#i KNEW he’s depressed oh my god i CLOCKED IT I KNOW A MISERABLE SAD MAN WHEN I HEAR ONE

[sacred-algae]

Nights Like These

It's no secret that Todd is bad at feelings. Bad at expressing them, bad at handling them. Really bad at handling them. Because Dirk has a boyfriend. A boyfriend who isn't Todd. And it tears him apart. All he ever feels any more is hopelessness. And tonight was no different. Until it was. It was about to be VERY different.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,851

       It was nights like these where Todd didn’t like to think. He wished he was incapable of thinking. Screw that, he wished he didn’t love him. 

       He’d never been in love before and oh how he wishes he wasn’t right now. 

       Because this sucked. It hurt like hell. 

       Having to see him every day. See his beautiful smile and perfect eyes and know that he didn’t love him back.

       Being in love with Dirk was one thing a month ago. 

       He always knew he liked him, well, not always, but when he realized he was in love with him… That was another story. 

       He felt like he was walking on air when he realized it. He realized how lucky he was to have him in his life and how happy he made him.

       He even started flirting with him, to no avail but he still did.

       And it felt right. One day he would get the courage to ask him out. 

        But before that day came… the worst day of his life came. 

       He got a boyfriend.

       A boyfriend that wasn’t Todd.

       And ever since then it’s been “Brett this, Brett that,” and he wanted to punch that bastard right in the nose!

       … But he made Dirk happy. And so Todd was happy if he was happy.

       Scratch that. Todd was very unhappy. 

       He wanted to die every time Brett kissed Dirk, he wanted to cry every time he saw them holding hands, he wanted to punch the wall when he heard the exchange of pet-names, he wanted to scream every time smiled at his phone after getting a text from him.

       He was miserable. He had gone from being depressed before Dirk to being the happiest in his life to being happier to being even more depressed and it was horrible.

        So yes, he thought about this every night. What made this night worse than the other nights, what made this night “nights like these”?

       It was date night. 

       The night of the week where he wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. 

       So he did. 

       And he sobbed.

        And to make matters worse, his episodes have always been more emotionally fueled so “date night” was always a reliable alarm clock for his body to betray him. 

       And to make matters even worse, it was their one month anniversary, and Dirk was all excited about their big date.

       So he had to buckle up for a long, sleepless, painful, night.

        And his first attack of the night was over.

       He sat on the bathroom floor, huddled in the corner between the sink cabinet and the wall, shaking violently as his post-attack nerves calmed down. Breathing heavily as tears streamed down his hot face, head whirring.

       And it was only 10:00.

        It was only 10:00 when he heard a knock on his door. 

        Stumbling, he stood up and wiped his eyes on his flannel sleeve as he approached the door.

       And he was ready to kill a bitch when he saw who was on the other side of the door, sobbing.

       “Oh my god, Dirk what happened? Are you ok?” 

       He flung himself into Todd’s arms. “He pulled a Warner, Todd,” he choked between tears.

       “He pulled a what?” Todd stood flabbergasted, not quite sure on whether or not he should return the hug, but then he did, Dirk needed him.

       “Like that musical, Pink Lawyer.”

       “Oh, you mean Legally Blonde? And that was a movie before it was a musical.”

       “But I like the musical better. I like the song 'Gay or European', it's like a song about me.”

       “Whatever you say, Dirk. What happened, what do you mean he pulled a Warner?” And then it hit him, “Oh my god, he didn’t!”

       “Mmhmm,” Dirk gave a sad, affirmative hum and nodded into Todd’s shoulder.

       “On your anniversary?! THAT DICK!”

       Dirk laughed slightly.

       “What-” Todd wasn’t good at this, in fact, he was very bad at this. “What do you need?”

       Dirk pulled back and looked at Todd confused. His eyes red, swollen, and glossy. He hated seeing him like this. He wanted to hold him until the end of time and make sure he was never upset again. The things he was going to say to Brett- but he needed to focus on Dirk right now.

       “I mean, you came to me for a reason, right? What do you need?”

       He stood silent for a moment, not really understanding the question. In all honesty, his brain couldn’t process much at the moment. “Right, why I’m here, um, yes! I-” he sighed, “I don’t know. Universe said I should come here.”

       Damn you universe,  Todd thought. 

       “Ok.” His mind shuffled around the possible answers to this. In the past he would have made some flirty joke like, “oh, the universe wanted you to be here, huh?” or something or other but he wasn’t past Todd. He was present Todd and he would be there for Dirk. And he doubted the universe actually wanted that to be honest. He would always just be friends with Dirk. Hopelessly and endlessly. “Come in then, want to talk?”

       “Maybe,” he sniffed as he walked in. “I don’t know. I just want to be here.” He paused for a moment. “Do you have any tea?”

       Todd smiled, “Always.” He walked over to the kitchenette and dug through the pantries as Dirk sat down. “What type?”

       Dirk beamed, “You have more than one type? You don’t even like tea.”

       Todd had started keeping tea around in case of situations like these. Not break-ups specifically, he hadn’t planned for those, but any situation where Dirk needed some comfort. And he didn’t know what Dirk preferred so he just bought a lot of different types.

       “Yeah, what type?”

       “I don’t know. Do you have lemon? Sour tea to fit my sour mood.” He sunk into the sofa. 

       “Don’t be like that, Dirk.” He heated up a mug of water in the microwave, receiving a wince from Dirk but he was just happy Todd was trying. “I’m assuming you want milk and sugar in it?”

       “Yes, please.” Todd chuckled. 

       He put the teabag in the mug and grabbed the milk carton, a spoon, and the sugar and clumsily carried it all back to the couch. 

       “Thank you, Todd.” He smiled through his pooling grey-blue eyes.

