#also i know that in a few hours im gonna have a headache and start feeling sick bc i have slept less than 6-7 hours and that happens when i

[seilon]

shouldn’t have checked my bank account as expected my mother has taken thousands more dollars from my savings and has almost run me dry more or less. Cool!

[babyyweebbitch]

Can i request Vi (Arcane) x overworked female reader?

I go to two schools (one is a music school)

Both schools give a huge amount of homework, the piano teacher is very demanding, I have a piano exam soon (which I don't know if I'll take because I can't remember so many given musical notes) and I also have my high school. I think I'll drop out of one of the schools for my own sanity.

I’m a crying, stressed out and simply tired mess and i feel like i’m losing control. The worst feeling ever🥲

Hug me please 😫

omg baby i’m so sorry! :( that’s a shit ton of stress and honestly i feel u with the stress! im currently very stressed out too and i hope things get better for u :) HERES A HUG

content warning : female reader , crying , stress

you were a collage student, currently in your second year of collage plus you also had a good paying job you worked at after school. the schedule was you go to school and mid day you left to go to work. that’s how it’s been since you got this job three years ago. recently there was an exam happening and you had to study during your breaks at work.

you recently got a new boss who has been an absolute asshole to you and a few other people and they’ve been working you like a dog. they changed your hours so you had to go home later leaving you barely any time to study and sleep. now your schedule was all fucked up… Vi noticed and has tried to help you but you always say you got it and that you didn’t need any help. she didn’t buy it honestly

it was getting closer and closer to exams and everything was getting to be too much. during one of your days off from work you studied all morning and part of the afternoon at your desk in yours and Vi’s shared room. she was sitting on the bed with her headphones in scrolling through social media. your phone vibrated and you glanced at it… it was your boss

‘i need you to come in for work today, in about 20 minutes please’ the text read. you don’t know why but reading that made you tear up, you started crying… no, sobbing. you placed your head on your desk and sobbed. vi moved her phone a bit to check on you and saw you sobbing at your desk. she immediately jumped up

“baby?! baby, what’s wrong?!” she asked, going over to you. she rubbed your back and you reached over to hug her, very tightly and just cried into her shoulder. she rubbed you back and she picked you up, carrying you to the bed “cupcake…”

“t…this is too much! vi…. i ca…i cant!” you said through cries. you gripped onto her shirt, she sushed you and held onto you

“i know…. i know — it’s alot…” she said in a soft voice, holding you until you were calmed down. after you calmed down you sat up and looked around “why don’t you take a b—“

“i gotta go to work! fuck!” you said, trying to stand up to get ready but she grabbed your arm. you looked at her and she tilted her head to the side. without saying a word you knew what she was trying to say “Vi i can’t”

“please…. you have too, it’s not good on your body”

“they will fire me…”

“fuck ‘em…. baby, if you take on anymore stress it will cause damage to your body. you’re already getting headaches and i can tell your hands are sore”

“how did you know about the headaches…”

“i saw the three bottles of Tylenol in the garbage when i went to take it out this morning”

you sighed and sat back down on the bed. you looked down

“and taking that much is gonna fuck up your body too”

“what do i tell them…”

“quit… find a new job — i’ll start charging more for my fights until you’re done for the summer”

“but the apartment…”

“we both have enough money to pay for it, plus the fights — i get alot for them. baby we will be fine for a few months” she said “i’ll even text ‘em for you!” she said, going to get your phone and unlocking it. she started typing away at your phone and you realised you’re trusting Vi to text your soon to be ex-boss

“please don’t be mean…”

she paused for a second…. then you heard her erasing the message

“Vi!”

“what?! you’re trusting me to do this for you!” she said in a joking tone. you laughed before snatching the phone from her and typing away. she placed her head on your shoulder to see what you were typing as you did. once you were done you placed your phone down and vi smiled. she stood up and started to get you clean clothes and went to the bathroom. you got up to follow her and see what she was doing — especially with your clothes

“whatcha doing?”

“starting a bath — for you! you deserve it” she said, starting to run a bath for you. she did everything the way you liked it and was surprised she got everything right, she’s only ever watched you do it so she decided to try. she helped you undress and get into the bath. she started helping you get clean and she hummed as she did.

the entire time you didn’t talk but the silence between you two was very calming to the both of you.

this isn’t the best but i hope u like it :)

[unfixablebabyyy]

pt 2 of the dennis You thing uh fair warning it's kinda all over the place but i had fun writing it (also gonna post it w the original but im a boomer and despite a decade on this site i still don't know how to work it properly lmao)

(nsfw, minors DNI)

There's something wrong with me. I haven't really been sleeping which is doing a number on the bags under my eyes. I keep getting these crazy headaches. I think I'm breaking out- I caught a blemish in the mirror last night and I'm certain it's gotten worse. Unfortunately, it's all your fault. The last woman I slept with was in and out of my mind faster than I was in and out of her, but you are driving me absolutely insane. Mac has started to notice, which is goddamn annoying. He keeps looking at me like I have some kind of disease, asking me stupid questions, constantly hovering. Maybe it's because I stopped eating. Or maybe it's because I stopped taking my meds. Either way, he knows something is up, but he can't find out, and neither can Charlie, and absolutely not Frank. You're too sweet to keep a secret from Dee and, no offense, but quite frankly, I don't think you could- you're not a very good liar. And if Dee knows we slept together, what if she told you about all the weird and horrible things I've done? She's been oddly quiet about the whole thing. I can't even think about it without feeling nauseous. What if she told you about the system? Or the binders? Or the tapes? Or all that stuff hidden in the side panel in the trunk of my car? I'm not stupid, I know that stuff is more than off-putting- it's incriminating. I need to calm down. I really need a Valium but I forgot to get my prescription filled- my mind has been occupied by one thing: you.

It's been about a week since we had sex. I made you dinner, and I did my homework- I knew exactly what to say, exactly when to laugh, exactly how and where to touch you. I like the music you listen to and the movies you watch, or at least that's what I made you think when I had it all queued up, with notes on your favorite parts. We're compatible, see? I drank too much, which was stupid of me, but you didn't seem to mind. It all happened so fast and intense and I was in control right up until I wasn't. As I watch the tape for the 500th time I swear I can pinpoint the exact moment you slipped into my brain and made a permanent home there. That night I did the unthinkable and actually allowed you to stay over and when I woke up the next morning with you lying beside me I was shocked to realize that I actually hated the thought of you leaving. And when you did finally leave, I felt so empty it made me sick.

Usually, once I've been with someone intimately, my desire for them fizzles into boredom within a few hours or so, but I feel like I want you more now than I ever did before. I need to feel your hands on my body, your breath against my neck, your lips on mine. I need to taste you again. I want to own you, put you on a leash or handcuff you to my bed and leave you there so that I know you're all mine.

I need to shower. I need to eat something. I need my meds. My hands are starting to tremor and when I stand up my head rushes and I almost blackout. Is this what it feels like? I'd almost forgotten. I need to focus. The last time I felt even remotely this way for someone, it ended in alimony and a murder accusation. I pick up my phone from my bedside table. 5:17 PM.

"Hey. Stop by the bar if you're out tonight, drinks are on me." Send. I groan. Get it together. I should really go and open the bar. Can't forget to stop by the pharmacy.

It takes me two hours to get ready because I can't decide what to wear or which cologne you might like more. The uncertainty is making me so anxious I forget to grab something to eat on the way out.

"Dennis! Can I come with you?"

I think Mac is yelling at me as I bound down the stairs, but I don't really care- I can't handle him right now. Outside the sun is getting low, painting the sidewalk with shadows. When I get to my car and slide into the driver's seat, I immediately feel a little better. The warmth of the day coupled with the smell of the interior lull the chaos into a low buzz. I inhale through my nose and close my eyes. Relax. I turn on the Range and the radio comes to life. I cringe, resist the urge to cover my ears with my hands as the chorus of "Hungry Like the Wolf" blasts at full volume. I snatch the dial and turn it down. Any other time I would've loved a little Duran Duran, but right now, it's jarring and abrasive. I pull out a Jimmy Buffet CD and stick it into the slot. As I back out of a parallel park, I begin to sing along, "I spent four lonely days in a brown LA haze, and I just want you back by my side." That's right, focus. Pharmacy. Bar. Pharmacy. Bar. Pharmacy. Bar.

I almost blow up at the pharmacist over the fact that it takes twice as long to get my prescription, except that she looks at me like she knows me, and not in a good way. She's tall, with dark hair and chocolate eyes, and I have to admit she does look a little familiar, but she's not you, so it doesn't matter. When she hands me my prescription and I still don't recognize her, she seems irritated.

Back in the Range, I pop open the cap and dump the pills in my hand. I pick out one and swallow it dry. The rest of the medication go back into the bottle, with the cap twisted tight, and I'm off to the bar, 20mph over the speed limit. When I finally turn onto Paddy's block, I clock Dee's car across the street from the entrance. I should have never given her that damn key. But then again, I've been so distracted lately, maybe I left it unlocked. Thank god the Valium is starting to kick in, otherwise I would be boiling over right now. Lucky her, I guess. I still slam the door when I get out, but before I enter the building, I roll the tension out of my shoulders and take a deep breath.

Inside, Dee is sitting at the bar, facing the door, with a heavy pour of wine in her hand and a smug grin plastered on her sharp face. Our entire lives, she's never bested me in anything other than being born 3 minutes before me, so her confidence right now is unnerving.

"Oh come on, really? Have you just been sitting here alone all day getting drunk?" a successful attempt at knocking her down a peg. Whatever you've told her (or she's told you) has inflated her ego dangerously.

"What?! Fuck you, I'm not drunk, I'm trapping you," she snaps back.

"Trapping me?" I can't help but laugh. It's so easy to get under her skin. I step behind the bar and take a clean glass to the tap, pouring myself a beer, preparing myself for what's to come.

"What do you want with my friend you little freak?" she blurts out, as clumsy with her words as she is with her lanky body.

"You have friends?" the drugs are doing their job. I feel like I'm beginning to even out, gain some control.

Dee, on the other hand, is seeing red, "You know who I'm talking about, don't play stupid with me. You couldn't just bang her and be done?" So then she knows I invited you.

"Honestly, Dee, I don't know who you're talking about," I take a sip of my beer and lean on the bar.

"Oh yeah? Then why don't I just text her and tell her not to come to Paddy's tonight?" Bitch. She smiles when she sees the mask come off and I glare at her.

"Whatever," my jaw clenches a little, but I try to maintain my posture.

"So? What are you planning?" she asks, and I roll my eyes.

"You always assume the worst," to be fair, she's also seen the worst.

"Yeah, because you haven't fucked the same girl twice since high school," that's probably true, "So what is it? You trying to prove some point to Mac? Did you and Frank make some gross bet about 'who could fuck Dee's friend first'? I mean what are you up to?" she squints at me, trying desperately to see inside my brain. I just shrug.

"Nothing," she should know I'm telling the truth- it's incredibly difficult to lie to your twin. But apparently I absorbed most of her brain in the womb.

"Dennis."

"Deandra," I mock, my patience wearing thin. Before she can open her big mouth, I say, "It's just drinks, ok? I had fun last time and I figured we could all hang out. That's all."

The longer the silence lingers, the more she begins to believe me until her eyes go wide, and she gasps, "Oh my God!" Suddenly, the door crashes open and in walk Frank, Mac, and Charlie. My stomach drops. I shoot her a pleading look, but she's ecstatic.

"Don't fuck this up for me," I whisper through clenched teeth, but it's too late. Dee turns to the gang.

"Dennis has a crush!" she shouts. The guys go silent. Mac's face twists as he cocks his head to the side.

"On a girl?" Frank doesn't look convinced.

"No he doesn't," Mac says incredulously. Good boy.

"Yeah, come on, Dee, what are you saying?" Charlie laughs.

"Shut up, Dee. If Dennis had a crush I would know about it, right Dennis?" Mac flashes his puppy eyes at me.

"Yeah, for sure," I reply, and Mac gives Dee an 'I told you so' look. The wind is absolutely sucked out of her sails.

"No, no, guys, do you remember my friend from the other day?" she desperately tries to hold their attention, but they've already stopped caring. We exchange glances, but that's the last of it.

"Dennis, pour me a glass of that slippery drink," Frank says as he climbs onto a barstool. My nerves are too fried for this shit.

"How am I supposed to know what that is?"

Frank waves his hand, "I don't know, Charlie always makes it for me."

"Oh good, I'm sure it's not something poison, then."

"No, no, Dennis, see, the Borax gives it this really nice sweet metallic taste-" Charlie begins to explain, but I raise my hand to cut him off.

"You know what, Charlie? I'm going to stop you right there because Borax is the stuff we use to clean the bar towels." I turn back to Frank, "I'm not making that- you're getting a beer."

"Oh, me too, please, Dennis!" Mac chimes in as he squeezes past Dee to sit on the stool beside her, nearly knocking her off her seat.

A few hours and a couple of drinks later, the door to Paddy's opens and in you walk with a burst of cool night air. There's the clatter of pool balls as Mac stands from his shot and I smile at you from the table, leaning on my pool stick, the medication and the alcohol bringing me right back down to where I need to be.

"Hey! Look who it is!" Charlie, who is drunk enough to be slurring his words, waves you over. "Wanna see something crazy I found in the alley today?" Before he can show you whatever it is, Dee pulls you aside and shoves some strong cocktail she made into your hand. I need to intercept.

"You want another drink?" I ask Mac to cover myself. I want to sprint over to you but I need to have self control.

"Nah," thankfully, he's busy lining up and practicing his next shot. As I make my way over I can feel my heart beating against my rib cage like a trapped moth.

"Hey," I hug you, kissing you on the cheek as I lean in. You're so warm and your hair smells like shampoo.

"Hi," your face feels hot against my cheek and when I pull away I can see that it's starting to turn pink. Dee looks like she's about to throw up.

"You wanna play?" I ask, motioning to the pool stick in my right hand, "Mac and I just finished a game."

