The concept wasn’t as relaxing as he thought it would be. It was more of a frustrating marathon of events where each one presented its own challenge. He made the mistake of wanting to join you for one of them, thinking it would be fun and you ended up kicking him out because you didn’t have enough space to shave the back of your leg. 

If there was one shower he let you have alone, it was that one. 

Harry chuckled and nodded, squeezing your hips then helping you climb the rest of the way off the bed. “Take your time, y/n. We’ve got all day.” 

You managed to get everything done in just over an hour and then you and Harry were on your way to the city. You grabbed another coffee as soon as you made it into the shopping centre, then the shop-to-shop walking began. There were a few items you had on your list that you were aiming to buy, but for the most part you just wanted to try a bunch of stuff on and see what you liked. Harry of course was happy to offer his suggestions and his wallet which only seemed to get him more excited to pick things out for you. 

“I was thinking…”

“Mh?” You hummed, buckling up the buckle on a pair of baby pink suede platform heels. They definitely weren’t Europe-appropriate, but you got a little sidetracked and with Harry encouraging you to try on everything you so much as looked at, it was easy to get distracted by anything that looked pretty.

“After your assignment is submitted Friday, why don’t we pack up your place and you can stay with me until we leave for our trip?”

“Harry I still have to study for two exams. As much as I love that idea, you don’t want me taking over your house.” You responded, standing up from the couch to test the comfort of the shoes. You stepped around them a little, walking to the closest mirror to have a look at them properly. “And I’m sure my parents would hate that I’m spending a week at yours instead of going home.”

“But you weren’t meant to go home at all, remember? Not until your exams were finished.” Harry coaxed, standing up from the couch to step behind you in the mirror and wrap his arms around your waist. You shivered slightly against him, still focusing on looking at the heels on your feet. “This time you’re close to home, close to Archie…” He hummed, sliding his nose up the side of your neck. This time you really shivered and your focus was taken completely away from your shoes. Not that you were thinking of buying them anyway. They were way too expensive but the allure of trying on Prada shoes alongside a man who already put aside a pair of sunglasses and a belt for himself was way too strong. “Close to me…” this time his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail right underneath your ear. 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, making Harry smirk at you in the mirror. Oh he had you now. Your body was becoming more pliant in his arms and you were leaning against him more and more with every passing second. 

“You could study during the day and have Archie keep you company then at night I could feed you and help you… relax,” his hand flattened against your belly, causing the bold rings on his fingers to twinkle in the lighting. You had a sudden craving for those fingers to be in your mouth or further down south where he actually could make you relax. 

“I’ll be studying all the time, Harry.” You weren’t sure why you were protesting it so much, not when the thought of a quick orgasm as your 15-minute study break sounded so delicious. 

“And I’ll be right there beside you, working or reading or providing you with a quick… study break. Whatever you need, hm.” He drawled, kissing your cheek. All you could do was nod because you were so fucking dazed and way too horny in the middle of a store you couldn’t afford. “Do you like the shoes?”

“What?” 

You didn’t even hear what he said.

“The shoes.” He tapped your belly, looking down at your feet. “Are they comfortable?”

“Oh…” You tried to snap out of it and stepped a little in place, feeling the shoes mould perfectly to your feet. God, why did you have to love something so expensive? “Yeah, they’re comfy but I don’t need them.”

“Nonsense. They’re baby pink, your favourite colour.” Harry grinned, pulling back to step in front of you instead. The fact that he called it ‘baby pink’ and not ‘light pink’ had you screaming on the inside. He grabbed onto one of your hands, holding it out between you. “Do a spin.”

You did as told and did a 360 spin for him, liking how your heights were a bit more even with the tall heel. Without saying anything more to you, he turned to the sales associate who was waiting patiently beside the couch Harry was just sitting on. “Do you have a matching bag to these? In a baby pink?”

“Yes, sir. We have a cross body and a shoulder bag.”

“Perfect. Bring them both, please.” Harry turned back to you, then suddenly whipped his head around to the woman before she could step away, “Oh, and please bring some sunglasses too. Anything you think might suit her. Thanks, love.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” You hissed, “I’m not buying anything.”

“No, I am. I like you in pink. Besides, isn’t a shoulder bag and sunglasses a necessity for a holiday?” He mused, squeezing your hips. “Let me spoil you, darling. For doing so well on your exams.”

“I haven’t even done them yet.” You blushed, protesting slightly while threading your fingers behind his neck. “You don’t have to buy me such expensive things, H. You’ve already gotten me so much today.”

“And? You deserve it.” Harry assured you, reaching forward to kiss you gently. The lipstick you applied before you left was almost gone by now. Harry could barely keep his hands off you and you didn’t really want him to. These quick, casual pecks and signs of affection meant so much more to you than anything he could buy. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, threading your fingers softly into the hair at the nape of his neck to kiss him again. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby.” He kissed you again and then sealed it with another quick peck before using his grip on your hips to turn you back towards the mirror. “Now tell me you don’t love the shoes. I know you can’t.”

It was store after store of shopping. You tried to keep things concise to the list you brought of things you wanted to get, but just like the Prada shoes… and bag… and sunglasses, you were both easily distracted. You had more fun dressing Harry up more than anything. Seeing him try on complete outfits you picked out for him just hit the spot for you. You loved it.

And it had nothing to do with him looking absolutely delicious in every fucking thing. You picked out a bit of a joke outfit in one of the ‘younger’ stores as Harry liked to call it, styling him in something more skater boy than his usual refined, delicious European style and he still looked hot as anything. 

Harry hated it of course, but he did like the graphic t-shirt and managed to style it in his own way with the pair of dress pants he had on. God, he was just so fucking hot. By the third men's store you brought him into, you were sweating. You couldn’t explain why it was such a turn-on to watch him open and close a curtain and show off different outfits or why a linen button-up much like everything else he has riled you up until you were clenching your thighs, but it just did. 

You finally truly understood why he liked buying you things so much. 

“Alright, last one then I need food. It’s practically dinner time and there’s a sushi train near here. I could demolish like twenty of those little plates.” Harry chuckled to himself and opened the door of the fitting room he was in. Upon revealing himself, your mouth properly dropped. 

It was another button-up style top but this time it was entirely made out of white crochet squares. The design was fine and perfect beyond perfect and had so many little holes throughout the design, that you could see slivers of skin everywhere. Then there was the obvious sliver of skin. The top three undone buttons that Harry had purposefully left open to expose his cross necklace and littered chest hairs. The tails of his swallows were peaking past the edges and with particular movements, the moth became more visible.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

“Not sure about this one, love. ‘Dunno why.” Harry ran his hands down the fabric, looking at his shirt until he realised you hadn’t said anything. “Y/n?” 

Seeing the look at your face, Harry could see exactly what your opinion was on his shirt. 

“I love it.” You finally said, walking towards him so you could feel the soft lace across his chest. He smirked and placed his hands on your waist. “It’s soft.”

Just the feeling of the soft lace against his warm body was driving you crazy. His body heat was radiating against your hands and you suddenly craved it against your body. All this talk about ‘study breaks’ and being in the same house as him for an entire week had your head in a spin. You couldn’t stop thinking about having constant sex and how tempting it would be to have so much privacy for so long.

And this was before you two were going to have an entire month together. God, the thought of that… your vagina would never be the same, you knew that for sure.

“Mh. Comfy too.” He commented, shivering when you dug your nails through the lace holes to scratch at his chest. “So y’like it?” Harry’s head cocked a little as the attraction in your eyes quickly started to reflect in his own. 

“Uhuh.”

You peeked around quickly to make sure you were alone and when the coast was clear you made the quick decision to walk him backwards back into the fitting room. Harry was happy to follow along with you, barely being able to ask what you were doing before you locked the door behind you and grabbed onto his face to kiss him.

Harry squeezed your waist and chuckled into your mouth, sighing softly against your lips while he kissed back. His arms started to wrap tightly around you and he was trying so hard to not moan at how eager you were pressing yourself against him and nibbling on his lip and tugging on his hair and fucking hell he was going dizzy. 

You weren’t one to start things like this and Harry was enjoying every fucking moment.

“What are you doing, darling? Hm?” Harry mused, eyes fluttering shut as you tugged his head back by his hair to gain easier access to his neck. His fingers dug deeper into the small of your back in an attempt to ground himself. He had to be quiet.

“I need your cock in my mouth,” You whispered against his skin while sliding your hand down his chest towards his dress pants. Harry tensed immediately beneath you, nearly groaning loudly when your hand landed on his cock. “Please, Daddy.” 

You started to palm over his half-hard cock which was very quickly hardening properly beneath your hand. Harry’s head tipped back against the wall and his jaw went slack. He could barely fucking believe what was happening right now.

What you were doing was reckless. Inappropriate and very much illegal. Giving head on a yacht in the open ocean didn’t exactly compare to giving head in a small enclosed fitting room where there were many more people around and any small noise would give you away.

To be honest though, you didn’t really give a fuck. You could tell Harry liked that.

You pulled back from his skin and made eye contact with him while squeezing him through his pants hard enough to make his eyes flutter. Reaching forward, you kissed him softly and spoke through soft kisses until he verbally agreed to have you on your knees before him. “Let me say thank you… please… I need it so bad, Daddy.”

Harry breathed heavily against your mouth and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck to tighten them in an almost warning way. “You’ve got to be quick, y/n. Unless you want to be caught.”

Something told you Harry wouldn’t have any issues being caught with his cock in your mouth. 

With a quick nod from Harry, you began the descent onto your knees. But before they even bent, he stopped you. “Wait.” He murmured, grabbing his expensive vest that was hanging on the back of the door and then folding it in half so it was thicker. “For your knees.” 

“I thought you liked it when they bruised.” You grinned, taking the vest nonetheless and putting it on the carpet in front of his feet. You slowly got down on your knees, looking back at the lock for a second just to double-check it was actually locked. It was thrilling to be in such a compromising position, but that didn’t mean you actually wanted someone to walk in on you two. 

“Only when I can take care of you after.” Harry sighed, the sight of you before him enough to make him breathless. He tried to relax against the wall separating your fitting room from the one next door. It thankfully went floor to ceiling, so you hoped that would muffle most of the noise. As much as you could try to keep quiet, Harry was quite terrible at it and it was hard to give a proper satisfying blowjob without making some sort of noise. 

Hopefully, the store’s music would cover it.

“You always take care of me. Now it’s my turn.” You looked up at him with a smile, sliding your hands over his thighs. He looked down at you, sliding his hand through your hair to push it back from your face so he could watch your facial expressions and every move you made. 

“You look so hot in this” You complimented, pushing his button-up top up his stomach to expose his belly button and below. “You better buy it.” you leaned forward and licked a stripe from the button of his pants to his belly button, making sure to do it once more while you undid his pants. 

“I will…” Harry assured, sighing out like a pretty angel just at the feeling of your mouth on his lower belly. “You like it so I have to buy it.”

“Mhmm. Y’gonna look so good, Daddy…” 

Harry’s pants easily fell to his ankles once the button came undone. They were straight-legged and with his tight briefs pressing his cock down, they slid right down. Of course, the briefs didn’t last very long either and they soon joined Harry’s pants at his ankles.

You had no time to tease or kiss every inch of exposed skin like you wanted to. This had to be quick which was a shame when he looked so fucking hot standing there naked aside from the pretty lace button-up you wanted to keep on him. It was like sexy lingerie and it messed with your head much more than you would’ve liked. 

“I only look good for you, darling. You’re the only one I want to… shit…” 

Harry couldn’t even finish his words, not when you spat on your hand, wrapped it around him and brought him to your mouth without any fucking warning. You jerked him slowly with your hand, focusing on the base while you slid his head against your tongue. His hips bucked against your mouth at the feeling, causing you to choke a little on his cock and force yourself to pull back from him. 

“You’ve got to relax.” You licked your tongue slowly against his slit, savouring the taste of his precum. You made a show of it too and closed your eyes to hum gently once it collected on your tongue. “As much as I love choking on your cock, it’s too loud.” 

You were almost scolding him, reprimanding him for not being good and staying pressed against the wall. It was reminiscent of the first time you figured out you loved him, not that Harry knew it like that. Harry remembered the first shower blowjob he got from you as a bold move, not the craving for control that you desperately wanted at the time.

Now… you’d give up any and all control to Harry, knowing that you were really the one in charge. That’s how you two worked. You both had your limits and while Harry hadn’t really pushed them to the limits very often, he had the power to do so because you gave it to him.

And how he was putty in your hands. 

“Don’t think I won’t get you back for this…” he shuddered, fisting your hair tighter when you brought him back into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him perfectly. All you did was smile around his cock while pressing the vein underneath his length back and forth on your tongue. 

You were looking forward to the payback. 

The longer you had him in your mouth, the less you started to care about how loud you were being. Harry was doing well to keep still, albeit practically trembling against you, but his hands were tugging on your hair roughly and he couldn’t stop the string of curses in place of loud moans he wanted make for you. 

There was just nothing like the sound of male pleasure. Deep, guttural groans and whimpers, hushed lines of praise and degradation and pleads of your name. A loud curse when you clenched around him or a whimpered one when you swallowed around him like you were doing now. 

Your hand was still wrapped around his base, fingers reached further back to press against his frenulum and apply pressure to his balls at the same time. You kept moving your mouth quickly and sloppily over his tip, swirling your tongue around his head where he was most sensitive.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n. God… your mouth.” 

It was borderline blasphemy the way he used God’s name. The way he cursed and moaned it out because you were giving him one of the most insane blowjobs of his entire life. There was pleasure in all types of blowjob, but there was nothing quite toe-curling like having his tip sucked and flicked at so fucking harshly. Harry almost felt like he needed to squeal like a little girl.

And you were eating it up. Literally. 

Sucking Harry off just turned you on to level 100. There was something about the shape of his cock… the weight of it on your tongue… his scent and soft skin, the way he was so incredibly hard for you and yet so sensitive and dainty at the same time. All of it. Add the dirty talk and the hair pulling and his nails scratching at your head like he wanted to force your head closer so you’d choke on him and you were practically a puddle in your jeans.

You wanted to touch yourself. To just dip your fingers in your underwear and touch the pain away. Just a little.

“Can I touch myself, Daddy? I’ll be quick, I promise.” You whispered, pulling off him to speak and catch your breath while you continued jerking him off. 

Even on your knees with all the power in this situation, you still asked permission to touch yourself. Harry had to force his mind elsewhere to not prematurely cum all over your nice outfit. 

“Do it. Make yourself cum f’me, baby. You’ve been sucking me so fucking good.” He praised, rubbing his thumb over your messy mouth. Your once perfect lipliner was all smudged now, leaving behind your pretty swollen lips for Harry to trace. He had a sudden craving to kiss you silly, but with your manicured fingers wrapped around him, his cock’s craving was stronger. Hungrier. 

You nodded, bringing his cock to your mouth and bopping against it while you undid your jeans so you could slide your hand into your underwear. It was like instant relief the moment your fingers met your clit. You were soaked and slippery and so fucking horny you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to finish yourself off. 

Harry was close too. You could tell by his heavier breathing and the slight twitching in his cock. You kept your lips wrapped around his tip and focused your attention there while you used one hand on his balls and the other to touch yourself. 

The closer both of you got to finishing, the louder your noises became. You tried so hard to hide it, to keep your noises reduced to a sigh especially when you could hear people talking all around you, but it was pretty damn hard. Your one saving grace was the music echoing through the speakers, but you were getting so lost in the pleasure you didn’t know or care whether it was loud enough to cover what you two were doing.