       They sat like that for a while. Staring at the wall. A million thoughts flooding through their heads.

       The main one in Todd’s head? He was going to fucking kill Brett. He should have fucking known, with a name like Brett. And his stupid books, and his stupid sweater vests, and his stupid perfect hair, and his stupid collection of snobby tea. Now that he thinks about it he was really perfect for Dirk, Dirk didn’t want some punk-reject. He wanted an elegant refined man, not a scrumpy hobbit asshole of a man. NO! Brett was a dick. An absolute dick and he hurt Dirk. No one hurts Dirk on Todd’s watch. Not unless they want to get killed. 

       It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it. He could blame it on a holistic situation next case. Yes, brilliant. He would find some way to drag him into it push him into the danger. It was perfect, foolproof, and oh my fucking god was he really plotting a murder right now? He needed to focus on Dirk. Who had just started crying again, oh god he was bad at this. 

       Todd looked over to him. He sat rigidly. The warm mug in his hands, somewhat of a grounding stim, his head tucked into his chest as his tears fell. 

       He cleared his throat and nervously spoke up. “Need to talk about it? Sometimes venting helps.”

       Dirk bit his lip and wordlessly nodded before turning to Todd.

       “It was a stupid reason, really,” he sniffled.

       “Any reason to break up with someone as amazing as you is stupid in my books.” Dirk smiled. Smiling was good.

       “No. There are plenty of good reasons. I’m annoying, I talk too much, I’m dangerous, I’m an idiotic fool-”

       “Stop with all the negative talk,” Todd said sternly.

       “But it really was a stupidly stupid reason. I… I was telling him the story of our cases-”

       “Ooo which one?”

       “The Coconut Caper.” He set the mug down on the coffee table with the rest of the stuff Todd had brought out.

       “That was a fun one,” They laughed for a moment reminiscing on it. The Coconut Caper was one of their more… well… heated cases. There was a lot of tension there on both their parts, but both of them only recognized his own feelings and was completely oblivious as to the other’s.

       “So I was telling him the story and out of nowhere, he got mad! He said… he said he was tired of hearing about you.”

       What?

       “That it’s always ‘Todd, this and Todd, that’ and he was sick of it. And- and,” he stuttered to get the words out. “And said he was sick of it, and that it was all I ever talked about and- and,” He fell into Todd’s shoulder, covering his face with his hands. Regretting what he was about to say before he even said it, but Todd asked so he would say it. He would play it off as if it wasn’t true. “He said he thought I was in love with you… and then he dumped me!”

       A question burned into the back of Todd’s mind. A question he knew he shouldn’t ask for fear of losing everything, and pushing Dirk farther than he needed tonight... But the question remained, it refused to leave. It wasn’t going to go away unless he asked. 

       So Todd made the rash decision to ask said question, a decision he knew as the sentence formed out of his mouth he would later regret as he already knew the answer but something told him he didn’t know the full truth. He needed the full truth. He needed all of it. 

       And so he asked the question.

       “Dirk, do you love me?” His voice shook like the after-shock in a house seated across the street from a quarry. His face burning hot, his own eyes filling with salty betrayal. 

       “Uh-buh-buh-buh,” He sat up abruptly, straightening himself out, his mouth flapped like a fish. “What an odd question, Todd.” Dirk sat back up with a very bad look of hiding the truth. Todd almost let the corners of his mouth upturn. He thought he knew the answer, and he thought it might be the one he wanted after all of this time. 

       “Dirk, answer the question.” His voice slowly losing its tough persona.

       “You see, it’s a very complex answer, that question, Todd.”

       “Answer the goddamn question!”

       “Ok fine. You want the truth? Here’s the truth! I’m in love with you... I always have been but I know you don’t love me and so that’s why I started dating Brett.” 

       “Dirk-” His voice even softer now, a pang in his chest, heartbreaking at the thought of Dirk not knowing and feeling the way he did, knowing Dirk felt all of the pain Todd did.

       “LET ME FINISH. I thought if I dated someone else I would forget about you and stop loving you but the truth is I can’t.” He started crying, again. “I can’t forget you. I can’t, Todd. I’m sorry-”

       “Dirk-” More insistent.

       “SHUT UP FOR ONE BLOODY FUCKING MINUTE AND LET ME FUCKING GET THIS OVER WITH BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKING HARD!” Woah. He shouted at the top of his lungs before returning to normal, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Half apologizing for freaking out and half apologizing for his feelings. “I am. I can’t help it, I can’t help that I love you but I do.”

       He sped up almost incoherently, vomiting out words, not caring if he was repeating himself or saying things that didn’t make sense. Let him choose his words and tone for this ok? Like he said, this was hard. “Just promise me, promise me you won’t leave because I don’t think I could take it because honestly you saved my life in so many ways not only physical and I couldn’t bear if you left so promise me you won't leave and I don’t care if you aren’t my best friend anymore just don’t drop off the face of the earth and promise me-”

       “Dirk-”

       “SHUT UP, TODD.”

       “I LOVE YOU!”

        Dirk jolted back, not quite sure if he heard Todd right. If his mind was playing tricks on him, if Todd was playing tricks on him.

       “Oh, now you’re just being cruel.” His voice accusatory.

       “No, I do!” His voice defensive.

       “You’re just saying that to shut me up. Because I’m annoying and stupid and-”

       “What did I say about saying that about yourself?” 

       “Not to.” He pouted, “But you don’t. I think I would have figured that out by now.”

       “I didn’t figure it out”

       “Yes, but you’re just saying that. How do I know you love me?”

       Todd smiled. The first time he smiled that night. 