"Yeah, sure," you look so cute and you don't even have to try- though it's obvious you have. It's reassuring. You want to impress me which means Dee couldn't have told you much.

"I'll be right over, I was just gonna grab another beer," I point to the abomination Dee gave you, "You want something else?"

You blush and look over your shoulder to make sure Dee isn't paying attention before leaning in, "A beer would be great," you whisper. God, you're so sweet, so careful about my sister's feelings. I nod and give you a little wink and when you brush past me to join Mac at the pool table I'm hit with a wave of your perfume and it's just as intoxicating as the first time.

"What did you tell her?" my face is inches from her ear, causing Dee to jump and drop her phone onto the bar.

She rolls her eyes and huffs, "Nothing, weirdo. Your stupid little secret is safe with me... for now."

Great. She wants to keep me nervous, like she's got me wrapped around her finger, but she never will. That information is all I need from her. I grab the beers and head back to the pool table, ignoring her glare. There you're bent over the felt, taking notes from Mac who thinks he's giving you good advice.

"Now when you go to hit the ball, if you put your hips into it, it's like an extra boost of power," he's saying as I step up behind you.

"I don't think that's right, Mac," you reply.

"Well then how do you do it?" he challenges. I cant stop staring at your ass.

You line up your shot and strike the cue ball. It hits a stripe that ricochets off the side of the table before missing the pocket by a fraction of an inch. "Fuck," you mutter.

"See? You needed that extra push!" Mac thrusts his hips as he tries to prove his point.

"Mac, you look and sound ridiculous," I finally weigh in, setting our beers on a nearby table. "Here," I prop my stick up against the table and pick up the cue ball, placing it in its original position. "Try again," I say, and you obey. You bend back over the table and aim your stick at a different stripe ball. Such a good girl. My fingers slowly press into your hips, tilting them forward as the heel of my hand presses gently into the small of your back. I nudge your feet apart so that you're standing square. I have to step back or you'll feel how hard I'm getting. You take another shot, and the stripe falls into the pocket with a satisfying crack.

"Whatever," Mac stomps over to the bar, leaving the two of us to start our game.

I give an approving nod that I know goes straight to your panties, "That was pretty good." You lean back against the table and cross your arms over your chest, which squishes your breasts together, and you wore something low cut like a little slut. I want to take you out back and pick up where we left off, "Why don't we make this a little more interesting?" You raise an eyebrow, "How about loser goes home with the winner?"

"Hm," you match my grin, your eyes dancing, "Fine. Deal." And I'm back on. You want me, and any doubt or fear I'd held onto despite the Valium and the alcohol vanishes instantly. I begin to gather the balls for the break.

"Just out of curiosity, what do you think my chances are here?"

Without looking up, I chuckle and reply, "Slim to none." I then lift up the rack and gesture, "After you."

Ten minutes later, you lose. Of course.

"Good game," I round the table to lean next to you. You're so close I can feel the heat of your body against me and if it weren't for my friends and the accusations this afternoon, I'd kiss you. "So, did you wanna leave now, or...?" You laugh.

"I thought you were buying drinks tonight?" you challenge. It's only 10:00- the night is still young and you want a hunt. I'm more than happy to give it to you.

"Fine," the words leave my mouth faster than I can catch them, "I suppose if you're willing to release your inhibitions, I'm not going to argue." That was a bizarre thing to say. I'm still off my game, unable to reel it in because every time I look at you I think about the way you made me feel that night. To my surprise, you just giggle.

"If you slip me something, I'll pretend I didn't see," you shouldn't joke about that- I just might.

"Hey you guys wanna do some shots?" Frank shouts across the bar.

"Looks like you're up, bartender," you bat your eyelashes at me before walking over to the bar to join the rest of the gang, hips swaying, making my mouth water.

As the evening wears on, one by one they drop like flies. Charlie is the first to go- passed out in the men's restroom, an open can of paint at his side. Next is Frank, of course, sprawled over Charlie's lap and snoring like a chainsaw. Dee and Mac last until around 2AM, but after Dee throws up into the ice machine, it takes every ounce of composer for me not to lose my mind on her. You might find that unattractive. Instead I suggest she goes home, heavily implying that it's not a suggestion at all. Mac is the last to go, but he doesn't leave without asking if I need help closing about a million times and throwing you an odd look. When the door shuts and the two of us are finally alone, you lean over the bar, and I can feel your eyes on me as I wipe down the counter with an old bar towel.

"So, Dee seems to think there's an expiration date on our... whatever you wanna call this." That dumb bitch. I bet she told you all about my penchant for fleeting affairs. I bet she told you I'm a womanizer or a misogynist or just a fucking asshole. I bet she told you you were too good for me, and maybe she's right, but fuck her.

"Dee doesn't think- if she did that would imply that she has a brain," that was too mean. I can tell because you don't respond right away and I'm afraid that maybe you think I'm annoyed at you and not my idiot sister.

"If there is, that's fine," you continue carefully, "I would just like to be in the know."

"My sister believes I'm incapable of having any kind of genuine feelings toward someone I'm sleeping with," I have a feeling you'd appreciate honesty over any lie I could conjure up, even if it's a good one. You're clever. Sometimes I feel like you can see right through me and it scares the shit out of me.

You pause. "Is she right?"

"No," I've never been so sincere with a woman and it's making my palms sweat. You hold back a grin and I feel exposed, my stomach clenches, and I have to take the wheel or I'm going to start getting all nervous. I bite down on the inside of my cheek. "Alright," I pick up my jacket from behind the bar and pull my keys out of the pocket, "You wanna get out of here?"

"Absolutely."

You wait on the sidewalk as I turn off the 'Open' sign and lock the doors. Tossing the jacket into the back seat of my Range Rover, I round to your side and open the passenger door for you. As you step up to slide into the car, you lean up and kiss my cheek and I feel my entire body go numb.

"What a gentleman," you grin and bite your lip and I want to spank you but I don't because you just called me a gentleman.

We share a cigarette on the way to the apartment despite my rule against it in the car- I can't help myself, I need to taste your mouth. You tell me all about the week you had and I react as if I don't know- as if I haven't been following you around this entire time. As I slowly pull up to the building, I look up at my window where I catch a glimpse of Mac as he flips on the kitchen light and walks past. Shit. As I park the car, I figure the best I can do is bring you upstairs and hope Mac sees it as an easy fallback- if I could get Dee's friend once, might as well get her again while she's around, right? That cover story would have to do.

You follow me into the building and up the stairs, pausing at the door as I sort through the keys. Just as I touch the key to the lock, the door jerks open.

"Oh thank God- I heard you coming down the hallway- hey can you help me-" Mac is breathless as he speaks, but when his eyes fall on you he abruptly stops. "Uh, hey." He smiles at you to mask his confusion.

"Long time, no see," you joke and he lets out a short laugh before glancing at me. I glare back at him, challenging him to choose his words carefully.

"Yeah... So what are you guys up to tonight?" Wrong. I clench my jaw. What do you think?

"We were just going to go watch a movie," I squint at Mac, hoping he'll get the hint to shut up and go away.

"Oh, cool, well... have fun," Mac looks for approval, but I deny him the satisfaction, brushing past him and pulling you along until we're both in my bedroom behind a locked door. The reality of having you alone in here is indescribable. It's all nerves and appetite in the dim blue light. It all feels so good in the dark.

I'm willing to behave, but as I move towards the television, your body collides into mine, your lips on my neck, teeth grazing my skin. I already like this game more than any other we've played.

"Are you gonna fuck me tonight, daddy?" your voice in my ear sends chills down my arms. Your generation is so needy, and I knew you were dangerous when you let me come close to choking you in the alley that night, but I've been looking through your laptop when you leave it at home, your phone when you were sleeping the night I claimed you. I've seen your search history, the things you watch at 3AM when you're lonely in bed and undoubtedly thinking of me. You're depraved.

"Oh yeah, kitten," my fingers weave through the hair at the base of your skull. I tug hard and you gasp, chin tilted upward, throat exposed. You shiver when I run my tongue from your collarbone to the curve of your jaw. I nip your earlobe before pushing you away roughly.

You stumble back and bite your lip, waiting for a command. It's been two weeks since we met, and one intimate encounter and you're already so eager to obey. God, you're perfect. "Take your clothes off," our eyes are locked, and I don't let you look away. It's almost sacrilegious that you're still fully clothed- here in my room, you belong naked. Always. You pull your shirt over your head and reach behind for your bra. "No," my voice stops you on a dime, "Slower," I demand as I step back and sit down on the edge of my bed.

From here, I watch the way your breath hitches when the cups of your bra brush your nipples as it slides down your arms and falls to the floor, the way you rub your thighs together before pushing your jeans to your ankles, the way you look at me- standing there, in just your underwear, exposed- like a fawn in the soft glow of the city night that filters through the window.

"Come here," you look like you want to jump into my lap, but you're being so disciplined with me. And why wouldn't you be? I'm your elder, I command respect, and it's my job to teach you manners. You slowly walk over and straddle my hips before planting yourself on my thighs, your hands pressed against my chest.

I wonder if you can feel my entire body buzzing beneath you. You've been waiting for this, too. I can tell. You're absolutely ravenous with it. Usually I would find this kind of behavior to be slightly endearing if not pathetic, but I want you so bad it's only driving me further down the rabbit hole. You're allowing me to control you and it's like it's the only thing I've ever truly wanted. I wonder how far you'll let me go. Not tonight. I want you to trust me- I /need/ you to trust me. So for now I'll play nice. If you want daddy to fuck you, then I will. I'll make you think I love you, princess.

I slip a hand between us and press my index and middle finger to your clothed cunt. It's already soaked through the fabric. I watch your pupils blow out as I push your panties aside and touch you, dipping both fingers into your soft, wet folds and sliding them up to meet your clit. You let out a soft mewl and I have to remind myself to breathe. Usually it's all about me, and why wouldn't it be? I'm the man after all. But I need you to know how good I can make you feel so that it hurts even more when I teach you what pain really is. I'm going to make you cum over and over again in every way I can possibly think of, and then, I'm going to deprive you. I can't wait to watch the light slip out of your eyes when you realize the fun is over, that you're mine, that your only purpose is to please me.

I can't help myself- without warning, I plunge my fingers into your tight little hole. You rise, yelp, jerk away at the sudden intrusion, but I'm much stronger than you, and an arm around your waist holds you in place.

"Shh," I swirl my fingers inside of you and you cringe, but this time, you stay seated like a good girl. You like it when I hurt you. I reward you with patience- pumping my fingers in and out of you slowly, gently spreading them as I go, stretching you out. You moan and slump into me, your face to my neck, planting lazy kisses as I work on your pussy. I feel like I'm going to black out. My clothes are suffocating. When I pull my hand away from your heat, you whine. I wrap both arms around you and flip you onto your back so that I'm on top of you, my knees between your legs, arms on either side of your rib cage. I sit up for a moment to remove my shirt, unbuckle my pants. You bite your lip and I reach down and run my thumb along your jaw. You lean in to my touch and when I get to your chin I gently pull your bottom lip from between your teeth. And then the pad of my thumb is pressing down on your tongue.

"You look so pretty," and you do- looking up at me through your eyelashes, sucking on my thumb, body nearly naked beneath me. Nearly. I pull my hand away from your face and nudge your hips. You lift them and I slide your panties down enough for you to relax back into the mattress. As I begin to work the thin fabric down your legs, something comes over me, and I back down off the bed and kneel on the floor. You sit up, watching me, eyes going wide when I grab your ankles and tug you closer. I haven't done this in a really long time. A really long time. I'm not nervous, but my heart is racing.

I pull you a little closer, and this time I'm more gentle. You inhale sharply when I drape your knees over my shoulders and the flutter of my breath hits your glistening cunt. When I look up at you, your eyes lock with mine, and I take the opportunity to slowly lower my head between your thighs. I watch your face as I press the flat of my tongue against your hole and drag it up. You taste so good, better than I'd imagined. Your fingers curl into my hair, and the dull burn in my scalp feels so good, I pull away a little just to feel your grip tighten as you whine and tug me back into you.

I hear you breathe my name as I relearn how to do this. I had been certain there wasn't a thing about sex that you could teach me, yet here we are. And I want to make you feel good. I want to be the best you've ever had. I need to be. So I take it slow, I pay attention to the way your body moves, the sounds you make, the pace of your breath, the rate of your pulse against my mouth.

I pull away for a moment for air, turn my face into your inner thigh and close my teeth around your soft flesh and you gasp and pull my hair so hard my head feels like it's on fire, so instead of letting go, I leave a dark purple hickey in the center of the indentation my teeth made on your skin. You moan and it rattles through me and I'm back to devouring you. I add a finger, then two, then three, and the sounds you're making are absolutely obscene and I think I'm getting you closer.

You squeeze down on my fingers and I swear to god I feel it on my dick. I groan into you and the vibration makes you flutter around me again and I touch myself with my free hand. I might actually cum from this. Your legs start to shake on my shoulders, and I focus on doing everything right as you whimper and moan and white knuckle my sheets.

"Dennis," your voice breaks through our syncopated panting and makes my dick twitch in my hand and if my eyes were open you would see them roll to the back of my head. The pressure is building- I feel your thighs tense against my ears, and I'm beginning to lose my pace on myself- it all feels so overwhelmingly good. I open my eyes to see your chest rising and falling quickly. Like a trapped rabbit. My teeth graze against your flesh and I nip at you lightly, shove my tongue inside of you, replace it with my fingers once again as I suck and bite at your clit. You let out one loud scream before remembering where you are, and sob as you teeter on the edge of climax.

"Daddy, c-can I-" you clench your jaw and knit your brow and it's so cute that you can't even use your words, and it's so cute that you call me daddy, and I'm about to cum, too, so all I can say is:

"Yeah, princess," and you're cumming around my fingers, against my open mouth as I spill out over the carpet and think vaguely about the stain. I thought you tasted good before, but now, I'm ravenous, and I love the way you tremble as I refuse to let up.