“Shit, y/n. ‘M close. ‘M getting so close…” 

Keeping your lips wrapped around him, you took his warning as a sign to jerk him faster and time your own circles on your clit with every movement you made on his cock. And it wasn’t long after his warning when you felt his whole body tremble against you. His thighs tensed and his abs clenched, his fingers stilled in your hair.

Harry had to bite down on his own fist to try and muffle the noise he let out when he finally came in your mouth, letting ribbons and ribbons of cum fill your throat until you had to swallow to make more room. He wanted to watch you take all of it and make yourself finish, but he could barely stand up straight let alone keep his eyes open to see the way you shook and squeezed your eyes shut when your own orgasm rushed over you. 

When he nudged your head away due to sensitivity, you both seemed to collapse in your own positions to try and calm down from your highs. Your head tilted against his thigh and you just sat there for a moment collecting yourself before deciding to redress Harry. You two had been in the dressing room for way too long now and the post-orgasm clarity was starting to make you freak out about what you had just done.

You only got his button done up before Harry was picking you up off the floor and drawing you in for a heated kiss.

“God I fucking love you.” He murmured, kissing you over and over again while you giggled into his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, poking his chest. “We should do that again sometime.” You breathed through a laugh while zipping up his pants for him. You were a little in disbelief at what just happened. 

“We should,” Harry smirked, reaching between you to zip up your jeans and do the button for you. “Though next time it’ll be you trying to keep quiet and we both know you have a harder time keeping your noises to yourself.”

“That’s so not true!” you scoffed, turning to the mirror so you could fix your hair. “I can keep completely silent thank you very much,” you couldn’t, not when you were with Harry anyway. 

“You’re such a liar.” He laughed, shaking his head while taking the lace shirt off so he could put his own clothes back on. You watched him through the mirror, still overly horny and unsatisfied. Seeing his bare chest just made you want his cock in your mouth again. Or better and far more satisfying, inside you. “I can very easily prove you wrong though, I hope you know that.” 

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and then without any warning felt Harry press his chest into your back while he wrapped his hand around your neck. Your eyes widened and you felt your head go dizzy when he applied pressure just in the right spots. 

“I’ve been very generous to you today, baby, and while having my cock in y’mouth is a very nice thank you, I don’t think it warrants attitude, does it?” he murmured, making eye contact with you in the mirror while running his nose up the length of your neck. 

Fuck me. 

God, you wished he would. 

You swallowed thickly, a little overwhelmed at how dominant he became in a flash. You had almost forgotten what it was like to have him so in control and so powerful. Since you got together he had been so soft and loving. The parts of him that would correct you and reprimand you when you broke eye contact or showed a hint of attitude had significantly softened. They hadn’t disappeared altogether, your sex and your life together was still playful and Harry was most definitely in charge, but with your lives being so busy and having so many things to work through, it was clear to both of you that things had changed. 

You just hadn’t really spoken about it. 

But you didn’t want to forget. You didn’t want Harry to think that he couldn’t push boundaries anymore or be rough with you just because you two were in a relationship. In the beginning you knew he didn’t want to overstep because things were so emotionally raw still, but now that things were good between you two… 

You put it down to not having time, which was a big part of the problem. Still, you missed it.

“N-no…” You breathed, sliding your hand to cover the one he had around your neck, “No, it doesn’t.”

“Exactly. So?” He prompted with a raised brow, caressing his fingers up and down the sides of your neck with little pressure. 

“‘M sorry, Daddy.” 

The title slipped out easily, naturally. It was never going to be part of your lives 24/7 because that wasn’t your dynamic, but you two were clearly still playing and you were still in the high of sucking him off. It was just so easy to let go of all thoughts and issues when he took control like this. 

“Good girl, angel.” He smiled, manoeuvring your face to the side so he could kiss you and look at you directly. You savoured the kiss, craving that closeness even when he pulled away to run his thumb over your lips. “Are you still hungry?”

You nodded. “Very.”

“Good.” His eyes softened and he couldn’t resist kissing you again. “Wait outside then, okay? I’ll get dressed then we’ll drop our bags to the car and go get dinner.” 

“Okay.” You nodded again, wanting nothing more than to just cling to him and never let you go. Still, you did what he asked and cautiously slipped out of the room, thankful that the one person standing out there paid no attention to you or even Harry when he exited his fitting room a minute later.

It was decided during your dinner together that you’d go back with Harry to his house. After spending such a nice day together, you didn’t really want to go home. You knew you should’ve, especially since you still had one assignment to go before you could focus on studying for your exams, but you knew that you wouldn’t get anything done after the week you’ve had whether you were with Harry or without him.

And you’d much rather be with him. 

When you got to his home, you wanted to try everything on again just to make sure you liked what you got in case you changed your mind. Fitting room mirrors can give you the best or worst confidence in the world and you always need to see things in your own house (or Harry’s in this case) to make a final decision. While Harry didn’t quite understand your logic, he was happy to sit in his nice armchair and watch you try everything on for him. 

Harry found it quite adorable the way you analysed yourself. The look of concentration and slight furrow in your brow as you observed yourself from every angle. Harry liked everything on you of course, but he quickly learnt you still needed to hear it from him at least three times before you believed it. 

“Okay, last one.” You declared, emerging from his walk-in closet where you just looked at the dress for a solid three minutes before wanting Harry’s opinion. 

“It’s gorgeous. I love the colour on you.” Harry beamed, fingers laced together with his elbows resting on his parted knees. He scanned your body, thinking that this one was possibly his favourite dress of the day. “Makes your bum look great.”

“Stop.” You scoffed, laughing while looking back in the mirror. You were able to see it from the doorway of his walk-in robe, which was handy. “Seriously, though. You don’t think it washes me out?”

“No. I think it suits you perfectly. It’s different from other dresses you have too.” 

You didn’t quite understand how Harry had the patience to sit through a haul like this. Your dad never did, even when you forced him to at least pretend to be interested and yet Harry acted like every outfit was the newest, greatest thing he had ever seen. If it were even possible, you loved him more for it. 

“That’s what I was thinking. I wanted a few things that are a bit more unique, y’know? Even though I’ll probably end up wearing the same things all the time anyway.” You laughed to yourself, eyes focused on the dress. You tilted your body side to side, watching how the fabric flowed around you. “So you definitely like it?”

Barely a minute after his second assurance and you needed another. Harry would happily tell you how beautiful you are a million times if that made you happy. 

“Yes.” Harry nodded, “1000%”

“1000% huh?” You grinned at him. He nodded with an equally happy smile. “Okay then. I’m satisfied with my purchases now and I feel justified.” You announced it like you were proud of the outcome, even though you didn’t buy a single item of anything that you tried on for Harry. He fucking loved it though. If you ordered him to buy you a new car or a $20,000 bag he’d do so in a heartbeat then need to fuck you because of how much it turned him on.

“Good.” Harry laughed, sitting back in his chair. “C’mere, baby.” He motioned you over to him, letting you step between his parted before he wrapped his arms around your hips. You smiled down at him, slinging your arms around his neck.

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” He smiled, hugging you closer to him. “Are you feeling better after this morning?”

Your smile faltered and suddenly the happiness you got from your little shopping spree disappeared into thin air. It was nothing but a quick distraction, easily ruined by a reality check. You couldn’t blame Harry though. All he did was check in on you.

You nodded and started twirling the hair at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “Yeah… it was nice to have the distraction. There’s just been so much shit going on at the moment and I feel like I haven’t breathed properly for weeks. I just want to have a clear head for once, y’know? Just not think about anything.” you sighed, looking down for a moment.

“I can help with that,” Harry said softly, tilting your head up with his index finger so you were forced to look at him. “You know that right, y/n? I can give you anything you want…” his voice dropped an octave and you were instantly aware that he wasn’t offering a listening ear. Your breath hitched and your body completely tensed up in his arms, “...anything you need.” 

“I know…” you whispered, unable to look anywhere except right into his darkening gaze.

“So let me…” he urged, “Do you want me to clear your head for you?...” he scanned your face, sliding the tip of his index finger from your chin down to trace along your neck. It was a trail of fire. Just the path of his fingertip was making you need to claw out of your own skin and he had barely touched you. It felt like he hadn’t properly touched you for weeks. “To take away all your stress and your thoughts… let you be completely relaxed?”

You were practically trembling in his touch. One hand was squeezing your waist and the other was trailing patterns over your neck and your collarbones, down to the modest neckline of your dress. You were dying. 

“I can take full control if you want me to, y/n. You just have to say the word.” He flattened his palm against your neck, making you flutter your eyes closed as he enclosed his hand around it. He applied no pressure, just a loose hold to show you what he could do to you. For you. “I can be Harry or Daddy… whatever you need. Anything you need.”

The way his mouth moved at the two clear syllables of ‘Daddy’ had you sweating. He was giving you every choice, every option so that he knew exactly what you needed and wanted. So that he could take the reigns and let you sink into your submissive bliss. 

You needed that more than anything else in the entire world.

“I…” your words faltered, even as you forced yourself to look at him. “I need you, Daddy. Please.”

Harry nodded, scanning your face once more as the side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly in the softest smile he could muster. “I love you and I’m so proud of you for everything you’re achieving, y/n. It takes a lot of strength and endurance to be as strong as you have been.” Now it was your heart that was trembling. “Now let me do it for you. You’re gonna be a good girl for me, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes-yes, thank you.” You nodded eagerly, wanting to sink into his arms so he could take the weight off your feet for you. If he could walk for you, you would’ve let him. 

“Good. I want to take you back to Pleasing.”

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[madelinemccoolname]

Slime girl hrt

So, you’ve decided you’re a slimegirl. I’ve been on fluid replacement therapy, commonly referred to as slime hrt or shortened to frt, for five years but I haven’t managed to find a decent guide on the effects I’ve been experiencing anywhere on the internet. So I’ve decided to make this little guide for anyone who might still be on the fence. Keep in mind obviously I don’t speak for everyone and other goorl’s timelines might look a little bit different based on like genetics or something.

0-6 months

• For the first 3 months the effects are, I’m told, similar to estrogen’s first couple months, you’ll notice for sure your skin getting softer, your face might round out a bit, but the most you get are the side effects

• I personally was not prepared for how thirsty I got, I had heard about it but you really don’t know how much of your body isn’t liquid until you’re replacing all of it

• At 4 months is when I noticed my skin and body were moving kinda differently, tho this got the most pronounced at 6 months

• At 6 months all of my skin rippled like the surface of a pond whenever anyone touched me or like if the wind started blowing

• My joints got a lot more flexible, and my elbows and knees became double jointed (don’t do this too much)

• My hair didn’t get tangled overnight anymore

• My finger prints went away

6-12 months

• Here’s where the real magic starts, I got a lot thirstier for one and specifically had cravings for gatorade, I think this has something to do with slimegirls being partially salt water, but it could also be the food coloring in it (this is a joke about me drinking a lot of light blue gatorade and then being light blue)

• On the subject of color my skin got a sort of blue tinge to it, and most notably got completely see through by my 8 month mark

• The changes start from the thinnest part of your body and goes in towards your core, so even by 5 months your fingertips might be completely clear

• This next part is partially why I wanted to make this guide, so obviously your body doesn’t liquify at the same rate all over, for me this meant I was able to see the muscle in my upper arms if I looked through my fingers, this is both normal and something you’re going to have to get used to as you continue your journey

• Your toes are also going to turn at the same rate, this will probably be your first experience with lint getting in your slime bits, you don’t need to worry about your bloodstream getting infected with sock but regularly picking out bits is good hygiene and something you wanna get into the habit of

• My hair officially finished it’s transition into one solid shape, it still had defined follicles but if you tried to grab a strand of hair the rest would try to come with it

• People also started to ask me who dyed my hair, please note it’s always funny to say “it’s the way Goo-d made me” in response to this

12-24 months

• This window is larger than the others because all you’re going to notice from now on are the big changes

• Avoid tanktops past 14 months, your arms should be entirely translucent at this point and while having a buncha stuff floating around in my goo is kinda gender for me, people generally do not like to see slightly dissolved organs and ribcage

• 14 months was also when I noticed that my arm bones had entirely disappeared, my leg bones were also just barely holding in there, moving without bones was so freeing

• if you ever want anyone you know to stick their fingers in your slime, now’s probably the first time anyone's willing to stick their fingers far into your arms and legs, try to get them to wiggle their fingers. if they’re really adventurous they’ll stick their whole arm through to the other side, which still makes me a little squeamish

• Now that we’re at the part where I was mostly slime, we should probably talk about slime color. I’m going to dispel this misinformation, there is no way to find out what color a slimegirl is going to be before she starts transitioning. Some people say its eye color but that’s a lie. I am naturally a blue slime girl but my eyes pretransition were green. To dispel another myth you can dye yourself with food coloring, so you don’t even really have to stress about it

• By 18 months the only part of me that wasn’t slime was my head, the skull takes the longest time to dissolve because you’re doing the skull and all the organs in there all at once, see the human body really really wants to keep the brain safe, so when your brain gets the signal to get rid of your bones, it just does it all at once

• Some people say their eyesight got better, tho that seems to be anecdotal (mine stayed the same sadly)

• 18 months is also when I started experimenting with my shape. This was probably the most frustrating part of it for me, shapeshifting your goo is like a muscle, the more you do it the easier it’ll get. If you want a specific shape, spend enough time in it, and it’ll become your default shape, though you’ll never forget your original shape.

• 24 months is the last point I want to cover, by 24 months I was 100% liquid, the heavy viscosity from early transition leads to something closer to a liquid jello. I can detach parts of my body and then move to replace it, and I can reabsorb the parts I leave behind

• Clothes should rest just on the surface of you, though I know a lot of girls just change themselves to look clothed (probably more than you think ;)

• Suspenders and heavy cardigans break surface tension for me, luckily that's also a cute look so sometimes I match my cardigan with overalls for an aquarium effect on the overall straps

• This was also when I stopped breathing and going to the bathroom

• Some people report “knowing” when certain parts of their brain turn into goo, I didn’t experience that but it certainly could happen

Things I didn’t know where else they would fit

• I feel like a lot of this post was mainly dry, so in the interest of avoiding having a dry slime girl post, this section will mostly just be slime things that brought me joy

• I love speaking in slime puns, I keep a little book of slime puns and slant rimes just in case the slime arises that i would ever ooze some

• Being out in the rain or being out on a windy day is so much better when you can feel your entire body move in the wind, in particular go out on a rainy day without anything on, and lay down on the ground, the rain rippling through your entire body is heavenly

• Speaking of weather, when I first noticed I was refracting light on a sunny day I almost started crying, I felt so pretty and right :)

• I said I stopped needing to use the bathroom, but I still do siphon off some goo once a month. Mostly this is to get out bits of trash that accumulate and also because it feels exactly like taking a shower after a hard sweaty day’s work

• Speaking of bits, get a powerful magnet and metal shaving and you could probably waste a whole day just moving metal shavings through your body

• This might be a bit late in the guide for this, but when my arms finally turned I pulled a great prank on my at the time girlfriend by sticking my hand into a blender (do not do this if you still have bones, or value your girlfriend not being really really mad at you)

So that's all you need to know before starting frt, becoming the slime of your dreams is a difficult and beautiful process. I know a lot of what i described here might be frightening but if it sounds enticing at all know that it’s worth it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

"Stevie, I am begging you, please don't tell Wayne."

Eddie was bleeding.

He was on the floor and he was bleeding.

Steve was standing in the doorway, shocked into silence, watching Eddie try to put pressure on a wound that should have mostly scarred over by now.

His last checkup had been good, they'd even said the stitches could come out on his next visit, and he could officially start physical therapy.

So why was he fucking bleeding?