        “Because I do. Because you changed me. You made me a better person. And my life was boring before I knew you. And it sucked. And I know that doesn’t mean much but this does. And I wish you could see yourself like I do. The amazing, kind, wonderfully-crazy, funny and, not going to lie, sexy man you are.” Dirk chuckled and hid his face. “I want you to know that you make my life better. You give me a meaning and purpose I didn’t have before. You make me happy, Dirk. You make me so happy. And I hope that’s enough for you to know that I do love you and I’m not just ‘saying it’.”

        “I’m sorry, Todd.” He looked up, holding back more tears. This was a night very much filled with tears.

       Todd shook his head confused, “For what?”

       “For yelling, and assuming you were lying.”

       “Nah, I get it. I’m an asshole. I wouldn’t believe me either.”

       “Ok, if I’m not allowed to say I’m stupid and annoying you  definitely  aren’t allowed to call yourself an asshole. We both know how I feel about you calling yourself that.”

       “Ok, how about dickhead?” He laughed and Dirk playfully shoved him. 

       “That might be worse.”

       All of the anxiety was slowly wearing off, and it left them in a quiet moment. 

       A very quiet moment.

       Too quiet.

       They stared at each other, smiling. Heat rising to their faces, ok maybe they were just too angry and sad to notice it earlier but they were both made suddenly aware of their red faces. 

       “God, this is awkward,” Dirk mumbled as he twiddled with his thumbs. 

       “Yep,” Todd replied.

       Silent again. 

       How did they manage that?

       And then Dirk realized something. 

       Something big.

       His eyes widened and Todd immediately recognized the expression. Dirk had figured something out. Something holistic.

       And before Todd had any time to respond. Any time to process…

        Dirk’s mouth was on his.

        He leapt forward, not thinking, much like he did with everything in his life. He never thought. Ever. It was quite relaxing actually. 

       Unaware of his brute force, that combined with Todd’s shock had sent them spiraling backwards into the couch. Todd’s eyes wide.

       And all he could think, well, no, he couldn’t think. All he could  feel  was, “Oh my god this is actually happening! Is this happening? It better be fucking happening, and holy shit his lips are soft- ” Soft despite the fact that the kiss was awkwardly aggressive and very quick. It all happened in about a second. One second before Dirk realized what he had done.

       He pulled back extremely suddenly, but still hovering over Todd as the couch swallowed him whole, cheeks fire-engine red, spilling out his words in a perfectly Dirk-y way. 

       “Oh-my-god-I’m-so-sorry-I-didn't-ask-first-and-I-didn't-think-and-I-just-did-and-did-I-just-mess-up-did-I-misjudge-the-situation-I’m-so-stupid-and-oh-no-am-I-squishing-you?!”

       And Todd just smiled and grabbed the sides of his jacket, pulling his face back down to his, and he kissed him. This time properly. 

       And Dirk melted at the touch. This was nothing like kissing Brett, this felt right, safe, home. Like the entire universe had been preparing for this moment. 

       It started soft and slow, meant to show Dirk how much he meant everything he said, how much he loved him. And then he started to realize that it was finally happening, and he hungered for more, and Dirk obliged, sending their kiss deeper and deeper. Fully enveloping themselves in each other, in this perfect kiss, this perfect moment. This moment where everything was as it was supposed to be for once. 

       All they could think of was each other and how for the love of God had they not done this sooner.

       Breathless, Todd pulled back and moved his arms around Dirk’s neck, and looked fondly into his eyes.

       “I-I think… I think I know why the universe wanted me to come here.” Dirk breathed with a wide smile brandishing his swollen, pink lips.

       Todd laughed, “You think?”

[backtothestart02]

Hazy - 4/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Angst city. Enjoy! lol.

Commissioned by @jennlee44

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 4 -

Two days later, and Barry still had no clue how to get out of Iris’ proposed arrangement.

Date someone else? No way. Even pretending to date someone that wasn’t Iris was out of the question. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. He wasn’t over Iris, and it would be so unfair to whoever was “dating” him to act like he was. Besides, in his reality he was Iris’ fiancé. It felt like cheating on her to even think of someone else in that way. He wasn’t physically or emotionally capable of it.

Holding hands? Cuddling? Kissing? Making love?

He was squeamish just at the thought of any of those.

No. He couldn’t do it, and he wouldn’t. No amount of tears on Iris’ part could make him, as much as he hated to see her cry.

He turned to look at the clock and saw it was nearing his lunch break. One more case to go through and he’d let himself get out of CCPD for the next half hour. Forever fearing he’d run into Eddie or Iris made his workspace a war zone the past few days. His only comfort was Joe texting him when he and Eddie were going out into the field, so that he knew it was safe to make his escape.

He’d made the mistake of not waiting for a text the day before and caught Iris and Eddie in a loving embrace at Eddie’s desk. Apparently, all had been forgiven and they were a happy couple once more. Luckily, Eddie’s back had been facing him. Unluckily, that made Iris’ eyes meet his in a surprised and curious gaze. He quickly turned away and headed for the elevator, but her eyes were still watching him until the doors closed.

It was just a matter of time before Iris confronted him again, and he couldn’t figure out how to respond. Burst out that he was in love with her? That he would never date someone else? Accuse her of torturing him by asking him to do something he didn’t have it in him to do?

He didn’t know. But what he did know was that the sound of high heels were coming towards him down the hall merely seconds later, and he was too caught up in his own head to recognize them.

The knock on the door frame jolted him to her presence.

“Knock, knock,” she said.

His phone vibrated on his desk, and with a single glance Barry saw it was from Joe. He and Eddie had left.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she continued, walking into the room.

“I’ve been working,” he said, and she took note on how his pile was half as high as it had been two days ago.

“Your bruise looks to have healed up nicely,” she commented.