A few seconds later, you're cumming again, and if it wasn't for the alcohol and my medication, I would be ready for round two. Instead, I clean you up with my tongue and you scratch my head in sweet little circles as you come down. When your fingers find the space behind my ears my whole body tingles and it's like you've hit some sort of off switch. You giggle when I moan and close my eyes and rest my head against your thigh.

"I always catch you doing this," you take my earlobe between your thumb and forefinger and rub it a little, "What's up with that?" I hum at the familiar feeling coming from unfamiliar hands.

"I've been doing it since I was little," I mumble as you continue to make my brain short circuit, "I do it when I'm nervous," I'm not sure why I told you that part.

"You were doing it at the bar tonight," you comment, and despite the pleasure, my body tenses a little, "Do I make you nervous?"

When I open my eyes and look up at you, you're looking right through me, into my soul. I can't lie.

"Yes," and it makes me crazy. You smile.

"Good. That must mean you really like me."

I roll my eyes and sneak a quick nip to the inside of your thigh where my cheek was resting. You yelp and sit up to smack at me but I'm faster and I'm on top of you, pinning you by the wrists as you laugh. I hate how vulnerable you make me, all twisted up and trapped inside, and I feel like I need to contain you, but my hands on your wrists and my weight on top of you isn't enough. You have invaded every part of me, and it's too much.

"Well?" I can hear the smile in your voice even though my face is buried in your neck.

"Yeah, yeah," I feel like I'm in high school. You're younger than me and here I am blushing into the crook of your shoulder.

"Cool," your fingers slip through the hair at the base of my skull, "I like you, too." And even though I know that, the wave of relief that rolls over me makes me physically relax.

"Then you're staying," it's something between a question and a statement because the adrenaline is still making my head fuzzy. With my ear against your chest I can hear the methodical beat of your heart behind your sternum. I can't remember a time I was this intimate with someone. I want to get up, wash my face, grab you some of my clothes to wear, but my skin feels stuck to yours and your fingers in my hair is turning me off again. The air conditioner hums to life in my window and I feel the goosebumps pick up on your arms, your legs, the cool breeze ghosting over the thin sheen of sweat on your body. I sigh as I pick myself up off of you. I walk over to my dresser and tug open the top drawer, pulling out one of my Penn sweatshirts and toss it to you.

You bring the ball of fabric to your face, close your eyes and inhale. "You know this is mine, now," you say as you pull it over your head and hug yourself. I wish you weren't joking- I would love to see you in my sweatshirt every day for the rest of your life. I hope you wear it home tomorrow. I hope you don't go home at all. Next I throw you a pair of my boxers and when you stand and shimmy them up your legs, they hang so loosely off of your hips that I can almost see the v of your pelvis before you smooth the sweatshirt back down.

You hop back onto the bed and burrow under the covers, and I go to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. By the time I get back, you're sound asleep, your head on my pillow, filling my bed with the smell of your shampoo and body wash and lotion and perfume and you. I'm careful not to disturb you as I make my way into bed, as if you might leave if you wake up. When I wrap my arms around you and pull you into me, you murmur in your sleep and relax into my chest. I probably won't get much rest tonight, so I just enjoy the feeling of your warmth against me and the sound of your breathing as I think of how I'm going to explain this to my friends.

[without-it]

ok i lied i love to update u guys. heres updates and general tips and goals for the next fast ❤️

said id wait till thursday but at my core im a little silly guy who loves to lie and tell untruths!! so heres the fasting tea abt wrapping up that last 90 hour fast and starting this one

first off, the refeeding and weight gain update from the two days of eating "normally" : weight update this morning, from my last weigh in on monday, i gained about 1/3 of a pound (i lost just over 10 pounds so really good return) so really happy with that honestly. refeeding is such a huge and often overlooked aspect to fasting, and if its handled wrong it can often negate all ur hard work.

when i refeed i focus on PLAIN low calorie foods. if you end a fast with curry to be perfectly honest ur gonna shit urself to death and have a fucking miserable time lmao. my go to is a PLAIN UNSEASONED steamed veggie dish (usually steamed broc and corn, broc bc low calorie and corn bc i am a corn GIRLIE), and often with miso soup to go with it. unseasoned foods help with the upset tummy after ending a fast, and get ur body used to actually processing glucose again. and miso soup is just a nice low calorie simple food to add some fun into that meal. pls dear god do not eat sweet foods / high salt / high seasoned in general / or heavy meat or sauced dishes as a fast breaking meal. if youve fasted for more than a 4 days im not joking you can literally end up dying from that so just be responsible shawtie damn. (look up refeeding syndrome im not a doctor so im not gonna give u the lowdown)

things to focus on during the fast to help prevent rapid weight gain: drink ur god damn liquids. i dont care if ur getting water in thru diet soda or tea or fizzy water or even coffee. that is water, that is a pro and do not listen to ppl who say that water "doesnt count". when you restrict liquids during a fast you will obvi lose more weight in the short term, but during refeeding if u start drinking normally again (as i really hope u are lmao) you will gain this water weight rapidly. u turned ur body into a desert for a few days, and best believe the second u have more liquid ur body is gonna hang on to that for dear life. its better for u and less stressful in the long run to just keep up ur liquid intake during fasts trust me.

and then this is my go to routine for every fast:

every day i take these suppliments: high strength collagen, iron, zinc, a womens multivit, and the unsung hero of fasting? FIBER TABLETS. bro i can fast for over a week and still not be constipated bc im on my SIGMA FIBER GRINDSET

and then my daily intake: at least a liter of water every day with the "Endura brand low carb sugar free electrolyte drink" (in lemon lime flavor) (i put 2 scoops aka 2 serves per liter of water) the taste is super mid but honestly drinking that every day on my last fast made things such a breeze. literally like no headaches, no cramps, minimal dizziness, and my sleep was mostly uneffected.

then i also have either a can or two of coke zero. yes i know it has 1.1 calories and diet coke would be technically more appropriate for a fast, but i hate diet coke and u will not catch my ass drinking it

and then a cup or two of green tea with a 0 calorie sweetener. no recommendations on the sugar bc honestly i swap between brands depending on whats avail at my grocery store that week lmao.

all this liquid and high variety keeps me kinda full, and provides fun taste enrichment so i dont literally go monkey insane drinking plain water for a week. cool if u can do that but ur literally a psycho and not to be trusted frankly

so current goal is at least lunch time saturday. i have plans to do lunch w my friend but honestly if im not rly hungry then and i wanna keep the fast going im just gonna cancel that lunch or even push it to dinner to just get a few more hours in!

as usual, expect weight updates every morning. the starting situation is: 87kg exactly ( 191.8 pounds) , 20% of my weight loss goal achieved. see yall tmro for the update!

[inconsideratekidney]

9/5/24

hi there,

today felt long, even though my day technically ended at 1:45, my brain and body haven't felt well-rested since 2008. i will always be forever stuck in my younger self. i had so many american girl dolls, barbies, polly pockets, calico critters, one random strawberry shortcake phase, etc. and i still will forever miss them. my playing days didn't end in 2008, just the last time i probably felt well-rested.

i also wish that i had more mobility in my fingers, hands, wrists, and arms and neck/upper chest because i want to wear so much jewelry but it tends to cut off my circulation when i get hot and sweaty and it all starts to irritate me about halfway through my day. i enjoy wearing memorable pieces of jewelry and whatnot that people give me, i like to wear them every day to think of people, even if they don't match. every few days or so i need to rip them off and get acclimated for a day or so to not having anything obstructing my circulation. then i go back. it's a fun cycle, not a vicious one!

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

i feel a headache coming on...must be all the sims and constant screen exposure for like 2 hours...

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

speaking of which, my homework has been started since i sent that email out! i just also have my mind on other things....

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

i'm excited about this direction for my blog! i hope it works out well, even though i know the notifications will be different. if you don't make an account then you can't turn on notifications which is annoying, unless someone knows a better way? i don't want to force people to make an account....

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

i have found myself making friends with people that i am slightly uncomfortable with? i don't know how to word it, but i feel very overstimulated often with certain people and they seem to enjoy my company, but i am silently screaming. it's hard when someone is loud and does not whisper well when everyone else is quiet or the professor is lecturing and i am just trying not to get noticed......i notice with this kind of acquaintance i typically just go silent while theyre talking and develop lazerbeam eyes that look right through to the other side of them. i find it hard to communicate when im uncomfortable with something or something someone is doing, especially when im not that close with that someone.

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

this is me from the future aka the next morning cuz i forgot to finishing writing. i dont want to do 2 day posts, bc that ruins the purpose of what im trying to achieve--once a day every day or every couple of days or once a week. not multiplr days on end. i already write a lot so i cant have multiple days in one post. i can feel myself wanting to start writing more but its only been like 12 hours since i last wrote so im gonna take a cooldown before doing that. (i will say tho sleeping on my back last night actually was so much better than my stomach and i went out like a light and only shifted in my sleep like 2 times)

anyshway, have a blessed day,

kD :p

[thegoober010]

HELLO HELLO! Tis I!

A non-undertale related one today, which is,, insane for me.

Can you write father figure Shane stardew valley and his child who started drinking? And Shane is like “I know how that feels but you dont have to do this” and and and JADJFJFFJFJ

my daddy issues show whenever i request father figure writing because its always angsty

It can be a one shot or headcanons :3

-🐾

OMG GRAAAAA HEY PAW PRINT ANON I MISSED YOU SNOOKIE 😻😻!!!!

ALSO WOWZERS NON-UNDERTALE RELATED!!! SHOCKING!!(IM FOOLING AROUND TEEHEE) AND OMG OFC I CAN!!!

I WOULD NEVER EXPECT SHANE TO BE FATHER FIGURE MATERIAL BUT REAL !!!

IMA DO A ONE-SHOT AS A SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE GRAAAAAAAA!!

GENDER NEUTRAL READER AS USUAL <3!!

characters -> Father figure Shane (that's all-!!)

TW/CW -> substance abuse, mentions of depression, using alcohol as self-harm, and swearing- obviously-!

word count -> 2k/2192

On a serious note, if you or anyone you know is suffering from depression and is using unhealthy coping mechanisms such as drinking to try and drown their sorrows, please know that there is resources, there is help, and you/they are not alone. Please talk to someone or listen to them, because it's obvious you/they need it. Speak up before it is too late and leads to more risky behaviors. You're not alone and neither should they be. Things will get better, without happiness there won't be struggle, but without any struggle there will be no happiness. Things may be bad now, but it will turn out okay. You never know when your day of happiness shall come, so please don't give up and please do not use such unhealthy coping mechanisms, all they do is cause even more harm dear. Please talk to someone 💗.

now that, that's outta the way uhhhh onto the one-shot -!

"I know how that feels but.. you don't have to do this."

Just one more bottle. Just one more! What's the harm in one more drink? After all it's not like you're addicted or anything! No, no of course not! It's just for some temporary relief, it's not like you drink almost every damn hour of your life and waste your days lying in bed. Fuck. You allowed a soft sigh to escape your lips as you laid in bed on your side, hugging your knees and covering yourself with the blanket. You were in your room, per usual, you just finished your last bottle of alcohol yesterday and were hungover. You had a huge headache, you felt like throwing up and your stomach hurt, bad. You kept on over drinking even though you knew how it would affect you later, you kept drinking because it was your only escape from this shitty place. This town fucking sucked if we're gonna be honest, you felt like no one liked you, no matter what you did nothing was ever good enough, you wanted to leave, go explore but you couldn't you were stuck here due to the fact you don't have enough money to actually live yourself. Not only that but the people sucked. The mayor? He's absolute shit, making the farmer do all the work at this point. The people? Well some were nice but other times they're assholes if they don't know you well enough which sucked, a few were nice but... the town just sucked in general. All you could really do was just wallow in pity and drink your problems away, all your insecurities, it all felt like they were gone once you grabbed that bottle. You know it's wrong though, it hurt and tasted awful at first but you're slowly getting used to the feelings, sometimes you wonder if you should upgrade from alcohol to something more strong... maybe it'll help more? Right..?... fuck.

You groaned as you rubbed the side of your head. It hurt like hell. You had dark circles under your eyes, your hair was all messed up and frizzy, your lips were chapped and dry. It was quite obvious you weren't properly taking care of yourself, it could be spotted from a mile away. All of a sudden as you twist and turned in your bed you spotted your father, Shane, entering the room. You groaned and got up, quickly rubbing your eyes and fixing up your hair. "Hey, kiddo, you alright?" Shane asked. You nodded, giving him a quick hum as you put your shoes on, you didn't want your dad seeing you like this, you'd rather make a quick get away than let him see you not taking care of yourself because you know damn well he'd give you some long ass talk that you just don't have the patience to deal with today. "Mhm, I'll see you later dad." You mutter as you lazily tied your shoelaces, you quickly left your dad there with a concerned look on his face.

You made your way over to the Stardrop Saloon, as you made your way there you checked your pockets, quickly looking at the money you had to make sure you had enough to buy a beer or something of that sort. "Oh fuck yeah." You mutter as you saw you had just enough for one! You hummed as you made your way to the Saloon. You quickly threw the door open, making Gus raise a brow as he looked at you, he let out a small groan as he saw your face, even he was a bit concerned since you had been coming there more often. "The usual?" He asked earning a quick nod out of you. You sat down on one of the seats, quickly handing him the gold. He counted it before he raised a brow once he finished. "Uh, it's not enough, you're missing 2 gold." Gus said before he handed back the money, going back to cleaning a cup. You give him a confused stare. "The hell you mean I'm missing 2 gold? It's the same amount of money I gave you a week ago for a beer!" You exclaimed, you quickly lowered your voice as you saw the strange stares some of the people gave you. You cleared your throat slightly before shutting up. "Mhm, well the prices were raised recently." explained Gus, causing you to roll your eyes. "It's just 2 gold, come on! I'll pay the 2 gold tomorrow!" You negotiated, all Gus did was shake his head. "Sorry, I can't trust you to pay it tomorrow." Gus replied. You scoffed as you got off the chair. "Ugh.. fine, I'll see ya tomorrow I guess. Bye Gus." You grumbled as you made your way out the door. You let out a yawn, making your way back home.