"Dammit. Can you grab a wrap from my room?" Eddie asked him, tone entirely too calm.

"Shouldn't I take you to the hospital?" Steve managed to ask.

Eddie's head turned to him, eyes widening as he seemed to realized what was happening.

"No, I- this is kinda normal? It's happened a couple times," he tried to smile, shrug it off.

"A couple of times?! Eds, this isn't normal. They gotta stitch you up better or something, c'mon I can take you," Steve leaned in and tugged on the arm he was using to hold himself up, ready to take his weight and help him out the door.

"No!" Eddie sighed. "We can't."

"I can call Wayne, then, and he can come get you-"

"Stevie, I am begging you, please don't tell Wayne."

Steve froze.

How long had Eddie been hiding how bad this was?

"You haven't even told Wayne? Eds, you should be mostly healed. You were mostly healed at your last visit! What's happening?" Steve was doing his best to stay calm, but calm went out the window when he thought about Eddie being taken from them long after the threat was gone.

"I ripped a stitch a few days ago, so I've just tried to be careful, but sometimes I move wrong. It'll stop bleeding in a minute. It looks worse than it is," his eyes were pleading for Steve to just drop it, let him handle it on his own.

But Steve was not about to let something go wrong, not when it came to Eddie.

"I'm taking you to the hospital. I'm calling Wayne. You can hate me if you want, but I'd rather that than have to tell Dustin that you bled out on your fuckin' bathroom floor." Steve put his hand over Eddie's on his side, applying more pressure. "Can't believe you ripped your stitches and didn't tell anyone."

"I was handling it!"

"Poorly. Handling it poorly."

Eddie huffed, but surprisingly didn't argue further.

He actually stayed quiet for most of the ride to the ER, even kept his gaze lowered when Wayne walked into the room he was being stitched back up in.

He remained silent on the ride home, preferring to ride with Steve while Wayne followed behind in his truck.

He didn't wait for either of them before making his way to his bedroom.

"Thanks for callin'," Wayne said to Steve as he watched Eddie close the front door behind him. "You can head out, I'll stay with him until the kids come by tomorrow."

"If it's alright, I think I'd like to stay," Steve hesitantly replied. "I'll take the couch. Just don't wanna be too far."

Wayne looked him up and down, much like he'd done the first night Steve refused to leave Eddie's side in the hospital.

Whatever he found, he seemed to accept, smiling at Steve.

"Might as well stay in his bed. Gotta keep a close eye on that one," Wayne winked and walked inside without an answer from Steve.

A close eye was really all Steve had intended, but of course, when they woke up tangled together the next morning, his intentions started to shift.

They shifted more when Eddie, half-asleep and on some minor pain meds, pressed a soft kiss to Steve's chest before falling back asleep.

——————————————————————

I could have done anything with this line and I chose dramatics. Happy Tuesday.

ATTENTION: I reached 5! This is 1/5 and the rest will probably be posted throughout today.

[002yb]

Damian draws Jason and Dick in some kind of romantic setting (holding hands, maybe) and *that* is how Bruce finds out about DickJay... At first he's a bit confused, but then he starts to pay attention to the signs, and they are all there.

No thoughts, just Damian sketching life around him more often than not. A habit that starts when all the galas become grating and the 'eccentric artist' persona grants him some peace by virtue of Damian minding his business and looking both unapproachable and busy.

Because it's actually enjoyable, it carries over into casual outings, too. Bruce doesn't mind it, either. Is supportive of it, in fact. It keeps Damian out of trouble.

Bruce never having been too curious about what Damian draws until one day while they're visiting Clark on his farm, Bruce looks over Damian's shoulder and sees Damian is drawing Clark (who is working the farm and looking like a dream while doing it - sleeves rolled up, buttons undone, hair mused and muscles--)

"Is that appropriate?"

"It depends where your thoughts are, father."

To say that Bruce is amused at Damian's cheek is an overstatement.

That besides, seeing Damian draw something so scandalous sets off the overbearing, overprotective parent in Bruce because what else is his son drawing in the pursuit of 'art'? Damian's hardly a child anymore; more a sullen, broody teenager than anything. Bruce remembers what it's like. Hormones. Urges. Damian's interests in all things social would have died alongside the abrupt shift of his relationship with Jon years ago (the abrupt aging, the equally abrupt dating…his poor boy…), so it's not beyond the realm of possibility that Damian would turn to smut for--

And Damian clicks his tongue at him although Bruce has said nothing. They've been partners for years though, so it's no stretch to imagine that Damian was privy to Bruce's racing thoughts.

"It's no wonder Grayson is the way he is."

Usually this would be a compliment, but in this instance Bruce feels distinctly insulted. He just wouldn't know how.

He's calling you a pervert degenerate, sir. Dick's compatriot in foul-mindedness.

The drawing of Clark being utterly mundane. But because Bruce is a thirsty bitty, he projects the superbats UST onto Damian who is really not about this life, SOS

Also, Jon and Damian being fine contrary to Bruce's beliefs. Unless they're not. That's not the point of this ask, disregard.

So Damian tries to diffuse the situation and spare himself by blandly stating: "I've drawn you before, too."

Which is absolutely the wrong thing to say because Bruce's mind makes impossible leaps once again to: oh, my boy needs therapy.

To which Damian clicks his tongue again because omfg, Bruce is actually worse than Grayson. Disgusting.

So Damian flips a few pages back (the pages in between being normal, mundane life happenings -- socialites milling about the gala the night before, the wait staff prepping in the kitchen, Alfred mending a button on a shirt, etc) and then, ah.

It's Bruce. Tucked away in his study, finishing up work he had to bring home from the office. Tie thrown over his shoulder, furrow in his brow and face squished by his own hand. Focused, intent, and woefully oblivious because while he remembers Damian being there sat on the couch, he can't recall that he'd been doing this. Huh.

Bruce being so amazed and pleased because look at that, his boy is an artist.

But then, with lines merged into those that make up Bruce's likeness is another moment captured. Alongside a couple others that could fit onto the page

Not inappropriate, per se, but disarmingly intimate nonetheless

Dick, he would recognize. And Jason?

The way Bruce would be utterly bemused because oh. There's nothing so defined; that's not the point of these exercises Damian does, but it's there regardless. A closeness and familiarity. Softness.

Bruce would have to wonder if this is how Damian saw them or how he sees them; knows it's both

And it's curious, because Bruce has never...

He'd linger on those drawings. Of Dick and Jason sat next to each other, Dick's arm thrown over the back of Jason's chair and leaned over into Jason's space -- Jason being drawn in just the same to look over something on Dick's phone.

And more: with Jason laid back, propped up on his elbows and keeping Dick away with his foot. Dick's hand wrapped so casually around the arch, bending Jason's leg. The follow up after Jason must have reversed their positions, with Jason sat on Dick's hips and leaning back against Dick's propped up legs, his own legs hiding Dick's face, but all his intention showing in the steady hold of his hand at Jason's knee

Bruce leafs through the rest of the sketchbook. Seeking out more. Captivated by it because somehow he missed something important. It's right here, too. Alongside so many other mundane things from their everyday lives.

Hidden among other sketches in varying degrees of completion, lost between strangers and landscapes and animals and individual portraits are his boys, at ease and content and oh, what a beautiful thing that is

And Damian misses the memo of where Bruce's thoughts wander, still grumbling under his breath about Bruce projecting his unresolved whatever with Clark on him, gross. Accusing Damian of drawing smut. Even if Bruce was interested in commissioning, Damian won't do it even if it's Bruce asking. Damian has his line and this is it.

From then on, Bruce being mindful of Dick and Jason's interactions. Subtly observing. And it would be right there, though it's discreet. Bruce would catch the affection in bumped shoulders and playful shoves; games of chase around the cave or across rooftops. It would be there in their briefs/debriefs, with Dick's chair turned closer to Jason. Or with Jason brushing his pinky against Dick's before pulling away, shy and with his hand hiding his blush.

It's the lingering looks and the bitten back smiles; the bright eyes and the quiet, joyful warmth.

And Bruce should say something, do something. It's a liability, a risk, a distraction, but the relief would leave Bruce loathe to intrude. Because he can't remember the last time he saw and was able to appreciate either Dick or Jason being so happy. He'd almost forgotten what it looked like.

So for once, Bruce minds himself. And he stays quiet. And he contents himself with observing, same as Damian.

Who very cheekily frames that picture of Clark and leaves it on Bruce's nightstand with a note to keep his depravities to himself, thanks

[starlightazriel]

bad boy az 6

warnings: 18+, 16/18 age gap, angst, some smut not with reader (please dont kill me), self loathing, self sabotage, childhood trauma affecting relationships, loneliness, heartbreak, underage drinking, underage drug/alcohol abuse, toxic masculinity, lots of time jumps, kind of a filler chapter

a/n: i know it hurts :') hold my hand

azriel masterlist

wc: 3.9k

Her words swirled in Azriels mind. They were like torture.

He knew he had fucked up, he knew she didnt deserve the way that he was treating her. What had she even done wrong? Just try to love him? He was trying to get the point across that he was unloveable the only way he really knew how. Self destruct. It was easier than letting her in. It was easier than taking that giant risk of abandonment. The risk of letting her get too close, once she did he knew she would realize how much of a worthless shit bag he was.

She was smart, beautiful, she had a future ahead of her. It wasnt his place to distract her. No matter if she was right or not. Anger and hate were the easiest emotions, they came naturally, they didnt make him nervous... They didnt turn his stomach or scare him, they were all he knew. Being a lonely hateful burn out was the easiest solution.

His heart ached. He didnt want her to think he was a monster. He wanted to chase after her, to call her, to apologize and tell her she was right. To tell her that he did feel something every time they were together even if he couldn't make sense of what it was. He knew the closer she got the sooner she realized that dick truly was the only thing he had to offer. So tonight Azriel would do what he did best and push all his feelings down with a night of partying, it was Friday night after all. He opened his thread with Rhys and typed out a quick message to him. what are we doing tonight

It only took a few minutes for Rhys to respond. frat party come over whenever to pre

ahhhhht college pussy just what i need

therapy is what you really need az

pussy is therapy

you're a mess

He didnt have to see him to know Rhys was chuckling and shaking his head at him. Azriel tossed his phone to the side before he started to get ready. He didnt really intend on fucking anyone though, he knew it wouldn't fill the void that was eating at him.

-

Azriel was already drunk when the three of them arrived at the party. That was normal, they never seemed to know where to stop when pregaming before anything. The three of them just had too much damn fun together. Tonight wasnt only about pleasure though, he knew he needed to stop fucking around so much and get the rest of the pills off he had on him tonight. He was already going to owe Rhys for how much he had been dipping into his stash the past couple weeks.

Azriel stood alone by the kitchen, breaking off from Rhys and Cass, he knew he was more approachable when they weren't by his side. He figured the three of them together probably looked kind of scary. He held a drink in his hand, surveying the crowd carefully.

He found himself wondering what y/n was doing, wondering how she was spending the rest of her friday night after he had yet again, hurt her. He knew that if she kept coming around him, kept believing in him, kept loving him as she said she did. She would just keep getting hurt. Azriel didn't know how to change for her, he didn't know how to be right for her... All he knew was that all he had done thus far was introduce her to partying, sex, drinking, and smoking weed... And hurt her. None of those things were positive. She was a smart, shining, beautiful little nerd that he had tainted with his presence. He knew that she was one hundred percent better off without him, and he guessed that was why he subconsciously continued to destroy whatever was going on with them. He really didnt know why he did the things he did, he was just fucked up, he supposed.

He wondered if Maggie had took her out to one of the high school parties to get her mind off of things. His stomach turned at the thought, he imagined James approaching her again without him there. His grip tightened on the cup, it crinkled slightly. He couldn't help himself when he opened his phone, his finger hovering over their conversation. it was the liquor maybe or just the fact that he couldn't bare to think about the things that might happen to her without him by her side to protect her. He guessed maybe, that was one thing he was good for. Keeping her safe. if you're out don't do anything stupid, stay with your friends

"I didn't expect to see anyone from school here," he focuses at the female voice, looking up from his phone, he had been spacing out.

"I belong here," he smirks, sliding his phone into his pocket. He looks down his nose at Stacy Willet. She was in Azriels class, they'd be graduating together. "You're the one who's out of place, how'd you even get an invite?" he adds, looking at her from head to toe, little heels, tight dress, several silver necklaces, bangles, and earrings adorned her silky skin. She was hot, basic compared to y/n but she still looked good.

She had hated Azriel for getting gum stuck in her hair when they were kids on the bus, but something had changed eventually, once she had gone through puberty and decided he was hot. He knew she wanted to fuck him, he had never really given her the time of day though, he liked it better when girls weren't so easy, made him work for it at least a little. Plus, she had snitched on him after all, even if it was just third grade.

"You're so cocky, but I bet you can't even back it up," her lips turned up into a little sneer of a smirk as she met Azriels eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he drops his voice slightly, turning his chin up slightly at her. This was a nice distraction, though he couldn't help but compare every single thing about her to y/n.

She blushes, he can see it but she doesn't change her expression, she just keeps smirking up at him. "Where's your sophomore?" she quirks a brow, Azriel could feel his expression harden, his face twists slightly in annoyance.

"She's not my sophomore," he snaps, looking away from her now as if she was becoming boring. More annoying than boring really.

"Simmer down bad boy, I'm just saying, she's been following you around since the beginning of school like a lost puppy. I mean why settle for that when you could have this?" she asks, her tone is smooth, like honey, and she gestures down to her body. He scoffed quietly, little did she know that she was nothing next to y/n. She was very curvy though, he had to give her that at least, giant tits, fat ass, slim waist.

"You trying to test my gangster?" his lips twitch slightly and he leans in closer, her breath hitches. Girls were too damn easy for him, they always had been, all he had to do was look down at them with that burning hazel gaze under those thick dark lashes he had. She swallowed, regaining her composure. "Watch your mouth," he warns, his jaw flexing slightly.

"Or what?" she challenges, batting her eyelashes at him. "I'm just saying, you can do way better Azzie, some girls even know what they are doing," she smirks, he grits his teeth a little, he wanted to choke her out and tell her not to ever speak about y/n again. Or call him Azzie. No one was allowed to call him that. Maybe y/n, but not Stacy Willet.

"You can show me," the words are coming out before he even thinks them through and before he knows it, she's giggling and pulling him into the bathroom by the collar of his shirt.

She presses him against the door, pressing her lips to his and his hands quickly find her ass, squeezing tightly. "So fat," he grunted quietly into her mouth, earning a small moan from her, he couldn't help but get annoyed at the whiny high pitched noise. "Shut up," he says and presses his large hand against the top of her head, pushing her down to her knees. "Show me what I've been missing then Stace, maybe I'll put it in your hair," he smirked down at her, she gives him a dirty look, recalling the third grade gum incident, he frees himself from his boxers and her eyes widened at the size.

"Okay, so you can back it up," she whispers, swallowing hard before she wraps her lips around Azriels cock. He bites his lip, tan skin flushed as he grips the back of her head and begins fucking her face. Her nails dig into his thighs but he doesn't moan. He was here to get his nut off and that was it, get out some of his frustration, distract himself. He watches as she gags and chokes on his size, tears running down her face, it was annoying but he couldn't stop wondering how y/n would have sucked his cock if he'd given her the chance. She wanted to one day, but hadn't let her, it would have felt too intimate to guide her through that, their eyes locking while he told her everything she needed to do to make him cum. They had fucked often, he had eaten her pussy for an hour before, but it was only ever that... There was no love making, no intimate touches or long eye contact. He didn't do that.