“Mhmm.” He quickly categorized the files into two piles and reached for his brown sack lunch.

She came and sat on the edge of his desk in the one spot where there was nothing occupying it.

He sighed, grateful it didn’t come out as a nervous gasp. She was so close.

If he was back in his time, this could easily turn into a steamy situation.

But he wasn’t. Because somehow, he’d ended up here. In a time where maybe Iris secretly had feelings for him, but she was married to Eddie, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do to change that.

“What are you doing here, Iris?”

“I came to check up on my best friend,” she said matter-of-factly.

“But I’m not your best friend,” he said, standing up. “I’m not anything to you.”

He saw that hurt her, but he wouldn’t let himself get affected. He walked past her and towards the exit.

“And whose fault is that?” she asked bitterly.

He stopped, his teeth grinding against each other as his hand clenched around the door frame.

Before he could spit some repulsive thing in response though, she was quick to come to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know you don’t like the situation any more than I do.”

He turned around. “So why are you pushing someone else at me when I’m not…ready?”

“It’s been a year, Barry.”

“It’s been 17, Iris.”

Her face fell, downcast.

“So, you still…?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Her shoulders slumped, and then her sad face turned angry.

“Well, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“The same thing you did before, I guess,” he snapped. “Cut me out of your life.”

“That’s not what I wanted! I-” She stopped, realizing she’d said too much.

Dots started to connect in Barry’s head.

“What do you mean that’s not…?”

She sighed, her face downcast again.

“After what happened at the reception, he said you or him.”

His eyes widened. “And you picked him.” His hurt could not be concealed.

“I’d just married him, Barry. I promised him my life, through thick and thin, sickness and health, good times and bad. I…I had to.”

“But I was your best friend, Iris!”

She took a step back.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me. Then none of this would have happened.”

“I was probably drunk,” he said.

“You were! Which made it even worse. You were Eddie’s best man, for crying out loud.”

Oh, God. He was? He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Let me guess, you don’t remember that either.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I’m going to leave now, go on my lunch break. Don’t be here when I come back.”

Her jaw dropped, her eyes filling with tears. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to take it all back. But he had to get her to leave. He couldn’t give her what she wanted, and he couldn’t stand to have her so close and not really have her.

“You could apologize to Eddie!” She called after him. “You’ve never done that either.” She scoffed, then softened. “That might work.”

He stopped again and turned around.

“Iris…” He sighed. “I don’t know if I want to be your friend right now.”

She took a step back, shocked to her core.

He turned away finally and made his way down the hall to the elevator, fighting to get Iris West-Thawne out of his head. She wasn’t his, and he needed to stop pretending she was. At least in this timeline.

…

That night, Barry decided to go out to a bar and get drunk. He also wanted to be entertained, so he went to the same karaoke bar he had with Caitlin back in the timeline he knew when they were both miserable and pining over people they couldn’t have.

Big mistake.

He spotted Caitlin and Ronnie at a table off to the side, and within five minutes of being there, Ronnie had dragged her up onto the stage to sing “Summer Lovin’.” Caitlin wasn’t drunk this time and was instead very nervous. Barry was amused. If only she knew…

And if only he could talk to her, ask for her advice. She had always been such a good listener when he needed to vent about Iris. And Cisco was a great distraction. He could get Iris out of his head like no one else could when he just needed a break from the drama and angst and heartbreak.

He missed their friendship. He missed having a friend. It was just depressing being in this timeline, considering that the only person he really had was Joe. And as great as Joe was, he always knew what was on Barry’s mind, and he couldn’t fix it either. Plus, there was just something about someone your own age having your back.

He turned away from the off-pitch pair onstage and paid for a beer at the bar.

Iris hadn’t been in the lab or even at CCPD when he’d returned from his lunch break. He’d meant what he said at the time, that he didn’t want to be friends – because he wanted to be more than that, and that he didn’t want her there – because he needed space from her accusations and pleading requests.

But he missed her all the same. It was hard to finish his work for the day because he couldn’t get her out of his head. And for all his trying, he couldn’t help believing that they belonged together. Not just if Eddie had died and not just if he’d told her how he felt about her sooner, but every timeline, every version of reality, they all resulted in Iris changing her name to West-Allen. Always.

He refused to believe this one was any different.

“Barry Allen,” a nearby voice announced with flair.

He quickly turned to see who the mischievous voice belonged to, though he’d be a fool not to remember her. She was impossible to forget.

“Linda?”

“You remember me,” she sassed. “Fantastic.”

She took a seat next to him at the bar and lured the bartender over.

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

The man handed her a beer, and she quickly paid for it.

“So, what brings you to these parts?” she asked, sidling close. It didn’t make him uncomfortable, but it did make him wonder if she was just a little bit tipsy. “Karaoke doesn’t really seem like your scene.”

“And what is my scene?” he asked, hoping to put some clues together of what exactly his relationship had been to Linda Park in this timeline.

“Anywhere Iris is, probably,” she muttered into her bottle.

Barry blushed. “Iris and I aren’t on speaking terms right now.”

“Oh, I know,” she informed him. “I used to see your pretty face in CCPN almost every day, but for the past year, poof! It’s like you never existed. I know why too.”

“Then you know why I’m not where Iris is right now.”

“I invited her to come out with me tonight,” she told him. “You would’ve been right on track with my suspicions if she’d said yes.”

“Well, I’m glad she didn’t.”

Linda looked at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”

“You’re friends with Iris. Don’t you know?”

“Eddie?”

He nodded and took another sip of his drink.

“Yep.” He popped his lips.

“Still…you guys have been friends for years,” she continued. “I didn’t think her getting married would change that, even given the stunt you pulled.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

The silence lingered, and he gawked when she looked to still be waiting for a response.