You uttered curses under your breath as you made your way home. You leaned your head back, looking up at the stars as you followed the path back home. The sky was beautiful, sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be up there. Perhaps you would make a beautiful sky? Fuck, why are you thinking like this? Damnit. 'Just.. just focus on making it home' You thought to yourself. You turned your head to the side, taking notice of how the grass was blown ever so slightly by the gentle wind. Crickets chirped and the moon's light shun onto the grass and onto a lonely, empty bench. You stared silently at it for a while. 'A break from walking isn't so bad.' You though before making you way and plopping down onto it. You kept your hands in your hoodie pockets, your head leaning to the side as you looked up at the night sky. Your headache slowly started to come back as you finally tried to relax. Your eye-lids started feeling heavy, a soft sigh escaped as you your head leaned left, you felt so damn tired, you could just sleep right then and there. As you started to shut your eyes you felt a tap on your shoulder, causing you to almost immediately jump. "AH WHAT THE FUCK-" You yelled when you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing Shane to stare a bit shocked from your reaction. "Wow, calm down there kiddo." Shane said, taking his hand off. You let out a relieved sigh realizing it was just your dad. You clutched your chest as you calmed your breathing. "Ah- shit.. sorry dad you scared me there." You uttered.

Shane nodded in acknowledgment. "Is this spot taken?" he asked, obviously knowing the answer but wanting to check if his child was comfortable enough to let him sit near them. You shook your head. "No- uh no, sit if you want." You reply while rubbing the side of your neck awkwardly from the earlier exchange. You did not mean to scream that loud, damn. Shane nodded, quickly taking a seat next to his kid. You kept your obvious distance from him though, and it was quite obvious form the space between you two. "Uh, hey kid. Look, we gotta talk." Shane spoke softly, yet there was a hint of concern in his tone, he looked over at you. You raised a brow, you looked up at him for a bit before quickly looking away, leaning your head the opposite of where he was sitting. "Hm? 'Bout what?" You asked, crossing your arms and biting the side of your nails. "About your... problem with alcohol." Shane said bluntly, damn, just straight to the point. You almost choke on your spit, you continued to bite the side of your nails, your eyes grew wide before you shook your head, calming yourself down ever so slightly. "The hell are you talking about dad?" You ask, playing dumb. He furrowed his brows before placing a rough hand on your shoulder. "Don't act dumb, I know what you've been doing." Shane said, he was trying to be as calm as possible, his tone showed how worried he was though, you were going down the same path as he did before he had you, and he can't bear to see that. You tense up as his hand was roughly placed on your shoulder. You immediately pull his hand away. "THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? I told you I'm not doing anything!?" You yell. You furrow your brows, your eyes squinting slightly as you did so. He seemed a bit surprised by your sudden snap. "Hey, calm down." Shane said calmly, he put his hands onto his lap, understanding you didn't want to be touched right now.

"Look, I know you want to act like nothing's happening, but I can tell when somethings wrong. You're my child, I don't want you hiding things from me, especially if it's making you make the same mistakes I did before." Shane explained, he stared at you while you looked away from him. "What are you talking about?" You ask, "I found the bottle under your bed kid. I know what you've been doing." Shane replied calmly. You immediately turned your head to look over at him, eyes wide. Fuck, you forgot to throw that bottle away. "Fffuck." You muttered, you rubbed the bridge of your nose in frustration, slouching as you rested your elbows on your knees. Your breath got shaky as you started to feel tears swell up in the inner corners of your eyes. Shane almost immediately noticed, he quickly placed a hand on your back, rubbing your back in circles. "Hey, hey, it's okay I'm not mad nor am I disappointed, okay? Hey it's okay." Shane reassured, yet you couldn't help but feel like such a disappointment. How could you be so damn stupid and let him find out? How could you let your dad down like this? You couldn't help but cry.

Shane took immediate notice, although he wasn't the best when it comes to comforting, especially comforting people, he tried. He pulled you into a quick embrace. Rubbing circles on your back as you cried. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad, I'll never be angry at you for something like this kid, so don't worry about whether I am or not, because I genuinely inly am not. I'm just worried on why you would look for comfort in drinking instead of telling me how you feel. Do you not trust me maybe?" Shane asked as he continued to keep you in a warm embrace. You shook your head. "No no no no it's not that... it's not that at all, I hic- just I.. I can't bring myself to.. to tell you any of the things I feel I-I feel bad doing that I don't want to burden you pa." You explain between sobs, trying your best not to make Shane feel like a bad father, because he wasn't he tried his best to stray you from the same path he had gone through yet here you were, going down the same road. You couldn't help but feel like you disappointed him because of that. Shane nodded in acknowledgment, he grabbed your cheeks and wiped away your tears gently with one hand while the other kept rubbing circles on your back in a calming motion. "Alright alright, I understand. But please, please for the love of god tell me whatever is happening, I don't want you to end up like how I did. You don't deserve that kiddo, you deserve to be happy. I learned from my mistakes which is why I never wanted you to go down the same path of addiction I went through. Please, whatever's happening tell me and I'll support you through it, not just because I don't want you to end up like how I did, but because I'm your dad. That's what I'm ment to do, help through difficult times. I know you can't help it but don't feel bad for reaching out to your own dad." He reminded you. "I love you kiddo, I'm your dad and I'm going to help you get through this alright, we'll get proper help because I don't want to lose you. I've gone through the same thing and this.. I know how it feels but... you don't have to do this kid."

You nodded in acknowledgment, it felt good to have him reassure you like this. It helped you realize how much you really mean to him. "Thanks dad..." You mumbled, your voice cracked ever so slightly, your voice also showed how tired you really were. You clung onto him. He sighed before picking you up like a child, although you were an adult he could kinda carry you easily. You let out a muffled sigh as you clung onto him, your eye-lids feeling heavier. You closed them and felt close to drifting off to sleep, but your headache would not allow you to. "My head hurts." You mutter. Shane nods in acknowledgment as he carries you back home. "Don't worry kiddo I'll give you medicine when we get home." Shane replied. You nodded slightly before giving him a hum of acknowledgment.

"I love you kid, and I'm going to help you no matter what"

[wineaunt420]

im bored so im gonna write som shit about my favourite Dino charge villains because I can and I'll maybe draw them later if i feel like it.

------------

Wrench

Wrench is particularly clueless to anything that isn't mechanical engineering which means in his free time he likes to partake in non mechanical engineering hobbies without fully knowing the risks that come along with said hobby, like making back yard moonshine for instance. Wrench had been Extracting potato vodka for about 8 months and was quite chuffed to get his first batch of moonshine (Drinking it was probably the most and only fun he gets on that drab ship) so to say he fell in love with this hobby was abit of an understatement, but he still had no clue he was withholding a bomb strong enough to blow up half the ship boiling away snuggly in a side room somewhere. In fact it wasn't until Fury stumbled upon Wrench securing his second batch of Bomb juice and almost had a heart attack did Wrench learn that cooking potatoes and turning it into a delicious beverage in an inclosed and inhabited area was such a terrible idea. And you'd think he'd learn his lesson?

...

he did not.

He also loves sleep, Like its a chore to get him up in the morning. He could sleep for a millennia which makes sense because of how much work he does,the ship only runs because of him although to cheap out on work he has fixed a few vital panels with extreme stick glue. He's tired, cut him some slack

Also you bet he watches Romance movies, He's probably watched and cried over the Titanic 5 times now.

Singe

Where too start with Singe, well those markings on his face are actually traditional tattoos from his homeplanet he got when he turned 18. He was actually the epitome of a trouble making Teen British style when he was younger as He would always sneak out to drink Crap tonnes of Vodka on the dark streets until he passes out and somehow wakes up back at home bruised but not dead, He never actually grew out of his trouble making twat fase which is actually part of the reason why he gets headaches (he's hungover, probably from Wrenches home made moonshine) Most people also Don't know that he actually has an adopted sister called Fae and that they both lived and grew up with his Grandma. (Fae is the reason he wakes up at home in the morning and is just as bad as Singe, but more on her another time) Singe loves making fun of Fury, its actually his favourite past time until Fury decides hes had enough and slams Singes tail in a door. But he like Wrench doesn't learn his lesson (fury can't catch a break). The only person Singe doesn't bully is Wrench because he needs that special juice. (I actually love Singe he is such a bastard)

I also see Singe not only being an amazing cook but having such an incredible sweet tooth. Upon coming to earth for the first time he gained a slight addiction to pancakes and hot fudge brownies. Aside from being a totally unserious partial drunk most of the time, he does Enjoy cooking for everyone sometimes. its the only nice thing he does for them

Snide

Snide loves being a cunt in every aspect of life, he eat sleeps and breathes being an asshole. He can dish it out but can't take it back for the life of him, Like when Fury made a joke about his mum after he was absolutely slammed by Snide for a half hour. Snide lost his shit. Bastard was so upset he put himself back in solitary confinement for an hour just mumbling angrily to himself.

His favourite act of bastardry was when Archanon pulled up and started playing favourites with him, He abused that favouritism so much it was almost considered too much. He did this because playing "buddy buddy" with Archanon would get him what he wanted and He loved watching Singes face Cringe everytime the two got close.

Because Heckle obviously has a sweet tooth, it would only make sense for Snide to love Savoury foods, his favourite Savory foods being Sliced raw fish with soy sauce wrapped in Nori, you cant really call it Sashimi because Sashimi is beautifully cut and actually looks delicious, whatever Snide makes can only be considered as post death animal slaughter because its an actual fucking mess when he's finnished. Fish scales and tiny bones all over the kitchen table, it drives Singe fucking crazy and Poisandra can only describe Snide as "animalistic" and "carnivorous" whenever he enters the kitchen. Fyi Don't attempt to enter the kitchen while Snide's in there, just don't.

Archanon

Archanon had a wife at some point in life and they did actually love each other very much, until Archanon started wanting more and more, driven mad by the desire to acquire the dark energem that his wife began to see how much of a world destroying Tyrant he was and Divorced him. Its Rumoured that his wife was a goddess, The Goddess made of Seven condensed stars to be exact. But Archanon hates Talking about his Ex wife so only Singe and his sister really know, but its also rumoured that the two of them as a final order from Archanons Ex wife, to never speak of her name or her purpose and being to anyone. So yeah maybe she is maybe she isn't who knows.

Archanon is incredibly powerful with a large ass army, Half of his original army if the Divorce had anything to say about it, but still a powerful one that he fills with prisoners, hence why he paid Sledge to collect bounty prisoners, it was for the army.

He doesn't sleep, like straight up never. He runs off coffee its like the only thing keeping him alive anymore, if he were to stop drinking it he'd probably drop deader than Atmosphere of the room he's in when anyone mentions the words "marriage" and "Divorce" or "split it in half". Probably got ptsd from being single like the pathetic little man he is

[orcelito]

Honestly. OK. It's been some weeks since I did any writing. And I SHOULD push to finish ladue chapter 3. And i will. Eventually. BUT

My brain keeps scrabbling towards trigun, & I know it's inevitable I'm gonna write smth for it, but I still don't know what to write bc Realistically I'm still in the digestion phase. I'm not the type who will write while in the middle of absorbing a thing. I will write only after I have reasonably completed the thing, bc I would DIE if I got any details wrong for the thing

So yes I watched all of tristamp, but im only 20 ish chapters into trimax, so I'm not gonna be writing anything until after I finish that manga. Which you'd THINK would be good incentive for me to push to read the manga. But get this. Wolfwood Fanfic Good.

Also anytime I start reading I can't stop & I have literally given myself headaches doing this reading all of original trigun manga in one go And then 2 nights ago reading chapters 4 through 20 of tristamp in one go. Yes I read a few more last night and didn't get the Brain Grip, but I can tell shit's about to go down HARD & that's what got me getting only 4 hours of sleep the night before last bc i could not stop READING

I have to be cautious. Hyperfixations are a dangerous thing if you don't have the time to commit to them.

.... and I still really wanna write vashwood fanfic 😭

[blackvail22]

she was in my dream last night.

i havent dreamt about her in a really long time... i havent really thought about her either

it was quite odd. in real life, shes an asshole. she has the loudest voice in the room, saying something self-deprecating 90% of the time, and the other 10% is full of her talking shit about someone. in my dream, though... something makes me miss her.

she showed up at my doorstep with a bag full of stuff. it was full of all the art i made her, all of the letters i wrote her. i finally have got it back... i was always afraid that she threw them out or ruined them in a fit of rage. even though i dont really like many of my paintings, the ones i gave her, i was the most proud of them. i also made her a collage, and i even created a book-safe for her. i would spend hours at night writing letters for her, pouring out my heart and soul. when i saw all the sutff, i started crying. in the dream, i never once looked at her. the only thing i remember looking at is her long, frizzy, curly brown hair. thats all i really remember of the dream besides walking on the side of a highway and knowing how to drive (but not knowing how to park?).

anyway i love this song

on another side note, im wishhh i healed from my surgery already. im so fucking tired of my throat hurting, it hurting when i yawn (and feel weird afterwards bcos of my stitches), not being able to eat properly, not being able to talk, my ears hurting!!!!!

im so tired of complaining about this!!! i want everything yo be normal and to never need another surgery for this again but ooo ill be surprised in 9 DAYS when he tells me all about the disease i had (AND DIDNT FUCKING JNOW ABOUT)!

im exhausted. im tired. i dont want to spend another minute more than i need to in my moms room. im tired of how my dad is talking to me (makes me sick) and honestly, im losing my goddamn mind.

i dont really want to go to work anymore. my new coworker makes me dread my job now. and theres something about my recovery that makes me feel like i wont be able to go back to work when i told her i could (happens every surgery ive had, even my knee scope) and shes obviously gonna schedule me that week BUT HOW AM I GONNA CALL OFF IF SHE SCHEDULES ME 7-8 HOUR DAYS 4 DAYS IN A ROW? HOW IS SHE GONNA FIND SOMEONE TO COVER THAT????? AND IM DREADING THE PHONE CALL ILL HAVE TO MAKE ESP IF I CANT FUCKING TALK STILL (i can its just very tense and i choke on every word lmao) BECAUSE HOW AM I GONNA BE LIKE (strained) "hey! its *cough* [my name]. i *cough*--exuse me--am una- unable to come in .... for another f-*cough* few days. i cant talk.... and my doc...tor told me to rest...for a few days...." LIKE HELL THE FUCK NO

i feel like i constantly have acid in my throat. the smell of certain foods makes me sick, the smell of my moms cigarette smoke gives me a headache and nausea that doesnt go away (its 1am, my mom went to sleep at 9 and smoked before then. i still feel like i just inhaled the smoke) i have sharp pains in my side constantly, as well as the right side of my chest. I DONT FEEL GOOD AT ALL. all of my problems could be because i havent really been eating but its because i really cant? i drink water... yeah, i drink water when i remember to. (my body is probably in shock because i usually eat a lot and now im not/barely eating now LOL idek if that can happen but yeah.)

imma stop ranting now. i just wish this next week could fly by and i had a wfh job

[newtness532]

its 11. ive slept for less than 5 hours (my fault for sleeping after 6am, i know). my mom has people over and they are not even trying to not be extremely loud. i woke up, im hungry, i want to get up. i dont want to interact with said people (cause its people and im tireddddd). i feel like i might start crying.