But even fucking this hot girls face couldn't seem to get his mind off of y/n.

"You're not convincing me yet," he smirks down at Stacy, putting his attention back on her, he saw anger flash in her eyes and she pulled off of him, pulling her dress up and she bent herself over the counter. "That's a little better," he chuckles quietly before he smacks her ass. She moans again. "I said be quiet," he repeats before he starts fucking her hard, her hips slam into the counter top. He had to admit, it looked like a porno, her fat ass bouncing perfectly on his cock. It still wasn't enough though, it wasn't her.

"Where have you been?" she moaned again and he pulled out of her, he just couldn't take it anymore, he could barely even stay hard or focus on anything and y/n was haunting his thoughts and Stacy's voice was just so fucking unbelievably annoying.

"I told you to shut up, you ruined it." he pulls his pants back up, she scoffs, her face mortified as she watches him.

"What? So that's it?!" she scrambles to stand, pulling her dress back down to cover herself. "You're not even gonna finish?" her lips part and she looks at him with disappointment.

"You told me you could show me and you didn't show me shit you couldn't even keep your mouth shut," he shrugs before adding, "but you better keep your mouth shut about this," he gestures between the two of them before leaving her dumbfounded in the bathroom alone.

Now to get these damn pills all off before he could get really fucked up.

-

Monday morning came and Azriel was back at school. They had allowed him time off for the passing of his father but he had already been out for a week and it was time to go back before he got too behind. It wasnt like he was grieving anyway, if anything it was a relief that his dad was gone.

His heart nearly leapt from his chest when he saw y/n standing by her locker, bright and early before first period.

"Hey butterfingers," he leans up against the locker beside hers, she nearly jumps, her eyes flickering to his for a brief moment before staring back to her locker. He didn't like that, he didn't like how she looked away so fast, the distant look in her eyes. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he gathered courage. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the other day. I shouldn't have put my hands on you like that, I know it's not an excuse but I've got a lot-"

"It's fine Azriel," she says quietly, her face softening a little as she turns to meet his eyes. She studied him then, and he hated when she did that. He felt so naked and vulnerable when she looked at him like that. He averted his gaze, he couldn't handle the eye contact. Not with knowing what he'd done just a couple nights ago.

"You got anything planned today? I was thinking we could kick it. Just work on homework or something, as friends," he adds the last part only because he noticed a flicker of hope in her eyes. It may have been a little selfish but he just needed to be around her, at least for a little while, he missed her presence so much, he was so damn lonely without her in his life. He knew it had to be only because it was so fresh. By this time next year he wouldn't even remember her, he told himself.

It was her turn to look away, at the word friends, and he didn't miss the way she tugged her books tighter to her chest. He didn't miss the sad look in her eye when she looked back at him and spoke. "Yeah, that would be nice Az," she says softly, and he wonders if it even would be nice for her, if she even meant it, or if she just felt bad for him.

-

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," Maggies voice is what interrupts me as I look up from my book, I was sitting in the library, catching up on some reading during lunch period.

"Not now," I sigh quietly, holding the book in my hands, my eyes still fixed on her.

"No. I need to tell you this," she sits down across from me, I glance over at the school librarian who is shooting daggers at us.

"Fine but be quiet, it's a library," I remind her, whispering.

"Okay," she says, her voice now also a whisper. "Please don't shoot the messenger but Olivia told me that Kayley told her that Stacy Willet fucked Azriel at a college party on friday," my mouth goes dry at her words, my fingers tightening on the book.

"On friday?" I repeat slowly, my heart felt like it was cracking in half in my chest, all over again. I recalled the way Azriel had treated me on friday, recalled the fact that we had sex on friday. And then he had sex with her? I felt numb. Embarrassed and dumb for saying the things I said to him before I had left. Obviously he didn't feel a single thing for me.

"I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you," she whispers back, reaching out to grab my hand.

"No," I say, shaking it off and pulling my hand out of hers. "It's fine, we aren't even together," I shrug it off, burying my face back into my book, I could feel her staring at me. I could cry later, alone in my room. Not here, not at school.

"Okay, well I'll see you later, text me okay?" she stands back up, still looking at me hesitantly, as if she didn't believe I was really okay. I hadn't exactly told her I loved him, but she knew almost everything else, she knew my feelings were strong. I only nodded in response, giving her a forced reassuring smile.

It was true though, we weren't dating. Technically he could do whatever he wanted to. It just hurt. It cut deep. It made me wonder if I truly had been imagining everything between us. I should have known better than to fall for someone like him.

-

"Would you like to explain to me, why in the fuck everyone knows we had sex when I specifically told you not to tell anyone?" Azriel growls at Stacy at the end of the school day, standing by her locker.

"Well, we did," she turns, smirking at Azriel. Clearly she had gotten over her upset from the other night, because she looked at him with that same playful look she had before he had fucked her, well started fucking her. He scoffs quietly and just shakes his head.

"Barely. And this is why I don't bother with whores like you, you just had to run your fat mouth didnt you?" her gaze flickers at the name calling but she shrugs.

"Next I'll tell them you couldn't even stay hard," she bites back, but Azriel only rolls his eyes.

"You think I give a fuck? I couldn't stay hard 'cus you're too fucking annoying," anger and maybe hurt flashes in her eyes at his words but he doesn't give her time to come up with anything else he just turns and walks away. He exits the school before pulling his car to its usual spot that he waited for her.

Azriel waited for y/n, leaning against his car and puffing on a cigarette like usual. He smirked a little when he saw her, but it quickly faded when he noticed that she was walking the other direction toward her house.

-

I was trying to walk fast, I wanted to get home as quickly as I possibly could. My bed was calling for me. I was tired of crying about Azriel. So I had promised myself earlier that today I would have one last final big cry before I forgot about him for good. Im not even half way home when I hear a car pull up next to me and I glance to the side to see Azriel.

His hair is disheveled, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and he raises a brow when my eyes meet his. So infuriatingly beautiful. I huff softly, my warm breath creating fog in the cold air. "What are you doing? We had plans didnt we butterfingers?" he asks, I hadn't stopped walking, so he was matching my pace now, his car slowly rolling forward beside me.

"You can stop pretending, Azriel," I mutter quietly, a bite in my tone, I tried to walk a little faster. It was crazy how quickly things could change, weeks ago I was spending every waking second that I could with him, now I wanted nothing more than to get as far as I possibly could away from him.

"I don't know what that means butterfingers," He says back and I shoot him a glare, not stopping for even a second. "Can you just stop for a minute and explain to me why you're acting like that?" I scoff, finally stopping and he hits the breaks, stopping his car as well. Hes turned toward me, studying me and I stare back at him.

"It means," I begin, my tone angry, almost hateful even, "that you can stop pretending that you want to be my friend, you can stop pretending that I am anything other than an annoying younger girl with a crush, you can stop pretending that you haven't only been fucking me for anything else other than homework help." Surprise flashes in his eyes, like it usually did when I spoke to him like this. "If you want help with homework you can pay me to tutor you," I add, my tone laced with venom, I swear I see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes before he speaks.

"If that's what it takes to spend time with you," his tone is softer now, his eyes too as he looks upon me. I almost fall for it, almost, before anger rips through me.

"You are so fucking unbelievable," I raise my voice at him now, staring into the car at him, my cheeks burned, my heart racing as he stared back at me. I could see right through him now, I couldn't understand how dumb I had been before. How blind. His jaw flexed.

"Where is this even coming from?" he asks, one hand still tightly gripping the steering wheel, his tanned knuckles turning white.

"Maybe it's coming from the fact that you fucked Stacy Willet right after fucking me?" I can't help it, it slips out. The anger the jealousy, the hurt, I knew he could read it all over my face as I watched him wince. "Friends don't do that to friends, Azriel," my voice drops a little as I feel the lump forming in my throat.

-

Azriels gut wrenches at her words, his jaw flexing tightly for what must have been the thousandth time in this conversation. What could he even say to that? He had fucked her, well at least started to. "Its like I made every single fucking moment we shared in my head," she continues, clearly not able to stop herself now that she started, his fingers grip tighter on the steering wheel, and he swallows again, trying to swallow the words that threatened to spill from his lips. "You say these fucking things, these things that make me feel like I actually might mean something to you. But they don't fucking mean anything to you. You just fucking spew shit from your mouth as if to just give me what I want so I leave you alone. Im going fucking crazy!" Her hands fall at her sides in exasperation, tears threatening to spill.

"And you think Im not?!" he can't hold it in anymore as the words begin to spill. "You think Im fucking not going crazy?" her lips part in surprise at the volume of his voice. "It's like ever since I fucking met you I can't fucking stay away from you. I can't get you out of my fucking head no matter what I do," his tone is harsh and biting, his body tense with anger and frustration. "You don't fucking get that Im not fucking good for you y/n. Ive done absolutely nothing except corrupt you since the moment I met you. You deserve so much better than I could ever give you. You are good, you are funny, intelligent, bright... Beautiful." he couldnt stop himself, he knew he was saying too much, making himself too vulnerable. "You don't realize that Im doing you a fucking favor. Someone like me doesn't get to be with someone like you. I fucked that dumb whore because that's what I do, I fuck things up, I hurt people. I didnt do it because I fucking wanted her I did it because Im fucking afraid y/n." she's staring at him, frozen in shock. "I can't fuck you without hurting you but I can't fucking stay away from you either, every fucking thought that crosses my fucking mind is about you. And you think Im not going crazy? You have turned my life absolutely fucking upside down and I don't do this shit, I don't understand this shit, I don't know how to navigate any of this shit. So I am so fucking sorry for wanting to be your friend," his voice starts to fizzle out slightly at his last few words, and his stomach churns with nerves, anxiety biting at him.

She says nothing, she only stares at him, and he had never felt so naked before in his life. He wanted to stay there, to wait and see what she was going to say, but he was afraid of that too.

"Yeah, that's what I fucking thought," is the last thing he utters before peeling off down the street.

-

a/n: thoughts & feelings? just bear with me 7 will have you screaming. this is a filler

[graveyardlifeguard]

Survivors Part 3

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14 of 9-1-1.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Notes: A little short but I needed to put all of this in one because the next part is uhhh.. the big one.

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

After showing Eddie the countless Fund Me pages I’ve unfortunately found, we decided to loop Carla in on the situation at hand.

“That’s a lot of Fund Me pages.” Carla states, agreeing with me.

I had shown Eddie all of the pages I had found, five to be exact, of which Carla was able to find three more. This had gone past just lying to us, this had turned into Sheila, if that was her real name, lying to thousands of people and scamming them out of money. I couldn’t imagine how someone would be capable of doing that but here we are.

“There’s Sheila and Charlie Burns of El Paso. Sheila and Charlie Young of Phoenix. Sheila and Charlie Watts of Santa Fe. It’s him, the same kid, every time. Just different last names in different states.” I trail off.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around this. How could someone just use their sick child as a cash grab to get out of working. Unless he wasn’t actually sick. I try once again to shake the thought out of my head but that last time I did that, it seems that I was correct in my thinking. Before I can voice my opinion on that idea, Eddie speaks up.

“Charlie did say they moved around a lot. That would explain the different accounts and different cities, but not the different names.”

Eddie has his arms crossed over his chest and I can just feel the irritation and disappointment rolling off of him in waves. He was a single parent with a sick child. Never once would he have EVER thought about throwing Christopher all over the internet to try and garner money. He had put in the work and the overtime himself to make sure that Chris was taken care of.

Carla chimes back in, still looking over one of the pages still pulled up on the laptop, “What did his mom say his illness was?”

I let out a dry, humorless laugh before replying, “She didn’t. Not really. Just said that it was an Auto-immune disorder.”

I can tell that Carla is becoming frustrated as well, she had taken care of Christopher for a while, so she knew the lifestyle that came with having a sick child. She had been to countless appointments with Eddie and Christopher. Whether it was a regular checkup, blood work or physical therapy, Carla had been there and seen the struggle that Chris had to go through sometimes.

“She did say that Charlie had to go to a lot of different doctors. Could be doctor shopping. Which if what you do when you’re really not sick, you’re just looking for a doctor to say that you are.”

It wouldn’t be the first time that this has ever been heard of unfortunately. There was a whole medical diagnosis for this exact thing, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Having someone, typically a parent, fake an illness or disorder on their child to gain sympathy or money from people wasn’t unheard of, but it was extremely rare. I had never seen it before, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t exist. Case and point, Sheila Leute. From beside me, I can see Eddie rubbing his hand over his face. Subconsciously, my left hand catches his and I begin rubbing the veins on top of his hand. Something he normally jokingly scolds me for, but in the moment, he seeks comfort in. We were feeding off of each other at this point. The frustration and sadness were palpable among the three of us.

“Well, we couldn’t be the only ones. Most of the Fund Me pages were shut down, but the comments are still up.” I turn the laptop towards Eddie so he can see what I am.

He reads a couple of comments out loud. He stops quickly with an “Oh God” escaping under his breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Carla and I. Carla beats me to the punch by asking what he read.

He lets out a frustrated sigh before reading, “I think she’s making her kid sick.”

Although I knew the possibility was there and was already a thought in my mind, it was an odd feeling to see that someone else had the same thought that I do. It was a reassuring in a sad way. Eddie shuts the laptop quickly after reading it. I can tell that the frustration had finally built up to his breaking point on the topic. Carla looks absolutely appalled as my head falls back onto Eddie’s arm. Carla leaves shortly after with Eddie and I moving towards the bedroom.

————

Once in the bedroom, we both begin our nighttime routines in silence. It’s not like were avoiding each other, it felt as though we were both trying to process all of the information we had just discovered. Getting into bed, Eddie pulls me tight into his chest, almost like I would disappear if he let go. Nothing is said for a moment before he finally breaks the silence.

“I love you.” Is all he says for the moment. He continues shortly after, now moving to where he can see my face.

“How can she do that to her own son? How can you take something so special as having a child and just use them as a prop to gain money from?”

The sadness in his voice is something I haven’t heard in a while. It’s something that I had not missed. Not in the slightest. Eddie had spent years by himself with Christopher. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the thoughts that he was having. Not about this.

“Eddie. There is no way for us to know why she would do something like this. As much as we would love to know, I don’t think this is something that we will ever get answers to. I know what you went through with Christopher. The sacrifices you had to make and still have to make occasionally. I can’t even begin to imagine the level of pain this brings you. All we can do now, with this knowledge, is doing something about it. We can help this little boy. We can work now to get him away from her. I’m going to call CPS in the morning and do a Wellness check on him. We’re going to save him Eddie, I promise you.”

Eddie stares at me for a moment. Not moving and not saying anything before he leans in and gives me a long kiss. It takes me by surprise for a second before I relax into the kiss. His hands are cupping my face with mine around his side. After a few minutes, he pulls away, breathless and kisses me on the forehead. He sits like that, lips stuck to my forehead before fully moving his head back. In his eyes, I see nothing but admiration. He looks at me as if I put the moon in the sky. I know that the look is reciprocated in my own eyes. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I know that this is where I am supposed to be. Here, with Eddie.

“I love you,” he repeats “I love you more than you will ever know. Thank you for constantly being a positive, reassuring light in my life.”

I smile up at him before giving him a soft kiss on the lips, my left hand cupping his cheek. “I love you Eddie Diaz, so much I think I might die.

He laughs before releasing me to roll over to turn off his table lamp. We hadn’t noticed but it was already midnight, and unfortunately, we both had to be at work in seven hours.

“Don’t do that. If you were to die, I’d have to find someone else who puts up with me as much as you do, and we both know the only person who would be able to do that is Buck.”