“Didn’t she tell you? Eddie told her to choose between the two of us, and she chose him. So now we can’t be seen together, or it’ll cause problems in their marriage. The end.”

Linda’s eyes widened.

“No.”

He turned to face her.

“She didn’t tell me that.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t tell me either until today.”

“I’m sorry, Barry,” she said softly. “I didn’t think she’d give you up so easily.”

He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it was. Easy for her, I mean. But that still doesn’t change the fact that she did it. Or the…bizarre thing she’s asked me to do so we can openly be friends again.”

“Oh? I’m intrigued.”

He snorted.

“Come on, tell a girl. You know I’ll never hear it from Iris.”

He sighed. “She wants me to date someone else to convince Eddie I’m over her. So he won’t feel threatened or like I’m trying to steal his wife.”

“And are you?”

“Am I a threat?” He shrugged. “Maybe. There’s no chance in Hell I’m getting over her. That makes me threat enough, probably.”

Linda licked her lips.

“I might have a solution for you.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

“Well, it just so happens that recently Scott, our editor at CCPN, and I had a little…one-night stand.”

“Oh, Linda.” His nose scrunched up. “I did not need to know tha-”

“Shut up. I’m not done yet.” She laughed.

“Please…proceed.” He gestured for her to continue, his face still scrunched.

“Thank you.” She took a swig of her drink. “Let’s just say, I don’t want it to end that way. Or at all.”

“You like him.”

She set her chin in the palm of her hand.

“He’s attractive as hell,” she confirmed. “But uh…up here too.” She pointed to her head. “Not just-”

“I think I got the picture,” he said dryly.

“There’s more between us. I can feel it. And Iris…she has feelings for you, Barry. It’s why I never asked you out. I always thought you two were kind of inevitable.”

He sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

“Listen.” She set her hand on his arm. “Iris is loyal to a fault. She takes her wedding vows very seriously. But the two of you have been friends since way before Eddie came along. That should mean something.”

“I thought it did.”

“Take me out,” she said, straightening in her seat.

“What? No. Linda, I can’t-”

“Relax, it’s all pretend. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, and privately we won’t do a thing. Let’s just show Iris and Scott what they’re missing out on.”

He hesitated. “You’re sure Scott doesn’t want more because he’s…hung up on someone else?” Like, Iris?

Her brows furrowed. “And who would that someone else be? Iris?”

She read him so well. She always had.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Even if that’s true,” she allowed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t change his mind. That doesn’t mean we,” She gestured between them, “can’t make both of them jealous.”

He stared at her for a long while before laying out his requirements.

“I don’t want to hold hands or cuddle or kiss.”

She smirked, amused.

“Can you put your arm around me?”

He blinked, having not thought of that.

“I…”

“Loop our arms together?”

“Well…”

“Pretend to whisper something flirtatious in my ear when Iris or Scott are watching?” She paused. “I’ll giggle to make it convincing.”

She leaned in.

“There are plenty of subtle ways to show we’re in a relationship, Barry Allen.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “So, are you in or are you out?”

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[ttooccaa]

Seeing the Ups and Downs

I just wrote a Soulmate AU bartuardo fic! I hope somebody likes it.

It’s under the cut. Here’s the Ao3 link as well.

Summary: Almost everybody gets a tattoo (or tattoos in some cases; also known as soulmarks), either when they are born or when their soulmate’s born, that represent their soulmate(s), the tattoo is just an outline, until the soulmate is met, afterwards it fills itself with colour.

That’s great and all, but Ed has never had one and just as he’s accepted that he’s probably never going to get one, it happens, problem is it’s 14 years too late, he’s been kidnapped by aliens, so he’s still unconscious and has no idea he even got one. On the upside, he might die long before he has to meet them and deal with everything so that’s… just peachy.

Santa Fe

December 14, 22:45 GMT-3

Ed had just officially ran away from home, it was surprisingly easy, he just had to wait for his abuelo to fall asleep in front of the TV, Ed had gotten really good at sneaking out, practice made perfect as the people say.

He had ran away before, but it was never serious and the police always found him anyways, but this time was different, it felt different. Honestly, he still didn’t know if it was real or not, as of right now he had one goal, get to America (and his father?) without being caught by the police.

Well, first stop, the bus station.

As he was walking through the dark streets, barely lit by the street lights, he once again thought how lucky he was not to have a soulmate. He had just recently convinced himself it was  something good, before he was sad, sure that he simply didn’t deserve one, that he was not worth it, but after seeing how restricting it was to have one, Ed started thanking his lucky star he was born without a tattoo. He was free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted without caring if somebody might or might not be upset. It was also lonely, but recently he has really been trying to see the bright side of things.

Downside: I will probably be alone and lonely my whole life.

Upside: I am free.

Porto Velho

January 21, 20:16 GMT- 4

Ed was quietly sitting on the ground in an old, decrepit building, surrounded by other runaways and homeless people. He was eating a very stale and disgusting sandwich from a local gas station, while listening to other people talk or at least trying to, Portuguese was definitely not his forte, good thing their group was a mixed one and most everybody either knew spanish or english.

The person next to him moved and a guy took his place. “Hey!”

“What’s up, Lucas?” He greeted, mouth full with bread.

Lucas was one of the few people Ed had met while in this city, Lucas was older, twenty something, really skinny and tall, dirty blonde hair and a lot of small and medium sized scars all over his body, a few on his face. He was a nice enough guy, but really sad, he tried to hide it, but he couldn’t, Ed had seen him go into his depressive state once and it was more than enough. From what he heard it happened often.

They stayed in silence, until Lucas broke it “Have you met your soulmate, Edu?”