[cactbi]

i hat emyself so much

[alolowrites]

Smack That

Summary: Bakugou has a lot of discipline, but he’s still a man who loves your ass.

Author’s Note: Heyyyyyy *nervous chuckle* how’s it going? I really wanted to get one more story out before 2021 ended and OF COURSE it was Bakugou lmao. I got inspired by a tik tok vid with a gym couple but added my little ~spicy~ twist at the end hahaha. Nothing too crazy (aka no smut, im sorry :/) Also everyone is aged-up! 

Story is kinda a sequel to Gymtleman if y’all wanna read it. 

Enjoy :D 

Word Count: 584

Growing an ass was a process that didn’t happen overnight. You must put in the work, put in the hours, and most importantly, put out a whole lot of tears at the gym. Luckily for you, those tears passed off as gritty sweat that just so happened to fall out of your eyes. 

You plopped on the bench, chugging down the water like a lost traveler who hadn't drunk anything for days. Instant relief washed over you, but the battle was far from over. You took a few moments to rest your aching muscles before trekking toward the dumbbells. The next set wouldn’t be any easier than the last one—Bakugou ensured this. 

After months admiring him from afar at the gym–plus an additional five months of dating–you’ve come to realize that Bakugou doesn’t half-ass anything, especially if it was your ass. He was tougher than a drill sergeant, pushing you to go above and beyond because he knew you had the potential. It was a complete mystery how you managed to survive this long at the gym with him.

You stared at the dumbbells, your chest heaving a bit. The fifty-pound weights were the correct choice, but the twenty-pound pair looked tempting. You glanced over your shoulders and saw Bakugou was busy on the bench press across the room. There was no way he would notice the tiny switch for your next set. You snatched the lighter pair—what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

But more importantly, it won’t hurt you or your dying legs. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you muttered, taking in a deep breath to push through the last set of the day. Except you barely had a chance to start after someone yanked the dumbbell out of your grasp. You shot up, annoyed. “Hey, what gives–oh.”

Bakugou gave you a firm look. 

“Sup, babe!” You stupidly hid the other dumbbell with a nervous chuckle. “Done with chests so soon?” 

“Give it.” 

“Ugh, fine.” 

You passed the dumbbell to him. Bakugou put them away and carried over the correct pair without breaking a sweat. You almost fell forward after holding the fifty-pound dumbbells that weighed like an anchor for a navy ship. 

“Really, babe?! It’s heavy!” 

“That’s the point,” Bakugou snorted, crossing his arms. “How else is that ass gonna grow?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grunted and gripped the dumbbells tight. Feeling cheeky, you wiggled your butt at him. “No pain, no gain, huh?” 

“That’s right.” 

You gasped at the hard sting on your cheeks from Bakugou’s greedy slap heard around the world, or at least the gym. You searched over your shoulders; so far, no one was looking your way. For once, the ego lifters’ loud, obnoxious grunts were a gift sent from above instead of the usual headache. 

“Katsuki! What the hell?!” You whacked Bakugou’s chest and hissed, “We’re in public!”

“Tch, so? I’m just feeling your progress,” Bakugou laughed, his eyes checking you out. He didn’t try to keep his hands off you again, squeezing your body as though you were his personal toy. He growled into your ear, “Gonna have to do a thorough check when we get home.”

Bakugou smacked your ass once again, and you rolled your eyes, fighting back a stupid grin. Sure he might be more disciplined than a drill sergeant, but Bakugou was still a man who had a weakness for your glorious ass. And he’ll make sure to appreciate it with a hearty smack that will leave you sore for days.

Don’t come at me if there’s a Bakugou handprint on your cheeks the next day aksjdhsakjdjh. 

Thank you for reading! And have a fantastic new year :D I will manifest good vibes for y’all for 2022.

[sickstarlight]

different causes of sickness

a friend had asked me for some advice on how I write differences between different types of sickness or reasons someone could get sick! so I typed up a reference of details I try to keep in mind in my writing. not by any means meant to be comprehensive but these are some of the more common things I see used or use myself!

eta: if you found this interesting or useful consider tipping me on kofi (/jallyns) or getting a $5 commission so I can fix my computer

drinking related:

drank too much: everyone’s threshold for this is going to be different obvs both in terms of how much alcohol they need and how wasted they’re able/willing to be before getting sick. also ime you have to be QUITE drunk for being drunk alone to make you sick, to the point where it may be dangerous, so personally I like this combined with something else - motion, something not sitting right in their stomach, etc - but it can be good otherwise too. probably the first thing the character will notice or be aware of if they have any warning is that being drunk stops feeling good at this point. they might feel flushed and/or clammy and will probably feel dizzy, their mouth might feel really dry depending on what they’ve been drinking. this is probably also the point where they recognize they have limited control of their body, feet might feel too heavy to move or head might be spinning, may feel very clumsy and suddenly become AWARE of it.

they might FEEL motion sick even if they’re not moving too because their motion sense is fucked at this point. might feel heavy but this is likely to be a whole body heaviness NOT just their stomach (though they might be very aware of it); might or might not be able to place the feeling of nausea. maybe burping but it depends on what they’ve been drinking (carbonated or not, mixed with soda, etc) and what else they ate! they MIGHT feel okay after throwing up but their friend probably shouldn’t let them drink anymore even if they do.

also this might come with very little warning, they may go from feeling fine and giggling with their friends to suddenly feeling Wrong to hurling all over the floor in a matter of minutes or even a few seconds. if they have friends with them who have been with them drunk regularly, depending on who’s more sober their friends might notice they look unsteady and/or queasy before they realize they don’t feel well.

other good things here: alcohol that tastes so strong it’s all they can taste when they throw it back up, feeling dizzy but not placing it as nauseous right away, feeling like their head is too heavy to lift. reeling on their feet when a drink hits them too hard and feeling the whole room spin.

drank too quickly - more likely to come on SUPER suddenly, but they’ll probably recognize it right away (unless they’ve already been drinking) because the alcohol hasn’t had time to get to their brain yet. so with gradually drinking more than they should they will get drunk first and THEN get sick, but if they drink too much too fast right off the bat they’ll start to feel some effects probably but they’ll also know pretty quick that their drinks aren’t gonna stay down.

hung over - throwing up from a hangover is a combination of a buildup of alcohol byproducts in the stomach, and the stomach lining being irritated + producing more acid. a headache is also a significant part of the misery of a hangover but (unlike a migraine, where the pain directly leads to vomiting) isn’t necessarily related to any queasiness, so the headache might get worse with sound, light, or movement, but their stomach likely won’t. they might feel a little like they have heartburn (or actually GET some acid reflux) from acid buildup, and their stomach might be sore or feel too warm as well as being upset. 

the only real cure for a hangover is slow sips of clear fluids and bland foods to help settle the stomach and reduce the acid, but lots of people swear by other things - certain kinds of foods, drinking more alcohol, etc, so that’s something you can have fun with! depending on how much alcohol is still in their bloodstream, they might also still feel a little drunk/tipsy and have some issues with their balance, thinking clearly, etc, which could make the nausea worse; also some people might always get sick from hangovers but others might not so consider how your character deals with that! They also might wake up sick, or feel sick right away, or might not feel sick at all until trying to get some fluids or take meds for their headache (especially since ibuprofen/aspirin also irritate the stomach lining).

food related:

ate too much -  character will likely feel bloated and tight, food might feel heavy in their stomach. depending on what they’re stuffed with there might be burping esp if there’s a lot of gas in their stomach, or a lot of gagging and unproductive dry heaving if it’s very heavy/solid. might need to drink something to get anything up, or have help from someone, or might just take a while to finally puke as their overstuffed stomach struggles to break down their meal enough that their stretched out muscles can get anything moving. any firm pressure on the stomach is gonna feel worse and likely to make them gag even if they’re not ready to throw up yet. maybe weak strained tummy noises as they try to digest. (side note if a lot of their stomach contents are liquid like soup, drinks, etc they’ll throw that up a lot faster; also a good excuse to discuss sloshing/jostling/swirling around in their tummy)

ate too quickly - ties in well to eating too much since it’s easy eating in a hurry to not realize you’re full until it’s already a little late - eating or drinking anything too fast can also make some people’s stomachs hurt or get upset in general, and is an easy way to end up swallowing a lot of air which can obviously lead to feeling much more full and tight with lots of burping that could easily bring up more!

ate something bad - this could be rotten, poorly prepared, or just something that upsets their stomach but what it is might change the feeling of it so there’s definitely variety here. probably also feels heavy but more localized, like they can feel the specific food they ate and where it’s settled in their stomach. might also be painful and cause cramping and tenderness. imo nausea from this is more likely to come in waves and recede but might also be more readily recognizable as nausea. some things I like in this scenario - character thinking about what they ate and feeling worse, imagining they can feel individual parts of their food in their stomach, burping and tasting what they ate (possibly noticing the taste having gone sour / etc in their stomach). good place to describe stuff like how greasy smt was/feeling the grease coating their stomach, or otherwise talk about the specific way the food feels in their tummy and how much it makes them want to puke. unlike with eating too much, they’re likely not to feel better until ALL of the offending food is out of their stomach (while with overeating, they may throw up a few times and then start to feel better once there’s less pressure on their stomach).

general notes - if something the character ate is what’s making them feel sick, a lot of focus on hyperawareness of how much food is in their stomach/how heavy it feels are gonna be big sensory things (as well as maybe taste, pressure/tightness, stomach contents moving around)

illness

appendicitis - if you’re looking for something more serious than food poisoning or a stomach bug, this is sure to end up with a character in the hospital as they’ll need surgery! the big distinguishing thing is pain, which will be sharp and located on the lower right side of the abdomen (or may start near the navel and move down). any kind of exertion or sudden muscle movement can make the pain worse. if the character or one of their caretakers is knowledgeable and suspects appendicitis, they might do the rebound test, which causes pain to get drastically worse AFTER placing pressure on the area and releasing it. sickness usually begins after the pain starts and may get worse when something exacerbates the pain as well.

in addition to nausea and vomiting, other symptoms can include fever, bloating, and bowel issues (either diarrhea or constipation), which will usually get worse over the course of the infection. if the character is treated soon enough (within 2-3 days) they’ll usually feel better after surgery and recover relatively quickly, but if they’re not seen by a doctor and the appendix ruptures they’ll likely need more extensive treatment including antibiotics and a longer hospital stay to make sure they won’t develop sepsis. (in some cases, symptoms could seem to suddenly go away when the appendix ruptures because it releases pressure, but worse symptoms would rapidly develop!)

rarely, there’s also such thing as chronic appendicitis, where milder symptoms may appear and recede over the course of weeks or months before developing into acute appendicitis and prompting surgery.

coughs, colds, strep, etc - can all cause vomiting as secondary symptoms thanks to postnasal drip, throat irritation, or forceful coughing. serious enough throat irritation or buildup of mucus can make a character gag, or feel the need to, and so can coughing up phlegm from their chest. if they’re sniffly and have their sinuses draining down the back of their throat, they may end up swallowing a lot of mucus too which can make them feel nauseous as their stomach gets full of sticky snot. I think these work best as emeto scenarios for characters with weak gag reflexes!

food poisoning - separate from eating something bad because food poisoning from a virus or bacteria is a longer lasting illness with a later onset; the character may first get sick within a few hours of eating the contaminated food, or it may incubate and make them sick within a day or two. like stomach flu (also frequently foodborne) many types can cause both vomiting and diarrhea, but symptoms vary depending on specific cause. characters also might puke early on and then develop more symptoms and become sicker later as bacteria multiply and produce toxins, and may take several days to recover from the later onset where they could have persistent nausea, or might feel okay and even regain their appetite if they don’t try to eat  but be unable to keep much or any food down. most types of food poisoning also cause pain, swelling, bloating, and cramping, usually in the lower part of the stomach and upper intestines, so those are other symptoms your character might have to deal with in addition to puking!

stomach flu - character may be feverish or achy as well as nauseous while their body fights the infection, which is an additional great source of hurt/comfort fuel! can cause both vomiting and diarrhea, so even food they manage to keep down might still sting them later. because it directly causes irritation and inflammation in the stomach and lower GI tract, character might throw up frequently or after every meal, or might be able to handle clear fluids but no solids, or some bland foods but nothing with significant sugar, spices, or fat. they also might only be able to drink or eat in very small amounts without bringing it back up. their stomach may hurt and feel like it’s cramping even if they haven’t tried to eat, and they may get only very brief relief of nausea after each time they’re sick because it reduces the immediate pressure on the stomach but not the inflammation; they might feel nauseous constantly or end up dry heaving even when there’s nothing in their stomach, and might need to keep a basin of some kind nearby for a couple of days since they can’t be sure if they’re done. dehydration is a common complication and can cause headaches, weakness, and dizziness in addition to other symptoms! the most common stomach virus, norovirus, is also EXTREMELY contagious, and virus particles can aerosolize and scatter widely during vomiting, so the caretaker may not be safe either.