I laugh as we lower ourselves into the bed, not even realizing how tired we both are until our heads hit the pillows and were fast asleep.

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 3

Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Marshall and Y/N decide to celebrate a sobriety milestone but bad news get in the way.

Tag : -

A few weeks went by and you slowly started to adapt to what you could call your new normal. You were getting used to living with your friends and started working on your doctoral dissertation again, while going to meetings and making it to therapy. Every so often, you’d be invited to hang out in the studio with Talia and the boys and spend a couple of hours with them. However, most of your time was devoted to uni work so you didn’t hang out with them too much. In fact, today would be the first day you’d see them in a couple of weeks. If you were honest, you were particularly excited to see Marshall. The two of you had crossed path a number of times since you went on that drive and you always had a good time when you were with him. At that point, it was safe to say you had developed a harmless crush on him. Nothing major, but you did particularly enjoy looking at him and you were always happy to hug him hello and goodbye. You knew he would never be interested in you, so you simply decided to enjoy the sensation of feeling good in his presence.

The night after the two of you went on a drive, Talia had been grilling you with questions, but there was not much to say. The two of you had not talked about it but you were pretty sure she knew about your crush. She knew you too well anyway. Whatever, it was harmless, although she did make sure to always have you sit next to Marshall whenever she had the chance.

That day, you were happy for three reasons : first, it was Friday, which meant you would enjoy the weekend and some much needed rest from uni. Secondly, you were celebrating two months being sober. It hadn’t been without its trials, but you had made it so far and were extremely proud. Finally, you got to see Marshall. You were all smiles when you pushed the door to the studio and greeted everyone.

- Y/N, we have been waiting for you like you have no idea ! Jamal said.

- Oh really ? You asked in disbelief. Is that because you produce your best work whenever I’m around ? You asked with a smirk.

- Kind of, he answered jokingly. But it’s mostly because Marshall has been in a bad mood all day, which usually doesn’t happen when you’re around. So whatever it is, please work your magic and make our life bearable again, I beg of you, he added as he fell to his knees for good measure, in a very dramatic and theatrical way.

- Speaking of the devil, where is he ?

No one had time to answer your question, as Marshall came in the room, looking unnerved and slamming the door behind him. You looked at Talia, whose look confirmed that he was indeed in a bad mood. Everyone was silent.

- Now can we please give it a couple more tries and get that right ? Marshall asked exasperated.

- We’ve been working on that song for hours and nothing good came out, someone pointed out. How about we circle back to that later ?

- No, Marshall said coldly. We can get that thing to sound right and we will.

- Stubborn much ? Jamal asked jokingly before Marshall shot him a death glare.

You didn’t know if Marshall had seen you there or not but you weren’t sure as to whether or not greeting him was a good idea. You just sat next to Talia and stared at your phone as you were trying to finish reading a paper. You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings before you heard Marshall slamming his head against the mixing desk.

- Fuck. He said. We’re already behind on schedule. This album is going to be my last, I swear. If it ever even gets done.

- You already said that for the last one, Paul pointed out jokingly.

- Yeah well you know what ? I’m soon to turn fifty-two. I’m too old for that shit anyways, Marshall replied.

- Come on, dude. We have our good luck charm here today, Jamal said pointing at you.

You smiled shyly at Marshall, who seemed to ease a little.

- Hey there, he said before getting up to properly greet you. Sorry I didn’t say hi before. That was rude.

- It’s ok, you said as you hugged him. So… last album before you become an accountant ? You know, you could ask my dad for pointers, you said jokingly.

Marshall laughed and kissed your cheek.

- Ok, maybe I was being a bit dramatic and maybe it won’t be the last one, he said with a laugh.

Jamal looked at the two of you in disbelief, yet smiling.

- So he’s been an ass all day, and now that Y/N has been here for ten minutes, he’s laughing ?

Everyone laughed and Marshall raised his middle finger.

- Now that you’re in a better mood, can we PLEASE take a cigarette break ? Someone asked.

- Fine, Marshall said rolling his eyes, as most people left the room and he went back to his seat, scribbling in this notebook.

After a moment of silence, you decided to talk.

- I have News, you said.

- Good or bad ? He asked without looking up.

- Well, you tell me, you said with a smile, proudly showing your newly-earned sobriety chip.

He greeted you with a smile and pulled you in for a hug.

- I’m proud of you, he said before kissing you on the forehead, making you blush. We should celebrate.

- Really ? How so ?

- Dinner ? He offered.

- That sounds good, you said. How about you come tomorrow night ? I’ll cook !

- I’m intrigued, he said. So you’re beautiful, smart AND you can cook ?

- I would also showcase my dancing abilities, but you’d be too jealous, you joked, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he called you beautiful.

The two of you shared a laugh but were interrupted by people coming back from their break. They resumed the work and, thankfully for everyone, Marshall ended up being pleased by one of the versions they recorded.

The next day, you decided to go shopping for your celebration dinner. You decided to cook some French recipe. « Whatever you want, unless it’s frogs or snails » Talia had told you. A while ago, you may or may not have tried to get your friends to taste snails, which ended up in a complete disaster. You were excited to cook and were in a good mood when you arrived to the store. You quickly grabbed the items you needed but the joy left your body when you reached the register and saw Simon - your Simon - kissing a beautiful woman as they were grabbing a few items. He seemed happy as ever. You could not help but stare at them and wonder for how long they’d been together. Something about their demeanour made it feel like they’d been a couple for ages. As you lowered your gaze, in hope they wouldn’t notice you, Simon called your name.

- Y/N ?

- Simon. Hi, you said.

- You look… well, he pointed out.

- I am, thank you, you replied. How are you ?

- Good. Kind of busy.

- I figured, you couldn’t help but say, quickly staring at the beautiful lady he was with.

- I meant with work.

- Oh. Right. Well I’d love to chat but I have to go. Have a good one.

You paid and quickly left the store. For some reason, you felt humiliated, even though Simon had every right to date whoever he liked. After all, you hadn’t been together for nearly three months. Plus, Simon was the very définition of perfection : handsome, polite, successful. Looking back, it was kind of obvious he wouldn’t have trouble finding someone else. And it wasn’t exactly like he made a promise to wait for you either.

Even though you tried your best not to cry on the way home, you sniffled as you walked through the door.

- Baby, are you alright ? Talia asked.

- I saw Simon, today. Kissing someone.

As soon as the words left your lips, tears started to stream down your cheeks.

- Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry ! She said before giving you a much needed hug.

- I know it’s silly but some part of me thought that… I’d get better and we’d get back together and… and…

- I know. I thought you guys were endgame too, she said sheepishly.

She held you for a while as you sobbed.

- Let’s focus on the positive, honey ! Let’s celebrate those two months of you getting better. I’ll help you cook, she offered.

- Do you mind if we reschedule ? You asked. I don’t feel like celebrating. Or cooking. Or eating, for that matter.

- Are you sure, baby ? Marshall should be here soon. I promise we’ll have a good night, just the four of us, she tried.

- Yeah… can you call him and tell him I’m sorry ? I think I should go to my room and rest for a bit.

You apologised once again and left the items on the kitchen counter before going to your room. You changed into some sweatpants and a tank top and laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It dawned on you that Simon and you were truly over. Even though you tried thinking of something else, you couldn’t help but seeing him with that girl. She was truly beautiful. Probably more deserving of him, too. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing from your eyes. It felt like a fountain. Deep down, you knew it was your fault. You were the one who screwed up. He was the perfect match for you, you screwed up and now, you’d probably end up alone.

You heard a knock on the door.

- I’m fine, Talia, you said while wiping away your tears.

- It’s not Talia, you heard Marshall’s voice say. Can I come in ?

Marshall ? What was he doing here ? You quickly got up and opened the door.

- Hey, you said. I’m sorry, I told Talia to cancel for tonight. I’m feeling a bit under the weather…

- She told me about your ex, he said. But she thought we should do something to get your mind off things. Come here.

He pulled you in for a hug. He grabbed your face in his hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

- I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone’s face so swollen after crying, he said with a smile.

- I know, I’m an ugly cryer, you replied.

- Everyone’s ugly when they cry, he pointed out.

- No, that’s not true. Some people manage to stay hot even when they cry.

- Well I’ve never seen that, he said as he shook his head.

- I’m sure Ms. Perfection over there is still beautiful when she cries, you mumbled.

- Who ? Marshall asked, looking confused.

- The girl Simon was kissing. You should have seen her, Marshall. So beautiful. Tall. And blonde. And skinny. And perfect for him in every way. The opposite of me.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of her.

- As beautiful as she may be, I’m sure she can’t compete with you, Marshall said.

- You haven’t seen her, you pointed out.

- I don’t need to, he shrugged.

He was just being nice and you knew it full well. Still, the compliments made you feel a bit better.

- Why don’t you join Talia and Jamal ? Let me just put on something other than sweats and I’ll start cooking.

- I thought you wanted to cancel dinner ? He asked, looking confused.

- Yeah, but Talia still made you come all this way, so I might as well feed you.

- That’s awfully nice of you, he said with a grin.

- Nice of you to come, you said with a shy smile.

- Anything for you, Y/N, he replied with a serious tone. You can call me and I’ll be there.

- Good thing I don’t have your number, you said with a smile. You’d never live in peace otherwise.

- Let’s correct that, shall we ?

He grabbed your phone and entered his number in it.

- Now you can call me, he said. Anytime.

- Thanks, Marshall.

You gave him a shy smile and immediately rang him so he’d have your number too.

- I can help you cooking if you want, he offered. But I should warn you : I’m not too good at it.

- You’re a grown man and you can’t cook ? You asked in disbelief.

- Well I guess I can prepare food. I even worked as a short-order cook, a long time ago. I wouldn’t call that cooking though. Neither would my kids, he said with a grin.

- I’ll teach you a thing or two, then. Let me just get dressed.

- Why ? He asked. We’re staying in. You don’t have to make an effort for me.

You shrugged and headed to the kitchen with him. Truth was, you didn’t want Marshall to think of you as sloppy. Even though he did not really seem to care.

When you entered the kitchen, you found Jamal and Talia hugging and kissing like teenagers.

- You guys are too cute. I can’t handle that right now, you said.

- Yeah, please don’t rub your happiness in our single faces, Marshall pleaded.

- Sorry guys, I’m too in love with this gorgeous lady, Jamal said.

Both you and Marshall pretended to puke. The four of you laughed and started cooking together while listening to music. You tried teaching them how to prepare some traditional French chicken dish. It was a simple one but you hadn’t exactly been given the most attentive students. Marshall was desperately trying to cut the vegetables correctly (nearly destroying them in the process), while Talia and Jamal kept on making out like teenagers. You ended up preparing the dish by yourself. It wasn’t perfect but the group deemed it to be good enough.

- Don’t worry Y/N. If you keep cooking like that, we’ll find you a husband soon enough, Jamal complimented.

- JAMAL ! Talia shouted.

- Sorry. Wrong timing, he apologised. You know what I mean.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Jamal was really sweet and you knew he meant well.

- it’s good to hear you laugh, Talia said as she grabbed your hand.

- Thanks for being here, guys, you replied. My day sucked but you make it better.

- Anytime, Marshall said.

The four of you kept the conversation going but were soon disturbed by the door buzzing. Talia went to answer.

- Hey Talia. Is Y/N here ? I’d like to speak to her, you heard an all too familiar voice say.

- Simon ? You asked as your heart started racing. What are you doing here ?

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were

Chapter 2 

A/N: Background into the What we were story. Mentions of cheating, character death.

PS I didn’t mean to make you all hate Natasha 😭 I’ve just had this story for a long time in my mind and wanted to write it. Baby’s been through it and I promise in other chapters she’ll be better if that makes sense lol.

Six Months Earlier

It was a warm spring day. Flowers were blooming. In no time, grass would grow back to cover the grave.

As Clint’s coffin was lowered to the ground, it felt like time had stopped, or it had been altered.

You were all pretty much retired. The Avengers were a thing of the past.

So why was he on that mission with Kate Bishop?

Carol, still grieving over Maria, only sent flowers.

Natasha was away from everyone else. No one could approach her, not even you. She’d only talk to Anya or Laura.

It felt like she was punishing the team. 

You are all to blame.

Natasha almost threw Kate across the room the minute she tried to apologize.

That was the first wedge between her and Yelena.

She ignored everyone’s disapproving stares as well. And you knew what that distance meant.

Nothing and no one would get in her way to avenge Clint.

You were scared.

And rightfully so.

Natasha didn’t sleep, barely ate and simply stopped being present in your lives.

You heard her scoff and protest everytime you brought it up.

Laura is raising three kids on her own. And you think you have it hard?

One day, you begged her to come with you to therapy.

It could be good for us.

She agreed, if only to shut you up. Natasha never made it to that first session, nor did she apologize for her absence.

For the first time in your life, you could actually picture what it was like in the Red Room.

No feelings, no humanity.

Just a mission.

Before summer break, you asked Yelena to organize a family trip to celebrate Anya’s birthday.

Maybe Natasha could speak to Alexei or Melina. Maybe they’d understand.

Natasha refused.

“It’s for your daughter’s birthday,” you pleaded.

“We’ll do something else. Just the three of us. I promise”

Because she looked ashamed for the first time in months, you believed her.

It was a lie.

Yelena flew the next week, agreeing to look after Anya until school started again.

Your plan was simple; you’d help Natasha find all the information she needed. You’d finish the mission and then go back to normal.

The day after Yelena and Anya left, you went back to the Compound.

That’s where your wife was most nights, alone. Even Bucky had moved out years ago.

Still, you remembered every corner of this building.

It was your home, a long time ago.

Yours and Natasha’s.

Your first kiss, your first night together… It all happened here.

Curious about the things left in your old room, you walked over there, not even bothering to knock.

And there, you found Carol putting on a shirt and shorts, while Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

“Shit” her skin paled the second you locked eyes. “Y/N, please”

The room was spinning, you couldn’t breathe and you were certain your heart would explode any minute now.

Natasha ran behind you, pulling you by the wrist to make you turn.

She was screaming, crying, begging. All the things you had done for the last four months to keep your family in one piece.

Going to Wanda’s old room, you locked the door, barely listening to her pleads on the other side.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. Your energy was drained, as if you’d come back from a mission and were fatally wounded.

Natasha was still there when you opened the door, a couple of hours later. You couldn’t feel your face and your voice sounded foreign as you spoke.

“You have until tomorrow to move out of the house”

“Please, don’t”

You walked past her, without sparing a single glance her way.

Were you dreaming? Because you didn’t feel anything as you left the building, driving straight to Bucky’s house.

But when he opened the door and you could see how concerned he was, you finally broke down.

Your family was destroyed.

And you couldn’t save it.

/

Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin

[ykiwrite]

i'm not in love

[bad] description: Wednesday pays you a visit in school

"And this is how you do differential equations guys. Any questions? Do i need to explain it again?" asked the professor of your beloved subject math, sarcastically of course.

"No, no we get it" shouted the entire class collectively already ready to leave in hopes of finishing earlier than intended despite understanding close to nothing before being interrupted by a gem amongst stones.

"Yes, actually can you repeat that part where…"

At that very moment you and every single being in that room let out a disappointed and annoyed sigh. Muffling out every noise surrounding you along with your vision going dark as you rested your head between folded arms acting as a pillow. Might as well take a rest since your phone died meaning no music, no music meaning no other options left except sleep to pass the time.

The bell rang and you were pretty sure everyone right now wished to be people speeding down the hallway heading out. 

"Guys, silence please. Listen to me for a minute, this is very important which i forgot to mention. We'll finish quickly and you got your break."