The Argentinian swallowed the last of the sandwich and answered “Don’t have one.”

Lucas nodded his head “So you’re one of those people.” He smiled gently, his gaze far away.

“What about you?”

“Oh, yeah.” His smile grew and his eyes started to glisten.

The silence stretched for a bit, until Lucas continued “She was perfect, god, I would’ve done anything for her, I did do everything I could and more for her. She was beautiful and smart and absolutely perfect.” He was still smiling, though tears were forming in his eyes.

Ed has started to feel uncomfortable, but his curiosity got the better of him “What happened? If… ugh… you know, you want to tell me…” He was blushing a bit.

Lucas nodded his head “Don’t worry, it’s not like it’s a secret. She left me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Hahha, not like that! I meant, she just left me, for another, said I wasn’t good enough for her and she was right, you know, I really wasn’t, still am not, now more so than ever.” Tears were slowly rolling down his cheeks, he looked like he was no longer in the room mentally. He probably wasn’t, relieving the good ol’ times he had with his soulmate. Lucas spoke up once again “Only reason, I’m still here, I hope she will take me in one day.”

Ed was shocked, he had heard of soulmates leaving before, but he mostly thought that they stayed together, no matter what. He had always thought that your soulmate was your perfect person, the one always here for you, the only one you can truly trust with everything, turns out he was wrong… very wrong.

Downside: I’m still going to be alone and lonely my whole life.

Upside: I will never have an abusive psycho for a soulmate.

Mitú

February 10, 23:01 GMT-5

The Argentinian had just arrived in the city, thanks to a bit of hitchhiking and a lot of walking, being on the run was exhausting and miserable…

He walked through the streets, the only thing he wanted was to find a somewhat safe spot and just crash over there and fall asleep. It’s not like he was afraid of somebody stealing his things, he didn’t have anything valuable left. Also no money, but right now that really wasn’t current Ed’s problem.

Just as he was considering passing out on a street corner and hoping for the best, he saw it, a bench! But not just any bench one in a secluded but still pretty lit part of the park in front of him. Ed gathered whatever strength he had left and walked to it. He took a blanket out of his backpack and laid down on the bench, his skateboard against his back and the backpack a pillow. He quickly felt sleep overtake him.

It felt barely like minutes had passed, but suddenly he was being woken up by a hand over his mouth and strong arms wrapping around him, he barely had time to register what was happening to him, yet alone panic as he lost consciousness once again.

Downside: I got kidnapped.

Upside: I (most likely) will not live long enough to be alone and lonely my whole life.

Taos

April 1, 18:15 MDT

Now Ed felt like even more of a freak, not only was he one of the few thousand people without a soulmate, but he also had weird, superpowers thanks to a gene inside his body… because aliens. He didn’t think his life could get any worse, at times like these he almost regretted running away from home.

Ed did, in a way, reach his goal - he was in America and with his father. He had forgotten just what a hoot his dad was, but Senior quickly reminded him by throwing his only son inside STAR labs like a lab rat.

He was walking towards one of the changing rooms at STAR labs, it wasn’t enough that aliens had experimented on him and the other abductees, apparently his dad also wanted to take a stab at it

Ed rounded a corner and opened the door of what he hoped was a changing room, he also hoped he would be alone, but no such luck was found. He opened the door, while Virgil was mid tacking his pants off.

Ed quickly started to close the door “Sorry, dude, I’ll leave you be.”

Virgil quickly recovered “Nah, it’s cool.”

The Argentinian went inside and opened one of the lockers, all of them contained the same white jumpsuits.

He took his vest off, then his scarf and finally his T-shirt. He started unzipping the jumpsuit.

“Damn, dude, cool soulmark.” Virgil whistled.

Ed looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time “What…?”

The other teen rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly uncomfortable “Well, ugh, you know, the thing on your back, unless it’s just a tattoo, than cool tattoo, but aren’t we a bit young for tattoos, I-I mean you do you… hahha.” Virgil was bright red and rambling.

“Calm down. Look, I don’t know if this some kind of American humour I don’t understand, but I don’t have a soulmate and therefore a soulmark. Whatever you’re talking about was probably a parting gift by the Reach.” Ed was trying to reason, feeling a little nervous, like he had ever since he’d been freed from the Justice League and been able to form more coherent thoughts than ‘Everything hurts.’

He tried to deny to himself over and over again the weird itch he’d been having on his back, hasn’t even looked at it, scared at what might be or might not be there.

Virgil looked thoughtful for a second “I’m not an expert, but it sure looks like a soulmark to me. Wait, I’ll take a picture, so you can see it.” He took his phone out and snapped a picture, before even Ed realised what was happening.

The phone was suddenly in front of his face and there it was right in the middle of his shoulder blades… a round clock? He took the phone from Virgil and zoomed in on it. It was a clock alright, but missing both of his handles, in the middle of it was a big lightning bolt, almost like the one the Flash had on his costume. He started at it for several minutes straight, then even tried to twist his head around to see it.

Ed threw the phone back at Virgil, who caught it while panicking a bit and dashed to one of the bathroom mirrors. Ed turned around and then twisted his neck uncomfortably and there it was - a clock…

Virgil approached him once again “Hey, man, you feeling good?”

Ed blinked rapidly, overcome with emotion, it was neither a happy or a sad one, tears were forming in the corners of his eyes “I-I… I didn’t think I had one, I don’t how to feel, I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.”

He had started to breath rapidly “First I lived months on the streets, absolutely miserable, then I w-was kidnapped and experimented on by Aliens! Then I got superpowers, and now I have a soulmate tattoo.” Everything was becoming blurry, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.

Virgil rushed in and helped him sit on the cool ground, he helped him with his breathing and Ed slowly started to calm down.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, yeah… thank you.”