injury, other medical

anaesthesia - people react to this in all kinds of ways but getting sick is really common so it can be combined with just about any reaction. character might be disoriented or dizzy and have trouble with balance, walking, other coordinated movement. some might be really confused and have trouble communicating their ideas clearly or say things that might not make any sense to other characters. from the anaesthetized character’s perspective though they’re  probably making total sense so it can also be fun to include their muddled thought process and what they’re feeling or thinking that they express in weird ways! other characters might feel pretty clearheaded and be able to communicate clearly though. they might feel “light” or like they're floating, or very  detached from their body; this may cause more dizziness and vertigo. they may also be cold they might feel nauseous right away and persistently from the anaesthetic irritating their stomach, or might only get sick from moving that makes the “floating” feeling worse. general anaesthetic is usually used for surgery so if they aren’t immediately nauseous the character can also wake up really hungry from fasting before, so eating too much or too quickly might also make them realize they’re nauseous and end up with them puking.

concussion - there are a lot of reasons someone might get sick from a concussion, but the most common (non threatening) are vertigo / vestibular disturbance and headaches! the character might  get nauseous or throw up when they turn too quickly or stand up too fast if their balance center is disrupted, or might have head pain similar to a migraine that makes them sick and can have similar sensitivities. mild concussions without other complications can still last up to a week after the injury, but the character should get sick less and less often as time goes on, so the most intense phase for sickness caused by a concussion is shortly after it happens! Frequently repeated or prolonged bouts of vomiting are often signs of more serious injury though, so if you’re keeping it mild they should probably be brief and a little spaced out even early on, though a character might have intermittent nausea between them. other symptoms of concussion are important too here - big ones are short term amnesia, loss of coordination, difficulty concentrating, and confusion. they might also hear ringing in their ears or sometimes have visual disturbances like in migraines! 

migraine - the pain from migraines can directly cause vomiting, especially when it’s at its peak, but it might also be caused by aura effects on balance and vision! (some people get tunnel vision or “kaleidoscope” vision with migraines, some just get dizzy, some people even hallucinate strong smells or tastes which could also lead to nausea!) for some people, the headache gets better after throwing up, but not everyone; they also might or might not feel the buildup of nausea or persistent nausea throughout their migraine, or alternately might retch or throw up almost IMMEDIATELY when any trigger makes their pain worse (common triggers are bright or flashing light, loud or high pitched sounds, strong smells, and sudden movement, but people have lots of different triggers so they can be a lot of things!) many people can’t chase off a migraine until after they’ve slept so you might also include them trying to get comfortable only to have their head start hurting worse or their stomach get upset and make them scramble to get over the trash bin.

motion sickness - anyone can get motion sick but some people are more prone to it than others! so you might have characters who always get motion sick in any moving vehicle, or who are okay in cars but can’t travel on water, or who only get sick with intense movement like on roller coasters - or characters who aren’t prone to motion sickness in general, but discover they get it when fatigued, anxious, etc. different characters might also experience it differently - for some there may be a cycle of gradual buildup of nausea until it becomes unbearable and they throw up, while for others it might come on suddenly, or they might have low level nausea throughout a trip but only puke when there’s a more sudden or violent movement. some people also only get motion sick after a period of time, and might be fine on short trips but get sick if they’re traveling longer.

other notes: many people who get carsick don’t get sick if they’re driving! being able to get fresh air also helps many people, as well as focusing on the horizon if possible. some people prone to motion sickness will also experience the opposite when sitting still but watching movement onscreen like in a video game. likewise, reading or looking at a still object for long while moving can trigger motion sickness, even in people who are less prone to it otherwise.

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.” 

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

You lowered your head. 

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 

No wonder he was so angry. 

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

[rommahh]

Better

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairing: Buckybarnesxfem!reader

{This is for @metalbuckaroo's challenge. I had this brewing for a minute but college has got in a chokehold. I chose prompt #30 from the given prompt list. I hope y'all like this read. Love, R}

Bucky trailed behind Y/N as she ignored his calls. Her boots clicked loudly in the small hallway as she rushed towards their shared apartment. Her keys shook in her hand, body tense with anxiety and anger.

Bucky reached her at the door, his hands loosely gripping her arms. Y/N shoved the door open, her body snapping away from his. Y/N haphazardly throws her keys in the small bowl that sat on the hallway side table.

Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she tried to remain calm.

“Y/N please, what is going on? Why are you so mad?” Bucky questioned, slamming the door behind him as his own frustrations started to catch up with him.

“I'm going to bed.” Is all she said to him without even meeting his eyes. She was quick to enter her room and lock the door before he could say anymore. Bucky stood behind her door in confusion. His body still tingled with the lasting effects of the shots he took hours prior.

Sitting on your bed, Y/N finally released. Her shoulders dropped, her body hunching over itself as the tears started flowing.

Y/N had been looking for Bucky for what felt like hours. He was her ride back to the apartment and having been at this party for over four hours- she was exhausted. There was a twinge of disappointment that lingered in her caused by Bucky's disappearance. He invited her to this party tonight but quickly left her to her own devices the moment the both of them walked through the frat’s doors.

The house was mainly empty except for the few lingering bodies that were drunkenly wandering around. She climbed up the stairs that lead to a common room on the second floor. Y/N’s cute white go-go boots were tight on your feet, making her wince at every step. Fashion was a moment type thing, not a four hour long excursion.

Y/N heard a group of voices leading from the common room once you reached the top of the stairs. She listened out waiting to see if she could hear Bucky’s voice before walking through the doors of the common room.

“I don't know why you hang out with that girl Bucky.” Her ears perked at his name. Y/N almost walked through the door but she took a step back to listen to what they were saying.

“Yeah, shes fucking weird.” The group laughed. “I mean look at how she dressed tonight. She’s wearing a costume.”

Y/N looked down at her 80’s inspired dress with a frown. She thought she looked cute tonight, Bucky said she looked cute. She couldn't stop blushing after she heard his words.

“She’s a freak barnes. All she does is follow you around. Are you sure you guys aren't dating?” One of the boys asked with a chuckle. No one said her name yet but she knew they were talking about her. She could tell.

“Y/N’s not that bad. She just doesn't have any friends. I don't like her like that, not my type. She's got that weird anxiety thing.” Bucky's voice finally sounded out from the group. Y/N heart hurt hearing his words. Weird anxiety thing?

“Yeah, making her a freak. So you're just friends with her out of pity? Are you at least getting community service hours?” The group laughed again, Bucky's deep laugh standing out to Y/N.

“You have a lot of strength for a man who's not getting any ass from the girl he's keeping company with. Shes weird as fuck but her body is still bangin. Have you ever copped a feel of her tits? I would hang out with the loser if I got to fuck her too.” Someone commented. Y/N felt bile rise in her throat. She could feel a panic attack approaching having heard the sexual comments about her body. She stepped out from around the wall into the common room. All eyes snapped up to her, some eyes widening in shock. Bucky just looked up, not catching on that his roommate may have heard the horrid words said about her.

“I-im ready to go home, Bucky.” She hadn't looked up from where her feet were rooted on the stained wood floors. Bucky slowly wobbled up from his seat. The rest of the guys watching quietly, some snickering at Bucky's submissiveness.

“Here sweets, you're gonna have to drive.” Bucky says handing his keys over to Y/N. Without looking at him, she snatches the keys from his hands and quickly retreats to his car. Bucky stumbles behind her confused by her attitude.

Y/N walked to Bucky’s car, arms covering whatever they could cover on her body. Her mind telling her she was unsafe, her anxiety telling her even worse things.

Bucky eyes burned from the headache he had. He felt physically ill as he woke up from the living room couch. Last night's activities blur in his mind, no clear memories presenting themselves. He sits up to rest his forearms on his knees trying to calm his bubbling stomach.

The first thing he notices as he comes to his senses is the lack of Y/N’s noise. Normally the small apartment would be filled with the sounds of her sunday playlist as she cleans about. He also doesn't smell her extra dark and strong coffee that she only makes for sundays. He doesnt smell her out of the can cinnamon rolls either that she would normally wake him up with on a small tray with said coffee.

He finds it odd that her presence is lacking in the apartment. Standing, he makes his way over to her room knocking on it slightly. He hears shuffling from the other side but no one comes to open the door.

“Hey sweets, everything ok?” He knocks again to gain her attention.

“I-Im fine Bucky, please go away.” She stutters out to Bucky. Bucky is shocked by her statement not used to being pushed away by her.

“Oh ok, just let me know if you need anything.” He says quietly.

Y/N remained the same way over the next few days. She rarely came out of her room when she was in the apartment leaving Bucky on his own. She stopped making him meals out of kindness or filling up his canisters of water for workouts. She stopped baking him treats as midday pick me ups. She didnt wait for him to get out of classes so they could gossip about what was going on on campus. She didnt bother him at all.

Bucky felt uneasy about Y/N’s silence. He was hurt by her sudden disappearance. Hurt that she could just ghost him without any reason. But there was a reason, Bucky just didnt remember.

Y/N sluggishly walked into the apartment after taking an extensive exam in one of her classes. She tried to walk quietly throughout the apartment to not catch the attention of Bucky. She walks softly on her feet close to the opening of the kitchen.

“Hey.” A quiet voice makes Y/N jump in her spot. Her mission of going unnoticed failed. Bucky leans against the kitchen counter that is parallel to the opening of the kitchen. His feet are crossed in front of him, hands holding a cup of tea.

“Hi.” Her tone matches his. She turns her body to face his, hands fidgeting with each other. She slightly moved from foot to foot, a trait that had been acquired out of nerves. Bucky recognized her tic, his heart constricting at the thought that he might have done something to cause it.

“Y/N, please, what's going on?” Bucky can see that she's not wearing one of her normal outfits that are adorned in bright colors and fun patterns. Instead, her body is covered in a boring sweater that hides most of her body. She wears a large pair of jeans underneath, a belt tightly bounding it to her body.

“Nothing Bucky.” She dismisses. Bucky feels his anger peak. A range of emotion he tried to hide away breaching over its point. He missed his best friend beyond belief and all she could give was a few words.

“It's not nothing Y/N!” He snaps slamming his mug of tea on the counter. Y/N flinches at the sound. Her hands start to shake, not out of fear of Bucky but from unwarranted anxiousness. “I've given you your space but its killing me. I miss you Y/N. I dont get what happened?”

Y/N feels her eyes well up with tears.

“You hurt me Bucky.” It was Bucky’s turn to flinch hearing her words. He hurt her?

“I don't know what I did though.” His voice sounded childlike as he whined.

“At the party, you let your friends talk poorly about me. You-you let them call me a freak and-and weird. They made fun of my clothes and said you were hanging out with me out of pity and you just sat there and laughed James!” Her voice rose with every word. Bits and pieces of that night float around in his head. He can slightly remember the conversation but nothing is clearly showing in his head.

“I'm sorry they said that Y/N but you know that's not true. We both know our relationship, I don't know why you're letting them get to you.”

“They talked about my anxiety. You talked about my anxiety!”

“That's it? That's why you're not talking to me?” He exclaimed throwing his hands in the air.

“You let them sexualize me!” The kitchen filled with an uncomfortable silence. Bucky’s exterior softened.

“What?” His tone was drastically softer than it was earlier.

“You just sat and listened to them as they talked about my body. They talked about my boobs and if youve had sex with me and you said nothing. They said that they would hang with the loser if they could fuck me...How could you let them say that about me?” Y/N whimpered. Her hands cradled her face as she sobbed. Bucky saw the way her chest heaved with each sob, tears forming in his own eyes.

“I didn't know. I wouldn't have let them say those things sober. You have to know that.” He almost fell to his knees pleading for her forgiveness.

“You even said you wouldn't date me. I know its stupid but I thought you liked me back. You told me you loved me. You've taken me out on dates. You've kissed me for goodness sake!”

“I know and I'm sorry. I do like you, I don't know why I said that. I like you so much.” His knees buckled slightly but he held his ground.

“Obviously you dont Bucky. We should just stay away from each other from now on and I won't be renewing my leasing contract at the end of the semester.” She finalizes. Buckys whispers a small no in protest. “You really hurt me, Bucky. I would never let anyone slander you. I respect you too much to allow for someone else to disrespect you.”

With that being said, she gave Bucky one last look over before walking away. Bucky was knocked out of his thoughts at the sound of her door slamming shut and the lock being secured.

Bucky sat on the kitchen floor, the cold tile seeping through his pants to chill his legs. His face adorned with a frown, tears sliding down his warm cheeks. Y/N was his best friend and he ruined it by being a shitty person. He knows he should have defended her, defended their relationship.

Bucky’s rolly chair was his only source of entertainment at his desk in the lobby of the admissions office. Today was a slow day. There were only a few students who came in asking for help finding buildings or looking for the financial aid office. Some high school student came in for tours but his coworkers beat him to doing tours so here he was stuck in the quiet office. He had already stolen a large amount of guest snacks, a cold bottle of tea and a sugar cookie with the school's logo on it.

His chair spinning activities came to a halt when he heard the front door open with a small jingle sounding from it. He took a moment to let the dizziness fade away before he looked up. Bucky felt his breath stop in his throat.

There stood a girl with overalls and a bright colored top. She wore dark green converse, high tops, with frilly socks that peeked from the top. She had large glasses that framed her face perfectly. She was looking around the office, eyes wide with wonder. Her eyes finally met Bucky's, making a large smile appear on her face.

“Hi!” She exclaimed walking up to Bucky’s desk.

“Hey, what can I help you with today?” Bucky asked cooly.