His rambling, although you were detached from everything could be present up until it got quiet out of the blue. Raising your head and adjusting your vision wondering what's the reason behind the silence until you spotted the reason and made eye contact with it.

Quite impossible to miss the one and only, from head to toe wrapped in black Wednesday, your Wednesday Addams.

"I am sorry for interruption sir, i considered since the bell rang the class is over therefore i may come in."

"Well uh, yes you can but i didn't finish my lecture yet."

"Would you mind if i were to take a seat in the back of the class until it's finally over? I planned on waiting for someone from this class in front of the school but your lectures allegedly prolonged."

"Yes of course, go ahead." said the man whose voice you swore was trembling at one point as he turned around to bring a lecture to an end. "Where were we?", hand hovering above the board pointlessly moving in circles in order to remember. Great, now she even confused him which will make this even longer.

As Wednesday made her way to you, swiftly moving in between rows of desks and chairs people kept turning around once they were out of her vision. Both peripheral and the center one, it's better to play it safe.

"I see how you pay attention in class." was her first words of the day spoken to you when she sat next to your empty seat. Looking at your as well empty white notebook page you couldn't defend yourself.

"Wow, not even a hi and how are you for your beloved girlfriend?" you said faking a disappointed flat tone. "Besides, what are you doing here? I can already see 90% of people in this class won't sleep tonight because of you. I can't afford to pay for therapy bills." 

"That's entirely not my problem. The reason i visited is because Enid told me you didn't answer her text messages." 

(That definitely was not the reason but you let it slide)

"You mean your text messages? I know when you use her phone, Enid doesn't use proper grammar. It screams 'Wednesday'. Also my phone died so that's why."

"Hmmm" she muttered looking you dead in the eye as if interrogating with hope you will break and confess. "I'll take that as an excuse."

"Okay but what about the real reason you're here?" You said giving her a playful smile.

"What are you implying?"

"Just say you wanted to see me so, oh so desperately. It's normal, nothing to be ashamed of. Couples do that in case this is your first time hearing about it." You gave her a wink knowing it will make her roll eyes.

"Dude, is this your friend?" ruined the moment by a guy sitting in front of you that was quiet up until now, unfortunately.

"I mean-"

"I'm the girlfriend. Why?" 

Seeing both of your sour faces he was brave enough to push forward "Listen, i always had a thing for like goth girls so i was wondering if you're free but since you two-"

"Alright guys, class is finally over. I apologize for making you stay longer, i'll make it up to you by shortening next class. See you tomorrow and have a good day."

All of the class shuffling drowned out his attempt for a small talk as both Wednesday and you thanked whatever is lurking out there for cutting it short. Wednesday was visibly close to falling apart from that interaction and it's for the best you leave as soon as possible to prevent any unwanted injuries. Clearly on behalf of the guy.   Eventually getting through the crowd and out in open felt like a wish come true.

"Looook, it's snowing right? The first one this year" you commented eagerly while looking around the sky that's getting darker and darker by each second.

"It's just snow." looking over to your side she feels like you shapeshifted into a child in those few seconds she looked away. She wasn't familiar with this type of werewolves but there's a first time for everything.

"It's also Wednesday today! It must be a sign." you claimed.

"Sign for what?" asked Wednesday completely clueless.

"Oh you know, the "first snow" traditions." quoting with your hands.

"The first snow traditions? If it's something coming from the things you read on the internet or you and Enids highly intelligent conversations-"

"No it's not! It says you're supposed to kiss the loved one on the first snowfall of the year." Looking back to her, asking you "Really?" just above a whisper. She was still wary but how could she not trust you. It's you after all.

Taking a deep breath in she turned to you fixing your winter hat and dusting of snow that has fallen, hands naturally finding their own path down to your face as she allowed herself to relax around you. 

"This better be true" merely an inches of space between two of you. In fact, she wouldn't mind if it weren't the truth.

time skip

"You lied."

"About what are we talking about?"

"About the snow tradition. I can't believe i had to hear it from Enid and her computer that there is no concrete evidence behind the snowfall and a kiss." said Wednesday bringing up your last weeks made up fact.

"And what are you complaining about exactly?" provided no answer. You won against Wednesday, congratulations. 

notes: for the sake of the story pretend you don't attend Nevermore and Wednesday can roam around freely (also no offense for math lovers)

fun fact also: i accidentally deleted this after writing it for hours i almost deleted the app

[firehousefreak911]

A Cry for Help

You were met at the door by a worried Christopher. He pulled you to his dad’s door.

“What’s happening, buddy? Are you ok?” You ask, cupping his face to make eye contact with him.

“he won’t come out, I keep calling but he won’t answer” he said

“Ok, why don’t you go to your room and watch a movie and I’ll go get your dad?” You ask him.

“Ok” he said and went to his room.

You knocked on the door.

“Eddie, honey, its me, what’s going on?” You said threw the door, you got no answer.

“Baby, can you let me in?” You ask, more like pleading.

“Alright I’m coming in, back up” you warn.

You step back and kick the door. It takes you 2 tries and you are in the room. You take in the destruction.

“Eddie?” You call out his name, “Eddie?”

You hear a cry, a sound you hope never to hear again. He sounded so broken. You search the destroyed room for Eddie. You find him at the foot of his bed hugging a baseball bat. You run over to him.

“Eddie” you say, feeling so heartbroken.

“Hey, hey, baby, what happened? What’s going on?” You asked worried.

“They’re all dead, they’re all dead” he mutters through tears.

“Baby, whose dead?” You asked full of worry.

“Everybody that I saved”

“They’re all dead” he said, this time with a little more anger.

“They’re all dead, they’re all dead” he whispered in pain. He gave you a look of fear, and hopelessness.

“Oh, Eddie!” You slide in the floor next to him. You wrap your arm around his shoulder. He lays his head on your chest and starts to cry. After a little bit, he seems to have calmed down. You make your way to the living room.

You go to check on Christopher. You leave his room and say “ok sweetie, if you need us we are out here, ok? I love you”

“Is he ok?” Eddie ask, looking out the window.

“He’s still scared but he’s not alone in that” you say

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare him… or you” he says rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I just kind of” he lets out a staggered breath “kind of lost it”

“I know, but why?” You ask.

“I was supposed to reach out the some people I served with.” He says, “as part of my therapy”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you still talked to any of them” you reply. He walks over and sit down next to you.

“Truth is, I didn’t” he says leaning his head down into his hands and resting his elbows on his knees.

“I haven’t talked to any of them since I moved out here,” he says. “ I pulled 4 people out of that chopper alive”

“Cheif died in country a couples years later, the rest of us made it home safe” he says.

“So what happened to the rest?” You say scooting over to him. He proceeds to tell you about the rest of the team he worked with. He turns and looks at you for the first time since you got there.

“I pulled them out but I didn’t save them.” He confesses.

“So thats why you took a baseball bat to everything?” You ask nodding towards his room.

“I’m afraid.” He says grabbing your hand into his.

“Oh honey, what are afraid of?” You ask, placing your other hand over his.

“That I’m never going to feel normal again” he says, he lets go of your hand and wraps his arms around your waist he leans in and put his head down into your stomach and cries.

After about 20 minutes he falls asleep. You go to get up and move but he stops you.

“Please don’t go, stay please” he begs. He moves up onto the couch and lays down he leaves some room for you to curl up into his arms. You fall asleep holding each other.

[karmic-vibes]

If I Can Dream

16 - Too Much Rain

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr/lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: mentions of divorce

Year: 1992

Pattie and John finalized their divorce in January of 1992. Per their lawyer, they had to try couples therapy, amongst a few other things, prior to their official split. When nothing took, they officially called it quits.

While John never came around quite like Pattie did, he still tried addressing everyone by their proper names and pronouns. He never stopped by or gave anyone the time of day, but when he remembered, he would send birthday gifts or vague holiday cards to try and act like he cared (mainly to spite Pattie, showing her she wasn’t the only involved grandparent).

But, Pattie didn’t care. She had finally connected with her son and her granddaughter—she couldn’t care less what her ex-husband did.

Pattie often found herself stopping by once every weekend to bring the boys a meal and a little gift for Bobby. Since tensions had been resolved, Pattie hadn’t misgendered Eddie or even slipped up on his deadname. She addressed and introduced him as her son’s husband and Bobby’s father. She earned strange looks from people who think the way she used to, but it was second nature to her at this point.

Her son was married to a man, who also fathered her granddaughter. Totally normal, right?

Ever since she left John, she could give two shits about what others perceived as “normal”—she loved her new, free life and she’d be damned if anyone took that from her. For the first time in her adult life, she was happy—she didn’t care about the rest.

One weekend when Pattie dropped by, Eddie was getting his belongings together to head over to The Hideout for his weekly gig. Corroded Coffin hadn’t performed nearly as much since Bobby was born, but his band mates didn’t mind—they all understood where Eddie’s priorities were.

“Alright, I’m heading out!” Eddie called.

“Good luck tonight, Ed,” Pattie chirped.

“Thanks, mama.”

That was a newer development—mama. Eddie had never been close with his own mother, so once Pattie started coming around more often, she very quickly took on a motherly role for her son-in-law. He called her mom or mama, and she had an array of pet names for him that she used interchangeably.

In all honesty, it made Steve sick to his stomach hearing how gushy they were towards each other, but he figured it was better that it was happening to Eddie rather than him.

“Do you have everything?” Steve asked.

“I think so. What would I be missing?”

“I don’t know, you’re forgetful,” Steve shrugged.

“Well, if I forget something, then I’ll just call you and make you come down to The Hideout. Sound good?”

“No.”

“Great. Love you.”

“Hate you too, stupid.”

The two quickly kissed each other as Eddie ran out the door. Bobby was put to bed about an hour ago, so Eddie had covered all his goodnight bases for the evening.

“I should probably head out, too,” Pattie sighed as she slipped her coat on. “It was a pleasure, Stevie.”

“Always nice to see you, mom. See you next weekend?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Later that night, when Eddie got home from his gig, he burst into his bedroom and started bouncing on the bed, urging Steve awake. Steve grumbled to himself and hesitantly turned over to face Eddie.

“For the love of god, what, Edward?” Steve mumbled.

“Guess what!”

“No.”

“Steven Michael, guess!”

“No! Now shut up before you wake the beast down the hall.”

“Please, just one guess.”

“For the last time, no.”

“You’re no fun.”

Steve sighed and rolled back over, burying himself in their covers. Eddie straddled his husband and ripped the covers from his face. Steve hissed at the cool air and eventually gave up, caving to his spouse’s antics.

“How many guesses do I get?” Steve whined.

“Three.”

“I’m only guessing once.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I don’t know, Eddie, for god’s sake, I want to sleep!”

“Come on!” Eddie started bouncing up and down.

“You better behave, I swear on my life.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Regardless, I’m too tired to deal with you.”

“Come on! Guess!”

“I don’t know—you bought the bar?”

“No! We got a gig as openers at the Hoosier Dome next weekend!”

“What‽” Steve was suddenly jolted awake in excitement. “You’re bullshitting me.”

“I would never,” Eddie guffawed.

“You’re really playing at the biggest arena in the state?”

“Sure am,” he smiled proudly. “You and Bobbs get to come backstage and all that. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Won’t it be past her bed– what the fuck am I saying? Screw her bedtime—she gets to see her father perform at the dome! Ugh, I’m so proud of you, Eds! Who’re you opening for?”

“Oh, no one big—just Gun N’ Roses,” Eddie said nonchalantly.

“Eds, that’s huge!”

Steve cheered as he pulled his sweaty husband down for a kiss. Eddie held onto Steve’s face and deepened their kiss, reducing it to teeth and tongues. Eddie rutted his hips into Steve, but Steve held onto him, holding him in place.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry, but I’m so tired. Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

“But Stevie,” Eddie whined.

“What, Eds?”

“We haven’t had sex in ages… making me think you don’t find me attractive anymore.”

“Okay, first and foremost, that’s asinine. You’re literally a smoke show—always have been, always will be. Second, I know, it’s killing me too, but Bee has been running me into the ground. She’s just at that age where she has endless energy. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah… but even when she was a baby, and we were going days without sleeping, we still did stuff,” he pouted.

“Ed, ‘stuff’ was just you giving me head.”

“Yeah, and? You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Do you not like how I give head?”

“What? No, I… what?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Eddie, there’s nothing wrong with how you suck my dick, okay?”

“So, like… can I, then?”

“Eddie, for the love of all that is holy, it is three in the morning. Please, for my sanity, let me sleep.”

“It’ll take like five minutes.”

“Hey! I don’t finish that fast.”

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie smirked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t!”

“You have since we had the baby.”

“No… that can’t be true… can it?”

“It can be and it is. However, if you’re up for a challenge–”

“Okay, yeah, more so because I want to prove you wrong.”

Eddie chuckled to himself as he started shimmying Steve’s boxers down. The couple became intimate for the first time in ages and, much to Steve’s dismay, Eddie’s point had been proven right.

“Stevie, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s infuriating. I had no idea I lost so much stamina!”

“It’s okay! Just an excuse to practice a bit more—get your times up,” Eddie teased.

“Very funny, Ed,” Steve scoffed.

“Listen, my offer with pegging still stands if you’re ever feeling lazy and just wanna lay there. Wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“Okay, we were talking about how I can’t last longer than five minutes. How on earth did you go from there to pegging?”

“I dunno.” Eddie shrugged as he cuddled up to Steve.

“No, you do know.”

“Didn’t you want to go to sleep?”

“Well, now I’m awake, dickhead. How long have you been thinking about this?”

“I don’t know, a few years, maybe.”

“Years?”

“Uh, yeah? You know how frustrating it is to be a dude without a dick? I just wanna do what you get to do. It’s not that deep.”

“Okay, well, let’s put that on the back burner for now.”

“Can we try it after my show next week?”

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Oh, god, how I love you.” Eddie gently kissed Steve’s neck as he rubbed circles into his chest. “Get some sleep, big boy—it’s your morning with the beast tomorrow.”

As the couple fell into a deep slumber, it was soon interrupted by their daughter screaming at the top of her lungs from the end of the hall. The boys were stirred awake, trying to gain a sense of where they were and what was going on.

“Is that Bobby?” Steve grumbled.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “It’s your night.”

“I know,” Steve mumbled, sitting up in bed. He trekked down to Bobby’s bedroom where he flicked on the light and knelt next to his toddler’s bed. “What’s up, Bee?”

“There’s ghosties under the bed!” She cried.

“What do they look like?”

“They don’t have faces…”

“I, um… what are they doing?”

“They have scissors and, and, and they’re cutting up the carpet. Daddy, I’m scared!”

“Okay, uh… hold on…”

Steve’s eyes were bulged out of his head as he made his way back to his bedroom. Sweat was collecting at his brow as he stood in the doorway of his room.

“You good over there, big boy?” Eddie teased.

“Nope, this one is yours.”

Eddie rolled his eyes as he climbed out of bed to tend to his daughter. As the couple walked back down the hall, Eddie was desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

“Why was she screaming?” Eddie yawned.

“She saw ghosts under the bed. She said they were cutting up her carpet.”

“Dear lord.” Once Eddie crossed the threshold, he embraced his daughter in a warm hug, gently kissing the crown of her head. “Papa’s here, baby girl.”

“Papa, daddy! Make the ghosties go!” she sobbed.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie got down on his knees and peered under her bed. “Hey, guys? I know you’re having fun under there, but it’s late, and she’s little, so you’re scaring her. So maybe calm down on the carpet cutting for tonight.” Eddie popped his head back up and smiled at Bobby. “They said they’re sorry and they’re going to bed. You should get back to sleep too, princess.”

“But papa, I’m scared!”