Virgil slowly reach out and hugged Ed, the later hugged him back and buried his face in the place between his neck and his shoulder.

Downside(s): I’ll probably never meet him(?), while I’m trapped in START labs and also WHAT KIND OF AN AGE DIFFERENCE IS 14 YEARS?!

Upside: I’m not alone.

The Warworld

May 30, post-03:36 UTC

‘Why did we have to listen to Virgil and come back to save the superheroes or whatever they called themselves?’ Ed thought for the what felt like the hundredth time, while teleporting behind a couple of Reach soldiers and taking them down.

Asami signalled to him in which direction to go ‘Finally, we’re getting out of here.’ He teleported next to her and they took off.

That’s when he saw him or at least felt him run past him, Ed suddenly felt this pressure on his back, his skin felt thigh and sensitive. He was so confused, but decided to chalk it up to the adrenaline from the battle and think about it later.

When the door burst open and Ed saw Nightwing, Miss Martian and a sphere he couldn’t be happier.

Everybody quickly got onto the ship.

Ed couldn’t help but steal a couple glances at this Impulse character, he hadn’t met him, but that’s what the others were calling him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous around the guy, he felt dizzy and like he might throw up. His stomach was in knots, he wanted to talk to him, but something was stopping him.

He sweared he felt Impulse’s eyes on him.

After Nightwing’s dismissal of Arsenal, they were just about ready to leave, but Ed wasn’t so sure, he wanted to leave, but he also wanted to stay, not because of Nightwing and his offer of joining some Justice League for kids thing, but because of the speedster, he felt this pull towards him. But still, he walked through the portal created by the Fatherbox in tow with his friends and Arsenal.

Before that he stole one last glance at the speedster and saw that his eyes were also trained on him.

Downside: My back really itches.

Upside(?): Is it possible for soulmate tattoos to appear late without a reason?

Taos

July 5, 09:37 MDT

Ed was currently once again at Star Labs, this time luckily not as an experiment. After what happened those few months all he wanted to do was lay down somewhere and sleep for as long as humanly (meta-humanly?) possible. But that wasn’t an option, at least not now. He was helping his father move some stuff around and get settled into STAR labs, after it was rebuild.

In the end he had decided to stay with his dad, maybe they will grow closer, maybe they won’t, no matter what happens, he was just happy that everything was over and that getting a citizenship was easier than ever, thanks to being kidnapped by the same aliens the American government trusted before their attack. It was a sort of “Sorry the Reach experimented on, want to not sue us, but instead live here, you illegal immigrant?”

The teen’s mind quickly drifted away and he started focusing on more interesting thoughts, such as the speedster. He still couldn’t explain why the guy wouldn’t get out of his head, he had a speculation, but that was impossible, right?

Just as Ed thought that, a strong gust of wind hit him from behind and Kid Flash was standing right in front of him, though it didn’t quite look like him.

Ed blinked a couple of times “Ugh, hi?”

Kid Flash smiled, a bit awkward “I just wanted to… thank you! You know for freeing us and helping out after.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, yeah I mean, I guess you should be thanking Virgil for the rescue, he insisted.” He cringed at himself ‘Wow, Ed, real smooth.’

Impulse blinked, awkwardness settling between them “Anyways… I’m Impulse! Well Kid Flash now, rebranding.” He said proudly, but full of sadness, while extending his hand towards Ed.

Ed looked at it for a second than took it in his own “I’m Eduardo or just Ed for short.”

The moment he said that and their hands touched Ed felt a burning, yet calming sensation on his back. He flinched and so did the speedster.

Without thinking the Argentinian teleported to the bathroom/locker room close by. He poked his head out of it and signalled for the new Kid Flash to follow him inside.

The brown haired speedster was currently looking at the inside of his left arm, but quickly followed Ed inside.

The stared at each other, neither saying anything.

The Argentinian swallowed and shook his head ‘Dios mío, this is so awkward.’ “So, ugh, there’s no other way to say it, but I’m going to take my shirt of to check something, yeah?” He felt like he might die of pure embarrassment alone, he was bright red and fidgeting awkwardly.

Kid Flash also grew increasingly red with each second “Yeah, of-of course, I’m gonna see something for myself as well.” He nodded once and reached for his left glove.

Ed quickly took his arms out of the T-shirt and left it hanging around his neck. He looked in the large mirror, twisting his neck uncomfortably and that’s when he saw it from the corner of his eye – his soulmark completely filled in. The clock was simply black and white, but the lightning bolt was like a real one, full of oranges and yellows with little sparks flying all around the clock.

His emotions were so mixed up, he was happy, ecstatic even, but also nervous and definitely scared… very sacred.

He put his shirt down and turned towards the superhero, who had taken his glove off and pushed the sleeve of the yellow costume up, exposing his inner arm. There right above the inside of his elbow was a stylised sun – a golden sun, simple, yet very beautiful.

Kid Flash slowly ran his fingers over the tattoo “Wow, I mean - I just –“ tears were gathering in his eyes.

Panic overtook Ed “Hey! Is that from happiness, is something wrong? Are you unhappy? You know I’m also very emotional right now.” He was rambling.

The hero sucked in a big breath, clenched his eyes shut, then exhaled, opened his eyes and looked straight at Ed. He smiled slightly “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Ed also returned the smile, his cheeks growing hotter “So, we good?”

Kid Flash grinned “We good, well I think proper introductions are in order!” He reached for the cowl.

The Argentinian was definitely a bit surprised, he wanted to know his… soulmate’s identity, but he also didn’t want the other teen to be uncomfortable or feel like he was forced to reveal it.