“I just transferred here and I was wondering if you knew where I could apply for on campus jobs?” She placed her hands on top of the counter of Bucky’s desk. He admired her baby blue acrylics that had white flowers on them.

“Oh um, the admissions office is hiring. We do all of the tours for highschool students, or package and mail acceptance letters. Sometimes we plan scholarship events. It's an easy pay type of job. I just sit here and do homework my whole shift.” Bucky answers. “What's your name so I can get my boss to contact you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky quickly scribbled your name on a post it note and stuck it to his laptop as a reminder. “Do you really like this job or are you just trying to pull me in?” She jests with a small smile on her face.

“I mean it's a decent job but im sure with you working here it would make it ten times prettier.” Bucky smirked at the giggle that escaped Y/N. He wasn't normally a flirt but he couldn't help himself with this one.

“Oh really? How many times have you said that line to a girl?” Bucky put a hand to his chest in a fake offense.

“You think too low of me Y/N. I saved that one for the prettiest girl to walk through the door.”

“Hmm, ok. I'll believe it only because my ego needs this boost. Hey, you never told me your name. How am I supposed to write about this encounter in my journal if I don't have your name?”

“My name is James but I prefer if people just call me Bucky. Short for Buchanon, I know it's weird.” Bucky leans back in his chair, arms crossed. He can see her eyes checking out the way his muscles flex underneath his long sleeve shirt. He may have purposefully flexed a little extra for show.

“No, I love it. I dont think ive ever met a Bucky.” She counters. She leans forward, placing her elbows on the counter, her chest pressed against the front of the counter.

“Well I'm glad I'm your first Bucky.” He jokes with a small smile on his face. There was a small moment of silence shared between the two as they just looked at each other. Bucky couldn't help but think about how cute she was as Y/N thought the same thing.

“Oh gosh, I'm probably holding you up from your work.” She snaps out of her little spell rolling her eyes at herself. “I should get going.”

Bucky frowned at the idea of her leave, wanting nothing more than to continue talking to the new girl.

“Right, of course. Maybe I could get your number...so I can notify you about the job.” Bucky proposes. Y/N raises one eyebrow in question, a knowing smile placed on her lips.

“Sure thing bucky.” He hands her a pen and post it for her number. “I wouldn't be opposed to you using this number for things other than work too.” She suggested. She signed her name on the post it note ending it with a small heart.

“I will definitely take you up on that offer. No take backs though when I start sending you random shit.” She giggled, leaning up from her spot. Bucky basked at the sweet sound. He stood up to meet her on the other side of the desk.

“Well Bucky, it was lovely to meet you.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake, he reciprocated the action. Her hands were soft and warm, he thought. She gave him one last smile before walking away.

It was warm outside on the quad as Bucky sat by himself. He sat at the table that would normally be occupied by Y/N and him. Y/N would bring lunch- made by her. Anytime Bucky would try to help her by making lunch she would kick him out of the kitchen. Today, Bucky sat by himself, with no hand made lunch. He had a greasy bag of french fries and a large coke. He planned on eating his sorrows away.

“Hey Bucky!” A voice yelled out to him. Looking up from his fries, Bucky looked towards the sound that broke him out of his fries excursion. Tanner and Logan, his friends from the party, came walking over to him. They both sat down, throwing their lunch onto the table.

“Where's Ms. weirdo?” Tanner asks, mouth full of food. Bucky grimaced at Tanner's manners. He also felt the anger he should have felt on Saturday bloom in his chest.

“She's not weird.” Bucky snapped, fists tightening in his lap. Tanner scoffed, Logan laughing along with him.

“Says you. She is fucking weird. Did you finally get some from her or something? Defending her and shit.” Logan clapped Tanner on his back agreeing with him. “Shit, good for you dude. I would have fucked her a while ago. Probably would have kept her face down so I wouldn't have to see her-”

Before Tanner could finish his sentence, he was thrown from his seat from the powerful punch being landed on his jaw. His feet flew from where he was sitting, landing on his back with a heavy thud.

“Dude what the fuck?” Tanner stood wiping his face from the blood that started to trickle down from his bloody eyebrow. Bucky had never felt anger like this before. His heart was racing, his breathing labored. His cheeks were red and warm, eyebrows turned down.

“No, you don't get to make fun of her and make sexual comments about her.” Bucky snarled. Tanner rolled his eyes, walking closer to Bucky.

“Oh fuck off with that! You didn't defend her this hard on saturday.” Tanner's mistake after his words was shoving Bucky's shoulders back. Bucky reacted quickly by shoving Tanner with even more force.

Tanner threw a punch to Bucky’s jaw, making his head fly back. Bucky tackled Tanner to the ground, throwing punches left and right. Tanner fought back, hands flying landing punches wherever he could land them.

Logan was able to pull Bucky off of Tanner, warning the two that campus police would arrest them if they were caught. Both boys stared at each other fuming. Bucky snatched his trash and his backpack up, the scowl never leaving his face.

“If I ever see you looking or talking to Y/N, I will bash your face in.” Bucky growled.

Y/N felt better today. She found the strength to wear a cute outfit versus the oversized clothes she had been wearing prior out of fear. She didn't want anyone to look at her in any harmful way. She wanted to wear her cute outfits that were sometimes form fitting and short. She liked to wear her cute period pieces that had her own twist on them. She spent many years hating her body and the way she looked. She deserved to feel cute without thinking she is at fault for being sexualized and poorly treated.

She whipped out one of her favorite outfits today, loving the way it fit on her body making her feel confident. Sitting at the front desk of the admissions office, her feet propped up on the desk. Her shift was going by slowly, no one needing assistance this late in the day.

The door burst open making Y/N jump from her seat. She stood up shocked to see Bucky walk in with a huff. He wasn't supposed to work today but here he was. Y/N gasped looking at his cut lip and bruising eye.

“Bucky, what happened?” She maneuvered her way around the desk to stand in front of the beat up boy. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks to examine his injuries. He moved his face away from her tears brimming his eyes.

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry. I should have protected you from them. I should've told them not to speak about you that way. You are more than some eye candy for men to act disgusting towards. You are beautiful and eclectic. You have a brilliant mind that shines brighter than anyone elses on this campus.” He spoke to her softly.

“I don't understand Bucky. What made you have this change of heart? You didn't give two shits about me last weekend.” She crossed her arms defensively.

“I know and I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe it was the alcohol but that's no excuse. I love you. I love all of you. You're not weird. You're your own person and I love everything about you. You do so much for me and I feel like shit for not doing the bare minimum for you.” His words stunned her.

“You love me?”

“God, with everything I have. Since the day you walked in here with those overalls. I've spent the past four years loving you.” Bucky whispered. He grabbed her hand, thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

“I love you too, Bucky.  I really do and I'm hurt. I don't think the hurt will go away for some time. You let them speak horribly about me. If you loved me like I was your girl, you would have defended me.” She spoke sorrowfully.

“I know, I know. I can't change the fact that I did nothing but I can tell you that I'm sorry. I'm always going to protect you. I did today. Tanner may be sporting a nasty goose egg on his eye because of his dumbass words.” Y/N giggled softly, touching his bruising knuckles.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“I want to go back to normal. I miss you in the mornings and-and during our lunch breaks outside. I miss you.” Bucky stated.

“I miss you too.”

Bucky watched her eyes drop down to his lip, busted and all. He leaned forward slightly hoping she would meet him in the middle. She met him the rest of the way pressing her lips to his. Bucky relished this moment. He relished to be even sharing  moments with the girl he's been in love with since the second he saw her.

“I'm gonna be better, I promise.”

[philtstone]

For the touches meme: MCU ship of your choice with#8 :)

#8 -- shielding someone with their body

u can also read this on ao3 <3 to say "this prompt got away from me" would be an understatement and yet i still have the temerity to follow it up with "and there might be a part two!" lord. anyway, apologies to kaadhu because she doesn't go here at all but also she did give me the green light to be self-indulgent with this one, so.

the "Jonah Day" was inspired by a scene from Abraxas's phenomenal fic series "Just Two Guys" which was in turn quoting Anne of Green Gables. naturally i had to give it my own little spin. the fic concept itself was inspired by "Jazz Standards Vol 3" by sixes_and_sevens and "In the Woods Somewhere" by @rebellconquerer, both of whom are brilliant authors whose versions of these characters are inspiring in how much they are rich and full of feeling and complexity. i wanted to try my hand at the idea without there being an associated plot arc. hopefully i did it justice bc ive been working on this for a week and i have other Responsibilities so if i dont post it now and be at peace with its imperfections ill never get anything else done. this fic is part of this series and while technically a stand alone i guess the emotional beats of it are very much tied into their previous growing. i wanted to show that they have a process for working through things but that it's inevitably still evolving.

anyway. with that out of the way -- enjoy! (or if you're kaadhu, hopefully i can make it up to u with the star wars prompts im gonna work on next)

It’s one of those days. 

It’s like everyone woke on the wrong side of some bed, and the world has not thought to slow down and accommodate them, and the headaches Sarah has started getting every few weeks, which she refuses to call pre-migraines, have settled at the back of her skull. 

Also, it is raining. Badly.

Cassius used to call ‘em Jonah Days. Only person had it worse in the world, he’d say, was probably Jonah and his whale.

Sarah does not have a whale, but she does have that headache, and has spent all day tracking down a mistake on a license she ordered three weeks ago and trying to make up for the work she missed last week when AJ had the stomach flu and had to spend an afternoon at the hospital. It had just been her at home; Rhodes had called on Sam’s behalf, and Bucky had had to fly out on short notice, something half classified with a tension undercutting it that left Sarah’s tongue feeling dry. He got back in yesterday. Yesterday was not as much of a misery as today but still dragged itself out, and was prolonged enough that they only had time for a brief kiss hello and the curt acknowledgement that Sam was alright. Whatever had happened, Bucky was not happy about it. She’d noticed, of course. His face was drawn, and everything he said came out like the second half was being held as a careful package at the back of his throat. Sarah, distracted by life, had not thought about it too hard. On the rare occasion the rarer mission (getting rarer still) is genuinely awful, she has realized he’ll always find a way to call her. Sometimes, as a reassurance for her. Other times, for his own sanity. Once he called barely three hours after he left, like by some prescient intuition he knew she’d be sitting at the kitchen table on the verge of a panic (another one of those Days). Another time, in the middle of the dairy aisle at Wal-Mart, she picked up the phone to him crying. 

Nothing like that happened this time. He’d said I’m fine, quietly, into her temple, and Sarah had been too tired to try to coax anything else out of him, so she let it be. 

When she gets home, today – The Jonah Day – stomping into the kitchen with as much purpose as she can muster, Bucky is sitting at the kitchen table, something pale and unkempt about his face, and nursing an empty mug of tea. 

She knows it’s tea because of the glittery little tag that’s hanging from the edge of the mug. In truth this should be her first red flag: there’s only one kind of tea he drinks, and a rare handful of occasions he drinks it on. She’s never had a great love for honeybush, but the stuff Ayo’s wife Aneka sends is nice-smelling and strong enough to be medicinal. Sarah’s not in any mood to be catching flags today, red or otherwise. She shuffles in and wonders where they’ve put the ibuprofen and nearly steps on the cat, who scratches her foot in her yowly attempt to get away from Sarah’s sandal.

“Shit –” Her elbow slams into the cabinet as she startles – “Argh! Out of the kitchen, Alpine – Cass! What’d I tell you about getting these dishes done after school? Do I look like a dishwashing service to you?”

That had been the deal. There is an abstract part of her that knows Cass is working on a science project and an even more abstract part of her that knows that, in the regular routine that’s emerged, Bucky would have reminded him. 

Clearly he has not. Sarah is too tired to process why that might be. Maybe he forgot. She doesn’t think he got much sleep last night, which isn’t exactly uncommon. She remembers waking up to an empty bed and a rumpled sleeping bag on the bedroom floor. She’d nearly tripped over that, too.

Could be that’s what got the whole day going.

“Can you get Cass?” Sarah asks, only half-looking at Bucky. She walks through the remainder of the kitchen and peers into the coffee pot to see if there are any dregs left from the morning. The rainstorm outside seems to have turned into a thunderstorm; Sarah can hear its low rumblings. Are there leftovers in the fridge? No. And no one has bothered to think of dinner, either. She swallows back the urge to curse on her next prolonged inhale, the delay in reply rubbing her already edgy nerves wrong for no reason. “Bucky.”

“Hm? Oh.” In a side glance, she can see him shift his elbows on the table, rub at his eyes and nod. “Yeah, um. Yeah, I’ll get him. Let me put this in the sink.”

Another rumble. If the power goes out she thinks she might scream.

Speaking of the sink: she tosses the thermoses the boys left on the kitchen counter into it with a dull clang and wonders if she has time to take a shower. It doesn’t occur to her that maybe she will feel better if she takes a moment to breathe and perhaps ask Bucky for a hug – Sarah’s habits of self-reliance started well before her first marriage, even – but anyway, she feels disgusting. She smells like sweat and fish and she wants to sleep for ten years and cry at once. She’s worried if he gets too close she’ll cringe, or snap, or something foolish. Still. He has to enter her space to rinse the mug out. She tries not to look at him lest the crying overtake her and attempts to source a granola bar to maybe take the edge off her headache. 

Overloud footsteps thunder abruptly down the stairs. Suddenly, Cass is barreling in, an overdue apology loud on his tongue. This happens a half second before his hip knocks into one of the kitchen chairs, which drags, scrapes loudly, and pinches an unassuming Alpine’s tail between its leg and the table’s. 

Alpine shrieks.

“CASS!” Sarah yells, forgetting herself. 

“I’m sorry!” yelps Cass immediately, wide-eyed and penitent. 

“It was an accident,” Bucky says quickly. He’s straightened beside her, and his voice has something strained under the placating instinct, “it’ll be fine –” 

One free hand comes up in front of him in a gesture she knows very well. “For the love of God!” Sarah yells. “No, it was not! I have told you a million times, Cassius Wilson –” Bucky’s hand is too close to her. She grabs it, to bat it away, shove it back towards him. Alpine is still yowling holy vengeance. Cass is apologizing more loudly now, and she does not notice Bucky’s shoulders tensing, and her hand connects with his a split second before the rumbling beginnings of thunder turn into a full blown clap outside.