“Do you want me and daddy to stay until you’re asleep? Just to make sure you’re safe?” She nodded profusely. “Okay. Do you want a lullaby or a bedtime story?”

“Both…” She said with a slight lisp, clutching her bumble gum pink comforter close to her chest.

“Okay. Stevie, do you wanna grab a book?”

“Sure. What do you want, pumpkin?”

“Goodnight Moon, please.”

“Alright. Do you want story or song first?”

“Story, please.

“Okay.”

Steve crawled into the bed, pulling Bobby into his lap. He straightened out her strawberry printed nightgown and made sure she was cozy in his embrace. Bobby pushed her messy curls out of her face so she could get a better look at the pages. Steve began reading in a soft, calming voice, slowly easing his daughter’s nerves. By the end of the book, she was half-asleep.

Steve shimmied her over to Eddie’s lap where he held her close against his chest, similar to when she was younger. He rubbed small circles into her back, making her melt further into his touch. Eddie started out by quietly humming before he finally started singing.

“Once there was a way,” he started, but was quickly stopped.

“I don’t want Golden Slumbers, papa,” Bobby mumbled.

“Uh, okay… but I always sing it to you…”

“I want the other one,” she whispered. Steve and Eddie looked to each other, puzzled—they had never sung anything else to her.

“What other one, honey?”

“The one pop-pop always sings,” she said into his chest.

What does Wayne sing? Steve mouthed.

I don’t know! Eddie mouthed back, panicked.

“Do you know how it goes?” Eddie asked.

“I dunno...”

Then it hit Steve—it was the same song that brought him and his husband together all those years ago. He had heard Wayne sing it from time-to-time when he insisted on putting Bobby down for a nap.

“If I Can Dream,” Steve smiled. Tears brimmed at Eddie’s eyes—their first date; their song.

“I can sing that, pumpkin,” Eddie whispered. “There must be lights burning brighter somewhere… got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue… if I can dream of a better land…”

Eddie sang the song in a slow, low voice until Bobby was fast asleep. He slipped out from under her, turned off her bedroom light, and the couple walked back to their bedroom for the night.

“How were you so calm?” Steve grit his teeth.

“Are you kidding‽ I fucking shit myself!”

The following days were filled with more or less the same. The boys would go through their morning routine, drop Bobby off with either Wayne or Pattie before heading off to work. Then, pick their little one up, have dinner as a family, put Bobby down for the night, then switch off who had to deal with her night terrors.

But then, finally, the fateful Saturday had come—Eddie was performing at the Hoosier Dome. He had to be at the arena for sound check around noon, which Steve and Bobby tagged along for. Once that was all set, it was Guns N’ Roses’ turn to take the stage and rehearse until the show that evening. Corroded Coffin was free to roam around Indianapolis until four or five—as long as they were back by six, management couldn’t care less what they were up to.

The Harrington’s roamed around the city, taking Bobby anywhere she wanted to go. Around three in the afternoon, Bobby started to get a bit tired, so she urged her dads to sit down and rest. Eddie found a quaint brick wall that he happily hopped onto, hauling Bobby up onto his lap shortly after.

The cool breeze brushed through each of their curls and Steve couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful family. All he could think was how he got so lucky. How he ended up with such a gorgeous, loving family.

As Steve was off in his own la la land, Eddie adjusted Bobby’s bright yellow puffer jacket and her pale pink skirt (which was layered on top of some thermal leggings to keep her from catching a cold). She insisted on dressing herself for this momentous occasion, but Eddie and Steve would be damned if she’d be left to freeze.

In protest of her warm outfit, Bobby demanded she’d bring along her heart-shaped sunglasses—while Steve thought it was ridiculous, Eddie fed into his daughter’s antics and brought along his black shades as well. Oh, how the two troublemakers were similar in endless ways.

By six, Eddie was back at the arena for a final run through with Corroded Coffin, while Steve took Bobby out for dinner. They weren’t going on until eight, so Steve figured they had time to kill. At seven forty-five on the dot, Steve brought Bobby back to the dressing rooms to wish her father good luck on his set.

Eddie held Bobby close in an embrace, hugging her so tight you’d think it would be the last time he’d ever see her. He pressed a kiss into her forehead before placing giant, noise-cancelling headphones over her ears to protect her from the booming chaos of the arena. The stage hands ushered Corroded Coffin to the stage-wings, with Steve and Bobby tailing closely behind.

At eight sharp, the band stormed the stage, screeching their instruments to get the crowd going. Shortly after, Eddie boomed into the microphone: “hello, Indianapolis!” The arena erupted with cheers—Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“How’re we feeling tonight?” Everyone cheered again. “Love it, love it! You guys should know, you’re our first big gig. Make some noise for yourselves, come on!”

And they did—Steve did his best to clap for his husband as he held Bobby up on his hip. Bobby held her hands firmly against her headphones, stunned and overwhelmed by all the commotion. Steve gently bounced her up and down as he pointed to his husband on stage. Bobby eventually put two and two together and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Papa’s on stage!” She cheered. “Daddy, look! Papa’s on stage!”

“I know, pumpkin, I see him,” he chuckled.

Corroded Coffin played their first few songs before Eddie decided to speak to the crowd again. It was when he stopped to take a sip of water, shortly chased with complimentary beer the arena provided.

“How’re we feeling, Indianapolis‽” Cheers erupted from the audience once more. “Good, good,” Eddie chuckled. “Before we sing our last few songs, I’d like to take a second to thank everyone who made tonight possible.” Eddie started rattling off names of managers, event coordinators, Guns N’ Roses themselves, and finally, his own family. “Last, but certainly not least, my own beautiful, supportive, amazing husband—and yes, you all did hear that correctly. He’s supported me since we met back in ‘85 and he hadn’t missed a gig until we had our gorgeous daughter, and even then, he told me to get back to performing as soon as I was able to. Everyone, please, give it up for my husband. None of this could’ve been possible without him.” The crowd applauded weakly. “Oh, come on, I know you can do better than that! Give it up for my husband, ladies and gents! Come on!” Cheers and applause flooded the arena. “Yeah, that’s more like it! Alright, I think you’ve earned this last song. Hit it!”

As the band closed out with their grand finale, Bobby started kicking at Steve’s stomach, wanting to be put down to dance. She ran over to the stairs leading up to the stage and eagerly jumped up and down to the beat.

When the song finished, and everyone went to go bow, Bobby slipped through the cracks of all the production coordinators (and Steve) and ran onto the stage to smother Eddie with hugs.

“Bobby, no!” Steve yelled.

But it was no use—she couldn’t hear him through the headphones. Eddie spotted the brightly colored girl out of the corner of his eye, dropped to his knees, gingerly setting down his guitar, and wrapped his daughter in a warm embrace. She tackled him to the ground, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh.

He squeezed her tight, running his hands through her tight ringlets, and placed a million kisses all over her face. Tears prickled are Eddie’s eyes as the entire audience faded into the background.

At the end of the day, she was what made it all worth it.

“Papa, you did so good!” She yelled, not knowing the volume of her own voice.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he beamed. He sat up, still hugging her, as the stage crew started setting up for the main act. “We should go before we get in trouble. C’mon.”

He stood up, hiking Bobby up onto his hip, as he handed his guitar to a random stage-hand. He held her close as he headed for the stairs, meeting Steve with a warm hug.

“You did so good, baby,” Steve said.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered.

“And you!” Steve started, pointing sternly at his toddler. “Never run away from me like that again, do you understand? Scared me half to death, Bobby.”

“Sorry, daddy…”

“Oh, give her a break. She was just excited,” Eddie said. “I appreciated the hugs. I wouldn’t mind if it became a post-show tradition,” he teased.

“Let’s not get carried away.” Steve rolled his eyes, hand rubbing up and down Eddie’s sweaty back.

“So, Harrington…” Eddie leaned in to whisper in his husband’s ear. “Our deal still on?” Steve’s eyes widened as he blushed up to his ears—Eddie smirked proudly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

[starlightandfairies]

Leg injury -Austin Butler~

Description: Reader injures leg filming a scene and Austin takes care of you.

Warnings: Broken leg, fluff, implied female

Key: POV = Point of view, Y/N = your name

Word Count: 989

*Please send through requests!*

2nd Person's POV

Austin had met you at a photo shoot, you weren't originally meant to be the model standing in with Austin but the other model had dropped out and chose that she didn't want to do the photoshoot. So going through the books, looking for anyone that they thought could be a good match against Austin, they found your headshot. At the time you were an actress trying to get any sense of work. So, you ended up doing the shoot with Austin, the two of you finding an interest in each other and that created the pathway for your relationship. 

Across the next three years later your friendship turned into a romance, and you started to gain more roles as a guest in tv shows, having a couple of episodes before being written off as there was no longer any use for your character and had also been placed in movies for ten minutes before your character was either or you were playing the younger version of the main character so once you had filmed your scenes you were sent off. 

So, over the last two months, you auditioned for a movie, got the lead role and began filming with the others that had also been cast in the movie. You didn't do some of your own stunts, some of which made you uncomfortable. This current stunt was not meant to be a difficult one, you had been strapped into a harness, a suspension-like bungee wire hooked onto the back. All you had to do was stand on the edge of a tall platform, jump to a lower one and then switch with the stunt double who would be thrown off and onto a crashmat. 

Normally, Austin would be there, watching you perform your scenes, however, he had to do some interviews that he had been requested to attend. After the whole process of being hooked up to the wire, getting into position and making sure everyone else was ready. Getting into character, you ran and jumped where the marking previously was. You had no clue how it happened or what happened to begin with. 

The wire snapped before you could reach the other platform, you fell and just missed the crash mat, a scream escaped your lips as pain raced up your left leg. 

You had been raced to the hospital, an obnoxious plaster cast placed on your leg, resting in bed while you waited for Austin to come home. Austin raced into the hospital room, looking panicked and worried. 

"Sweetheart, how are you doing?" He whispered, sitting at your side as he placed a hand on your face and rested a couple of kisses across your face. 

"I can't feel the pain, I'm on a lot of painkillers." You explained, smiling at him and holding his hand, Austin was glad to know that besides the broken leg, you were otherwise okay. Austin rested a kiss on your lips, holding your hand and looking over your form. 

"They won't be mad at me?" You asked, Austin shot you a look and brought your hand to his lips and rested a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. 

"No, sweetheart, they won't be mad, if they are I'll yell at them. Y/n you're the one that should be mad at them for not checking that wire." You nodded at his words, taking a breath and smiling as he handed you some water. 

"Thank you." He nodded and grabbed a marker out of his pocket. 

"Can I draw on it?" You nodded happily at his words, Austin chuckling as he moved the chair he had been sitting on closer to your leg and lightly began drawing over the plaster. You watched some sitcoms on the tv, ate the food that was brought in for you and talked with Austin as he drew cute little pictures on his new canvas. Austin placed the marker down, moved back to you and rested another kiss on your forehead. 

"The doctors were saying that I would need to be in a wheelchair for a while, then be placed on crutches and then I'd also need physical therapy in the end." You explained sighing at how drastic it all sounded. Austin caressed your cheek, resting loving kisses on your forehead and gave you a caring smile.

"I'll be there with you, all the way. I promise." He reassured, grabbing something from his bag and smiling at you before showing you a teddy bear. 

"You brought me Cookie!" Your teddy bear from your childhood was named Cookie, it normally sat on your bedside table and Austin didn't call you childish for keeping the childhood comfort. You cuddled the sentimental item close to your chest, smiling happily at the boy and rested a kiss on his lips. 

"I love you."

"I love you too." He whispered, sitting back in the chair and watching as you fiddled with the ears of the loved but well-maintained toy. 

"They're talking about returning to filming two weeks after I'm out of here, they just film me from the waist down or do scenes where my leg isn't showing. They don't want to use CGI unless they have to." 

"We'll see how that goes. We don't want you pushing it too much." He stated lightly, standing up and closing the blinds as the sun was pouring in violently. He switched the lights on, smiling as you looked more relaxed from being able to see properly. 

"Thanks for taking care of me." 

"Always. I'll look after you. You're my girlfriend and I'd be a pretty shit boyfriend if I didn't." Austin reassured, resting a kiss on your lips and tracing patterns on your arm. Austin discovered it to be a way to soothe or calm you whenever you needed it. 

[carefulfears]

Can you compare the Irresistible hug and the Milagro hug please !!!!!!!!! I love Milagro so much

okay our best and brightest @scullysflannel already talked about this once but let's chat on it (+ unruhe because i watched it last night) just for you babes xxx

/ irresistible

irresistible is my favorite of the three, and my favorite scully trauma™ episode, as it's the most dedicated to the emotional progression.

this episode encapsulates an understanding that the x-files never shied from, that the scariest monsters are human men, it's pointless to pretend otherwise.

fresh off her abduction, a violation and loss of autonomy that she still doesn't understand, scully's reaction to the crimes of donnie pfaster is intimate: his victims are the dead, a group she's always been more connected with than most.

her grief and discomfort at the desecration of women that she's bearing witness to is so overwhelming, and it's something that she's alone in, as the men around her continue with business as usual.

as the investigation continues, scully decides to go back to washington, telling mulder that she'll "better drive this investigation" if she focuses on the evidence.

SCULLY: I'm not having trouble, Mulder.

MULDER: I'd understand, Scully. This isn't exactly easy to stomach.

SCULLY: I'm fine with it. Really. I just think we're a long way from catching this guy. If we could get a print, we'd have something to go on. Right now we're at a standstill.

MULDER: I think it's a good idea. I just don't want you to think you have to hide anything from me, Scully. I've seen agents with twenty years in the field fall apart on cases like this.

Scully: I'm fine, Mulder. I can handle it.

i love this scene. his response here is so perfect. apart from checking in and asking if she's okay a couple of times, he hasn't commented on her state of mind in this situation, but he knows she's having a hard time. he supports her decision to take a step back, playing along that it's a "good idea" for her to direct her attention to the tangible evidence, but encourages her to communicate how she's feeling.

and he tells her that to struggle with a case like this is understandable, it doesn't matter how much experience you have or your position, it's normal.

(another understanding that this show always had: to react emotionally to the brutality of the world and the exploitation of the vulnerable is human, it's the people who look at destruction unflinching who are wrong.)

back in D.C., scully sees her therapist. she tries, you guys. scully's "i'm fine" complex has never meant that she ignores a problem or shuts down, she tries to cope in a way that she's comfortable with. she removes herself from the scene. she goes where she'll be more useful. she schedules therapy.

MULDER: Are you staying on there, Scully?

SCULLY: No. I'm coming back tonight.

MULDER: Look, Scully. I know this is a pretty horrific case -

SCULLY: I'm okay with it, Mulder. Besides, you can use my help.

MULDER: Always.

after her session, scully decides to go back. she's okay with it. she's going to keep trying.

this is one of my favorite moments. she spends this entire episode putting on a front, he spends it meeting her exactly where she is; saying, "i see you," but only to comfort, not expose.

her "you can use my help," is one of their jokes. a way to say, "i'm okay, i'm ready," that's lighthearted and doesn't show too much. when he responds, "always," his voice has such a different tone. it's so earnest, and sweet. his response takes her very seriously, her contribution and state of mind and comfort.

she'd told her therapist, "i trust [my partner] as much as anyone. i trust him with my life...but i don't want him to know how much this is bothering me." he already knows.