With the piercing pop of breaking ceramic the mug in his hand explodes, spraying its pieces all over the floor. Sarah’s mouth lets out a startled little cry and she does not realize why that is until she looks down, heart in her throat, and realizes his other hand has shot out and grabbed her wrist.

A reflex, probably. Her tendons are pinching but Sarah knows this kind of thing can spook anyone on a good day. And she’d been yelling so loudly, right in his ear.

“Sorry!” says Cass again, reedy with the fright he gave himself, the suddenness, the mundane violence of a cup breaking and the spring storm. His voice is thinned out with the upshooting squeak of pre-teen concern and in a moment Sarah’s anger fizzles. She can hear the rain lashing at the windows. 

“It’s alright,” she says, parroting Bucky’s earlier words, “it’s just a mug.” 

Bucky is still holding her wrist. The angle is awkward – Sarah is too close to him and too far away from him at once and her forearm is bent low, towards the kitchen counter. The metal pads of his fingers dig into her bones, pushing them together, and when she comes to gently tug away, she can’t move it an inch. “Ow,” comes out of her mouth, muttered and mostly surprised, before she can stop it.

“Alpine!” she hears Cass say. “No, you have to get on the table or your feet’ll get hurt –”

Poor Alpine has not had a moment of peace since Sarah entered the kitchen. She’s never loved thunderstorms and beyond her own pinched tail and trodden foot the tiny cat is tense and staring at Bucky and Sarah with wide, alert, too-knowing eyes. Sarah cannot process this. She is looking at Bucky’s face. Every line of his body is iron hewn, pupils large and dilated, lips too red and parted where he is breathing heavily. He’s staring at the floor, and the broken ceramic, but there suddenly isn’t a doubt in Sarah’s mind that he isn’t seeing jack shit.

“B,” she tries. “You okay?”

Nothing. His grip on her arm is so tight that she’s started to feel it in her elbow. She can see blood trickling down his right hand thumb where she realizes the broken ceramic cut into his palm; he didn’t startle and drop it, then.

“Mom?” Cass has noticed them. “Uncle Bucky?”

“James,” Sarah says, as steadily as she can. “Let go, please.” 

She bites her tongue just before the rest of the sentence comes out; she would not, in a million years, in any lifetime, say You’re hurting me when Cass is still in the room. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

“We all just had a fright,” Sarah says, trying to subtly shift her shoulder. “Cass, put your running shoes on. Then go to the supply closet upstairs and grab the hand vacuum and dustpan.”

“But –” 

“Tell AJ not to come down ‘til we’ve cleaned the broke mug. We don’t get it clean soon Alpine might hurt herself.”

This is motivation enough to manage him. She thinks for Cass this must still be one of those momentary incursions of chaos into routine that are sprinkled throughout her own childhood. She watches her son nod rapidly out of the corner of her eye, and then he scrambles away and back up the stairs.

“James,” Sarah says, once he is out of earshot. “I need you to hear me. We’re in the kitchen. You broke a mug by accident. There’s a rainstorm outside. Please let go, you’re hurting my arm.”

He is not entirely frozen because she can see the minute trembles in his chest and chin and bloodied right hand. It’s not a lot, but it’s started dripping onto the floor. 

“James. Bucky!” 

The pressure on her wrist is starting to edge past uncomfortable and into a territory Sarah doesn’t want to think about. She doesn’t think he’s squeezing any harder, only the shock has started to fade, and she is really feeling it now. It might even bruise. Not badly – Sarah knows her own body well enough to guess – but enough that the idea makes her sick to her stomach. She can see the dull brown of the last drops of tea from the mug, splattered onto the pale grey of his indoor t-shirt. Those will stain for sure, she thinks. Her head pounds. Her brain feels like scrambled eggs. A tiny shard of ceramic bites into her pinky toe, between her sandal straps, and she can hear AJ’s inquiring voice from upstairs, asking loudly what happened. Knowing her children he will be down in a moment and heedless of any possible danger, broken mug related or otherwise. 

“Baby,” she says, “forgive me.”

She reaches forward with her free hand and fits her thumb and forefinger into the groove beneath where his rotator cuff should be. Sarah presses as hard as she can. Like a flipped switch the grip on her hand releases and Sarah has to bite back another curse when the frozen deadweight of the vibranium prosthetic freefalls and crashes directly onto the ground, just barely missing her shin. 

She is not in any place to understand what the effect must be outside of a shock, but immediately Bucky makes a strangled noise of surprise and slumps back against her cluttered kitchen counter with the imbalanced movements of some leggy baby animal. 

Only, for perhaps the first time, Sarah is acutely aware of how large he is, how ungainly and imposing all that muscle can be. 

“Be careful, the mug –!” she hears herself yell anyway, entirely instinct. 

“The mug,” Bucky repeats, slurred, blinking. His right hand reaches up to scrabble at the thin air to his left. She can see the fumbling movement of his wrist, the way his body leans. His eyes meet hers, wide and startled and questioning. He’s seeing her. She didn’t think it would make such a difference, but she nearly cries. The sound crawls up her esophagus but does not quite make it out.

“Sarah?” he asks, voice small.

Jesus Lord, Sarah thinks. The whole thing happened so fast – nothing long or drawn out about it. Hell, she could pretend it didn’t happen at all. He stares at her, and then the shattered mug on the floor, and then his arm, deadened and inert. Finally his eyes land on her wrist, which she has cradled instinctively in her other hand, and is rubbing. Dread floods into his expression. 

“It’s alright,” Sarah says, “It’s fine, you got spooked, we’ll just –”

She tries to reach for him, working both with and against her own instincts.  

“No,” he chokes. 

She can see him beginning to tremble.

“James –”

“No!” The sheer panic in his voice does not help her own at all, “Stay – wait, don’t, please –” He pulls away from her and his foot nudges one of the larger mug pieces with a loud scraping clink. Between this and his sudden movement Sarah flinches. 

For a long moment, Bucky gapes at her.

Then, slowly, he sinks down to the floor. The tremble in his body becomes more visible. His remaining arm comes up to wrap around the crown of his head, half-covering his face. His knees are pulled up to his chest, like he is trying to make himself as small as possible in front of her. You’re gonna get ceramic in your jeans, Sarah wants to say. The wreckage of the mug spreads out around him.

“Mom?” calls Cass’s voice from the stairs, followed by footsteps. “We got the vacuum! Should I –”

“Stay outside the kitchen, Cass.” It’s immediate – hoarse-voiced but louder and firmer than Sarah thought him capable of right now. His face is still covered. “Too many small pieces on the floor, I’ll clean it up myself. You too, AJ.”

Their footsteps stall. “Okay!” she hears. Sarah sways in place. 

“Sarah,” he says, into his single arm. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, God.”

It’s alright, Sarah wants to say. She managed it earlier, didn’t she? Her wrist is more or less fine now. Maybe a bit tender, but nothing that couldn’t have happened a million other ways.

The words don’t come out. Instead, to her horror, a small sound like a sob does. 

It’s alright, she urges herself. Just say it.

“I love you,” is what she says instead. She leaves the kitchen to fetch the dustpan. It’s only once she’s hit the laundry room and locked the door behind her that she lets herself begin to cry.

**

By bedtime, Sarah’s wrist is properly tender. The kitchen has long since been cleaned. In between her stint in the laundry and AJ’s innocent declaration that she needed a shower, Bucky went ahead and ordered them pizza for dinner, so that was one more thing she didn’t have to think about too. No one put the boys to bed properly but when she checked in they had managed alright themselves. When she enters the bedroom the storm outside has dulled to a simple drizzle and her chest floods with relief. He’s there. And not in the sleeping bag, either. He’s on their bed, curled up to face the wall, and his face is pale. 

Sarah ignores her bathroom routine and crawls onto the bed beside him. He hasn’t re-attached his arm. She saw it in the den, earlier, tucked away behind the cushions on the daybed he used to use.

She takes a deep breath. She’s spent most of the evening trying to detangle between her residual emotions from the Jonah Day and the very real thing that happened downstairs. She sat in the tub for twenty minutes thinking about what words she wanted to use. 

Bucky beats her to it.

“Has it,” he starts, sounding miserable. “Your -- your arm.”

Sarah doesn’t want to lie. “It’s ...”

“Jesus,” he whispers, this awful undertone of disgust weighing it down into the bed.

“I was going to say it probably won’t even bruise.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. She wonders if he hasn’t reached out to check the wrist himself because he’s scared of himself, or if he’s scared she will be.

“I’m sorry for not being more careful earlier,” Sarah says after a long moment, looking at her toes. They’re in desperate need of a pedicure. “For – yelling. Being rough. I should have been more aware of my surroundings.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she hears, delivered into the bedspread. 

They have two spreads on this bed. One Sarah has had for always – it’s quilted, with small squares of yellow and blue, and small stitched flowers that Sarah’s grandmother said were meant to bring a sense of safety into a bedroom. The other is red – burgundy pattern bursts, even a bit of purple. The material is thicker-woven and heavier and very new, and bought after much careful consideration (and her own encouragement that he get something he liked) from one of Bucky’s favourite vendors a few months ago. She knows it is called a kitenge and loves that it is on her bed.

“B,” Sarah says finally. “If I’m an adult I’m responsible for how I behave when I know certain things about others. You have to –” she fists her hands into the sheets, searches for the right thing beneath the tension in her throat, “respect that. Respect me by acknowledging that.”

There’s a long moment of quiet. 

“Thank you for apologizing,” Bucky says softly. Then, after another long pause, “I’m sorry for not telling you how – how bad I was feeling. And for scaring you after. And for ... fuck. Sarah. I’m so sorry.”

Sarah swallows around her dry tongue.

“I know. You still feeling rough?”

“A little. My head got really loud and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Because of last week’s thing.”

Sarah doesn’t like calling them missions. Sam says she doesn’t want to give ‘em the dignity of a proper name lest they end up having power over her life.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” 

“Did you call –”

She can’t see his face but she can perfectly imagine the way his eyes scrunch shut on a frown. “Didn’t realize it was bad until it was … bad. Thought I could work through it yesterday. With – routines.”

“The tea,” Sarah realizes. Simultaneously she feels heartbreak and a keen sense of frustration. She should have noticed, she thinks. Then again, the plain reality is that she will have her own bad days, and she is only human. Also, she very much knows the desire to prove you haven’t mistaken your newfound ability to control. Still, still, still – 

“Just, since then,” she starts.

“I called Dr. Naimi while you were in the shower,” he says quietly. 

It’s been about a month with her, so Sarah would have been ready to understand if he didn’t at all. Just barely, but ready. Sarah likes Dr. Naimi and Dr. Naimi likes Sarah. Trauma specialist is an added perk of her proximity to them, and Sarah’s cheerful memories of LSU.

Sarah lets out a long exhale through her mouth. She can see his right hand where it’s curled up by his stomach. He’s put bandaids over the cuts from the ceramic. She knows he doesn’t need them – those cuts would’ve self-sealed within fifteen minutes – so she is left wondering if the decision was made for the boys’ sake, or maybe hers, or even his own. Easy not to think about something if the evidence is covered up and away. Sarah rubs at her eyes, which are dry and gritty from her earlier cry.

In a sense she’s stalling the instinct to reach out to him because the back of her brain is still working through the newer, more temporary instinct that’s appeared. But she does need to change. Bucky is already in his sleep clothes, faded grey sweatpants that he’s wearing holes into and that garishly orange t-shirt memorializing Cass’s first grade Lion King play. Sarah leaves the bed. She brushes her teeth, wraps up her hair, wipes her face. She comes back into the bedroom and shimmies out of her jeans, then bypasses her usual tank top for the navy blue t-shirt folded neatly at the top of his drawer. The shoulders hit halfway down her biceps. She crawls back onto the bed, in front of him this time.

Bucky’s still wide awake.

“You gonna stay awake all night?” she asks.

“No.”

“Promise?”

She watches him touch his tongue to his bottom lip, which is looking raw, like he’s been doing that all night. He trembles on the inhale. “I’m better,” he repeats. “I’ll do some – um, those exercises before bed. Forgot to do ‘em last night, I was real tired I guess.”

This bedroom’s good for those – it’s got so much stuff in it, and sentimental stuff too, he can go through picking out things he can see and what they’re made of and how they feel to touch and lull himself to sleep like that. Sometimes he does it teasingly and lists what she is wearing while he takes it off. 

His eyes have cast down, a very deliberate avoidance of hers. Swallowing against her own mind she scootches forward and lies down in front of him. Then she pulls at his shoulder – firm, but with gentle hands. 

“Sarah,” muffled, into the pillow.

“Need you to hold me.”

“You don’t have to –”

“For me. For me, James.”

He relents, balancing on the ball of his empty shoulder, and smoothes his free hand over her arm and around her back to pull her towards him. His fingers, which are so familiar to her by now, splay open between her shoulder blades. They don't tremble, but they’re very careful. Sarah has to work hard not to notice. Still, he ends up half covering her. She lets her tender wrist lay gingerly against her collarbone in the hollow between their chests and breathes in and out in long steadying breaths. Where their bodies touch (at her hip, her cheek, where his shoulder digs into her breast) the pressure is just minutely too much but enough for Sarah’s purposes. She winds one arm around him, tangles their legs together, closes her eyes, and wills herself through her pounding heart to re-memorize the feeling: the deep-seated thing within herself that’s come to associate his body touching hers with safety and security. 

Sarah doesn’t newly believe herself a fool. Reality coexists with her convictions and they’ll just have to work their way through it. The blankets beneath them are contrasting in their fabrics and soft against the bare skin of Sarah’s neck. 

“I love you,” Bucky whispers. It’s said in the same way she said it earlier. Sarah nods, and holds him tighter.