(her smile on the phone, they are best friends)

i'm gonna borrow from the post linked up top for this next bit:

"Scully’s abduction is the major turning point in terms of how much the job affects her, and Irresistible is basically a replay of her abduction that gives her more control: she gets the catharsis of a fight, and she knows who she’s fighting (men)."

after being taken by pfaster, when she's found, she pulls out one more "i'm fine," but her suppression and image can't withstand confrontation. mulder gently lifts her chin, and the moment she meets his eye, she breaks down crying into his chest. she tries so hard, she has "always been the strong one," she did not want him to know that this was bothering her. but you can't survive it without facing it.

i didn't notice until today that her gag is still around her neck, she's still so ensnared. police are still making arrangements around them. it all just fades away though.

(he's whispering "it's alright," just for her to hear. when she moves her arms to hold onto him, pull him closer, his face breaks. he closes his eyes to keep from crying. he's so careful with her after her abduction, he's never had anyone come back before. this is a moment they're in together, a sort of catharsis after she returned. it's so foreign and painful to be needed, for the first time in so long.)

/ unruhe

unruhe, written by my beloved vince gilligan, is the most introspective that the x-files ever gets on the dichotomous reactions to gendered violence.

"She can hear him, still stomping around inside the trailer, no doubt looking through the pictures carefully, hoping for yet more insight into the depths of the now-dead serial killer’s mind. In the back of her throat, burning acid threatens to force its way up. The luxury of curiosity, she thinks."

-selbst

throughout unruhe, mulder is hyper-focused on gaining an understanding, attempting to find the killer (and at first, the abducted women) by looking into what has been left behind, and dismissing any other courses of action.

ultimately, nothing he does assists in the case at all, and it's scully's connections and discernments that locate schnauz, mulder and herself never on the same page. unlike irresistible's quiet contemplation and gentle understanding, they're consistently frustrated with each other.

(note that in this episode, scully is bound and held captive by a man obsessed with the loss of his sister. a dynamic that she is very aware of, as she asks schnauz, "why [do i need to be saved]? do i remind you of your sister?")

from the moment that schnauz's first victim resurfaces and they do the PET scan (something that only scully is able to read and understand, not mulder. something again rooted in her personal background), there is a shift in scully.

these women are being lobotomized, and they're being lobotomized incorrectly. schnauz is weaponizing medicine that he doesn't have proper knowledge of, and reducing these women into nothing. when mary lefante is found, she is unable to speak, except to repeat over and over the motivation of her captor ("unruhe," the german word for "unrest.")

things escalate when the body of the second victim is found, and in my favorite scene of the episode, mulder and scully quietly observe the remains in horror, before scully just walks off and gets back in the car (in the driver's seat, a rare occurrence).

MULDER: Hey, Scully, that word "unruhe", "unrest", is bothering me. Maybe he thought he was curing them somehow, saving them from damnation, from those things in the pictures, you know, he called them the "howlers."

SCULLY: It's over, Mulder.

MULDER: Well, then that photo wouldn't be his fantasy. It would be his nightmare.

SCULLY: What the hell does it matter?

MULDER: Because I want to know.

SCULLY: I don't.

(She starts the engine. Mulder stares at her for a second, then gets in the car.)

when mulder approaches the car to ramble about "unruhe," scully never looks over at him or makes eye contact. she doesn't wait for him to get in the car before putting on her seatbelt and starting it. it is over.

i've written about this before (in the previously linked post), but mulder always wants to believe that people who do evil things have a good reason, that they didn't really mean to. that they were just trying to help, or were just following a biological imperative. scully knows that it doesn't matter.

it's the ending of 2shy, when mulder is right, incanto is only killing women because he needs their fatty tissue to survive. and he looks at scully and says, "when you look at me, you see a monster, but i was just feeding the hunger." and scully answers, "you're more than a monster. you didn't just feed on their bodies, you fed on their minds."

what the hell does it matter?

ultimately, scully is forced to "empathize" with schnauz, to survive. she has to utilize the insights that mulder gleamed about him to forge a connection with him, and stall. (she is always listening, and she knows mulder is right. sometimes it just doesn't make things any better.)

as the situation progresses, when she hears mulder outside she's able to wrestle her arm out of its constraint and rip the tape off of her mouth. by the time mulder breaks in and shoots schnauz, she's all but freed herself.

mulder takes her hand and helps her up, and she bypasses him, walking out of the trailer into the light, with one last look back at schnauz. she leaves mulder with the body, as he's looking at the photos. (the luxury of curiosity.)

the only time that we see scully show emotion or vulnerability in this episode, is in the final frame. sitting alone in her apartment, she looks at the altered photos of herself, and her lip quivers as we cut to the ending credits.

where irresistible saw her actively trying to gain control, unruhe is more genuine. she's not trying to conceal anything, she's just tired, and she's alone.

/ milagro

ah, milagro. quintessentially season 6 in a way that i can never establish as positive or negative.

milagro is all about desire: a desire for attention, for approval, for relevance. it's only fitting that it should be so punishing.

ultimately, milagro is about voyeurism, and we have this represented through our monster-of-the-week: scully's stalker phillip padgett.

when scully meets padgett (who had recently moved into the apartment next to mulder) in a church, it's to observe the painting displayed there, "my divine heart."

as he reveals that he knew she would be there to see the painting, as well as many personal details that he has "noticed" about her, it's a heavily emotional discomfort to be so seen.

so much of this episode builds in padgett's apartment, just one door over from mulder. when scully knocks, she tells padgett she was on her way next door and just thought she'd stop and return the milagro charm that he'd given her (a symbol of a burning heart) because she "can't return the gesture."

we talked about this when we talked about small potatoes, but this episode is...embarrassing for her! the kind of attention that she craves is embarrassing to her.

when she comes into padgett's apartment, padgett remarks that it's because she's "curious." she notices things too.

SCULLY: Well, you lead a curious life.

PHILLIP PADGETT: It's not so different from yours I imagine-- lonely.

SCULLY: Loneliness is a choice.

loneliness is a choice, babes! the way that small potatoes ended in classification of mulder as a "loser by choice" (for all of the things he could have, and all of the things he chooses not to pursue), and scully absolving him of that criticism, milagro puts the agency of this mutual repression back onto scully.

(choice and agency is a very important reiterated theme in scully's character. this whole thing only works if she chooses to be here.)

and when mulder comes in to arrest padgett based on evidence found in the murder case, scully is in his bedroom by choice. (very very embarrassing for her)

like these tags said, "psychologist mulder taking two years to connect the dots scully laid out for him in never again."

god, this episode makes me so uncomfortable. it's also the only one of these three that i've never rewatched, so that's why i'm a little more lax in discussing it.

MULDER: No one can predict human behavior. No one can tell you what another person's going to do.

SCULLY: Well, isn't that what you do, Mulder, as a behavioral profiler? You … you imagine the killer's mind so well that you know what they're going to do next.

MULDER: If he imagines it, it's a priori-- before the fact. I think that's pretty clear from what he wrote about you.

laughs nervously...isn't that what you do!! don't you know people's minds and desires!!

when mulder tells scully that padgett's book ends with her having sex with the narrator, and asks, "i'm assuming that's a priori too?" it's so reminiscent of office desks and tattoo ink.

when she replies, "i think you know me better than that," they're both thinking of philadelphia, of something etched in her back that they've never put to words. that too, ended in fire, with desire punished.

(i'm always slack jawed at him asking her flat-out if she fucked the stalker. quintessential season 6, baby! eat your heart out!)

PHILLIP PADGETT: I made a mistake myself.

MULDER: What's that, Mr. Padgett?

PHILLIP PADGETT: In my book, I'd written that Agent Scully falls in love but that's obviously impossible. (looking at MULDER) Agent Scully is already in love.

agent scully is already in love, agent scully already desires so viscerally, (agent scully is making things personal, as mulder had rebutted in defense of diana, not long enough ago)

i know a lot of people love this line, but it just makes me want to weep for her. scully is such a discreet person, she values her privacy so much, and has so little of it left. it's the emotional equivalent of her physical exploitation, to have her most personal and intimate feelings exposed like this. 

loneliness is a choice, and that’s her’s to make, the way mulder’s choice was affirmed in small potatoes.

(padgett as a character is a stand-in, he represents the voyeurism of an audience, of projecting a persona onto someone for personal gratification. he isn't ascribed any motive. but this to me, feels like a power trip, even if unintentional. he's perhaps just being honest, but he's recognizing that he can't have her body, so he exposes her soul. he also doesn't know scully as well as he thinks he does.)

both never again and milagro are about a caricaturized self, embracing or rebuking who you are in someone else's eyes. whether scully is perceiving herself as mulder's loyal first mate who "always does as told" or padgett's lonely object of lust, she responds by leaning into that exposure, going where she's wanted, and continuing her ascribed "cycle" of devotion and rebellion.

the reveal in the end, is that this week's monster is not truly padgett, but a character that he's created, who is committing the murders described in his book.

like padgett himself, the killer is a personification of longing; it's him who declares that the only way for the book to conclude, is for scully to die.

but just as jerse did in never again, padgett throws himself in the fire to narrowly absolve scully of the fated ending, and sacrifices his heart for hers.

when mulder realizes what's happening and races back up into his apartment, the sight is bone-chilling. she actually looks dead, unconscious and covered in blood, from a wound that's now healing.

when she wakes up and sees him over her, she reaches for him as abruptly as she opens her eyes. she claws into him, her fingers never stop grabbing at him, pulling him closer and closer and sobbing into his neck.

so little of it actually matters. she almost died without him there. this is after tithonus, and she's remembering those lessons again. (what about love? you don't want to be around when it's gone.)

and just as in irresistible, mulder breaks too, feeling the weight with her.

/

anon, to compare the three, i would say they each represent the theme of their particular place in the narrative and scully's characterization.

irresistible is the fragile dependence of a post-abduction season 2: perceiving comfort as a weakness, fear as a burden, but needing it anyway. recognizing who you trust, what that means, and that wounds can't heal in detachment. from each other and from the brutalization of the world itself.

unruhe is the building isolation of season 4: going where someone can’t follow, whether in societal experience or the looming instability that’s close ahead.

and milagro is the painfully confrontational tension of season 6. having your heart ripped out of your chest, bleeding, in attempts to be understood. just clutching what you need, weeping, in the end: there’s no use fighting it. (or hiding it. loneliness is a choice, but there’s freedom in being stripped of options)

it is a growth, in a diminishment of pretense and self-consciousness. it just comes at a cost.

i also want to bring it back to @scullysflannel’s post on this topic, because she summarized another aspect of it that i didn’t touch on:

“Scully tells the therapist in Irresistible that she doesn’t want Mulder to think he has to protect her, and I feel like the end of Milagro is about Scully accepting his type of protection, and by extension his type of love. Padgett makes her want Mulder to pursue her in a way he’s never done, but Padgett also ultimately shows her the danger of being sought after like that, and it makes Mulder’s straightforward protectiveness look pretty good. it doesn’t matter right then if Mulder is giving her everything she wants. she needs him.”

milagro is about desire, and ultimately it’s about a relinquishing of desire. scully is drawn to padgett because he offers her something that mulder doesn’t (won’t?) give her, and she’s ripped to pieces because of it.

it is punishing, to want something so badly. ultimately, when she almost loses it all, she’s clinging to what she has.

(but mulder is learning too, and they’ll get there. they’ll get to all of it.)

[sugolara]

𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

feat. katsuki bakugo x fem! reader

cw: angst, implied sex but no smut, suicide, molestation & rape mentioned, addiction

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ for y/n, it's tough being a cam girl and being married to the number one hero, it's tough living.

final part

showing your body and pleasing other males as a job is hard. you didn't necessarily want the job, but what can you do when your quirkless with no school diploma. jobs can't get you anywhere without a diploma. you're a dropout, like the rest of your family.

your family didn't do much to help in your life. your mother was an addict, your father was an alcoholic and an abuser, your brother was suffering with schizophrenia, and your sister suffers from manic bipolar.

you thought because you didn't suffer from any mental illness or weren't addicted to anything, you for sure thought you had a chance at living a normal life.

but you sucked at everything.

you weren't good at school; math, english, history, science, everything. your school gpa was at 1.50, that was below average. hell, you even took advantage at the history teacher who had lewd thoughts of you.

sleeping with him in order to pass, but not even that helped. because as it turns out, he's been doing this to almost every girl in your grade, finally getting caught when one of the girls fell in love with him.

it was scandalous. every girl had to take therapy classes because the school board thought they were molested or raped. they eventually had all the girls, including you, sit in a circle and share your experience, overcoming your trauma. none of those girls took it seriously.

so, the second you turned 18, you dropped out. tired at failing school. tired of people seeing you as the 'victim'. tired of everything. it was a miracle you survived for long.

it was also a miracle when you came across the number one pro hero. katsuki bakugo. being married to the number one pro hero, is hard enough at it is. he's always gone.

after a couple weeks into dating, you had told him what you did for a living. surprisingly enough, he stayed.

was it because he thought cam girls were good at sex? who knows. but he stayed. and after being together for two years, you start to wonder, does he really love you?

not once has he ever showed you to the public. it was as if he was afraid to ruin his reputation once people find out who you were. was he ashamed of you? you hoped not.

but your last straw was when you saw him in an interview, denying anything the reporter asked him, denying he was even in a relationship. when he came home that night he knew you were upset. so to make it up to you he took you on a date. in public. for the first time.

then out of the blue, loads of articles came out about the mysterious woman he was with—meaning you. it didn't take long for fans of katsuki to look you up. and once they found out who you were, the rumors started spreading.

anonymous messages started flooding in, telling you to kill yourself, threatening you, slut shaming you, saying you're only with katsuki because of the money. it's even gotten to the point where they leaked your address, making you and the pro hero move somewhere else. it happened at least a couple times.

the guilt had eaten you up. you blamed all this on yourself. you blamed yourself for having a fucked up life and making katsuki spend a load of money from all the houses he keeps buying.

it didn't make it any better when you went out to public alone, having people judge you with their eyes. giving you dirty looks, whispering to their friends or lovers.

you had finally given up when someone—a katsuki fan— threw a drink at you, telling you to end your life seeing as how you're nothing but a whore and that katsuki was with you for your body. they won. you lost.

and that same day, you came home to an empty house with katsuki working. you had set down your groceries on the kitchen counter, showered, and got dressed in your favorite clothes.

then headed to the bathroom grabbing a razor. seating yourself next to the tub, you gently held the razor on top of your wrist. and with a quick flick, a pool of blood started to settle next to your thighs.

unaware of the commotion coming from behind the door, darkness swept over you. the last thing hearing was katsuki's frightened voice, pleading for you to stay awake and a towel being placed on your bloody wrists.

[pan-gya]

When I was 11, I decided to that my death day would be the August 13th after turning 22. At the time, this idea was very normal to me, nothing about it seemed odd or wrong. In fact, I actually thought it was clever. I don't like new things, so changing my occupation from student to something else has never been an enjoyable prospect to me. So, with this plan, after graduating from being a student, I would end my life so that I would never have to experience the fear of the unknown. Never have to worry about what to do with my life. Never have to grow up.

Over the past decade, there have been times where I would console myself with thinking "just a little longer, you can hold out until 22" in order to get through hard times. But these past couple years have felt even more anxiety inducing because it's felt like I've been running out of time. I felt like I had to accomplish everything I wanted before this date, because in my mind, everything past it was a void.

Obviously, things did not go according to that 11 year old plan. I'm still here, I'm still a student, and I'm also not ready to die yet.

Thanks to medication and therapy, I've been slowly chipping away at the mental block my 11 year old self built up. It's still a void out there, which to someone who has to envision doing things to be able to actually do them, is really scary. People ask me what my plans are for the future and I have no answer. All I can do right now is take things one step at a time.

These words are more for myself than anything else but: please be kind and patient with me. Thank you.