“It’s fine, if you don’t wanna, I mean I’d like to… but you know, if you don’t want to, that’s cool too.” He tried to sound nonchalant, he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

Kid Flash shook his head “If not now, then when?”

He took the cowl off “Name’s Bart Allen!”

Ed studied his face for a bit, he was quite simply, pretty damn attractive, not that it mattered, but it was still a nice touch. He smiled brightly and shook his hand once again “Pleasure to meet you.”

Bart winked “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Ed raised one of his eyebrows, still smiling, his cheeks had a light dusting of pink. Then it hit him, after all of the emotions of meeting his soulmate and confirming it was him, logic had started kicking in once again.

He let go of Bart’s hand “Sorry, I have to ruin the moment, but why did my tattoo appear just a couple months ago? No offence? But you don’t look like a one year old.”

The speedster rubbed the back of his head “Well, if it makes you feel better I was also quite shocked when I came here from the future and suddenly had a soulmark.” He was smiling brightly.

“Wait! The future?”

“Hah, let’s say we have a lot to talk about.”

Ed didn’t mind that at all “How about we have that conversation some place other than the bathroom?”

Downside: I don’t know anything about my soulmate (from the future?) and neither does he about me.

Upside: I am more than happy, that we can do that together.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 234: Tomura Flashbacks and Giganto ex Machia

Previously on BnHA: Re-Destro lost his temper and hulked the fuck out and started breaking off Tomura’s fingers like a goddamn Kit-Kat bar. Elsewhere, (1) Twice cloned Toga in order to give her a blood transfusion, unaware that Skeptic was heading their way; (2) Spinner’s quirk of being a Gecko Man was revealed and he attempted to wall-crawl his way over to Hanabata only to be assailed by a bunch of redshirts fired up by Hanabata’s Trumpet quirk; (3) Dabi continued to battle Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine offscreen (I assume); (4) Compress was also probably doing something but who can be sure; (5) Giran was running off to safety with one of the clone Twices, and finally, (6) Gigantomachia Goron-rolled his way towards the action while Slidin’ Go stood there nervously, probably sensing that his number is coming up on the great cosmic roulette wheel. All of this happened two whole weeks ago because the manga was on break last week! But it’s finally back now, so leeeEET’S geeet ready to rrrruuuuUUUUUUUUMMMMMBLE.

Today on BnHA: RD continues to get handsy with Tomura until Tomura starts to disintegrate one of RD’s own fingers to see how he likes it. He does not, in fact, like it, so he flings Tomura away and starts thinking all of these shocked antagonist thoughts about how Tomura is stronger than he expected and his powers are ~awakening~ and blah blah blah. Meanwhile Tomura hops back onto the Flashback Train to Feels City and recalls how AFO gave him his family’s severed hands to make sure he stayed good and pissed!! And he also remembers more about his sister and how much she loved him! And his mom and grandparents who were also super nice and are now fucking dead and it’s a lot! Horikoshi is pretty fucking ruthless! Anyway so RD decides he’d better go all out and wrap this up, but before he can deliver a killing blow, Gigantomachia finally makes his entrance. At the same moment, Tomura finally remembers “everything” (?? ???!?!?), which, holy fucking shit you guys.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added one or two ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

okay so let’s see what gruesome things are in store for our intrepid villains this week

“destroyed memories” oh? come again? you don’t say?? fancy that?? goodness me???

so is this referring to Tomura? or Dabi? if it’s referring to Re-Destro or one of his gang, I swear to god...! nobody cares about your memories RD. you’re a jerk and you suck

lol what the

aww. is this a “real” in-universe children’s book, is that what this is. did all the lil U.A. dumplings read this when they were small. and was there also a similar book called “don’t judge people by their lack of quirks” and if so why did no one read it to lil baby Kacchan hmm

anyway now we’re cutting right back to this unpleasant image! and not only that, but in the two weeks we’ve been gone things have even escalated!

we’re up to two hands being grabbed now! um. he’s really going to need at least one of those? probably?? please don’t Overhaul my deranged villain son fffff

reminder that Tomura needs to touch something with all five fingers in order for his quirk to activate (or he did before at least), so even though he still has... two...? fingers remaining on his left hand, that hand is still effectively useless as far as quirking goes. so if he suffers even the smallest amount of damage to his right hand as well, it’s basically all over for him. unless he actually was using his quirk with his feet in the previous chapter. I’m assuming not because he presumably would have decayed his way all the way down to the center of the earth if that was the case. I think @khorale mentioned this in a comment on my last recap, but yeah, seeing as the ground’s not disintegrating underneath him, it’s safe to say it’s Hands Only here

anyway I got so caught up in being calmly horrified over the current situation that I didn’t even read the dialogue. so RD’s saying that superpowers are linked to personality, and so that “don’t judge people by their quirks” stuff is in fact bullshit

um, source? are you a psychologist? in general I try to take things with a grain of salt when they’re said by pieces of shit, so yeah

fffffffff noooooo Tomura’s face sob Horikoshi you bastard

he looks so freaking young here. okay, shit. I’m starting to think I need to make plans to unwind after I finish reading this chapter. maybe get an Enya playlist in the works. diffuse some essential oils. find some cute baby animal videos

but on the plus side, it’s looking ever more likely that his are indeed the Destroyed Memories in question omg. so I will continue to get hype while also feeling very guilty and stressed

you guys I’m actually really glad RD is feeling like he has the upper hand now, because he’s starting to waste some valuable time monologuing, and with every second he babbles on, Machia is getting closer and closer to whooping some ass

so he’s asking Tomura what he’s trying to create

and well, actually, he’s not really that far off

I mean. does it count as nothing if he wants to destroy the whole world? one could argue that would be “creating” a new world in which everyone is fucking dead. idk. I might have to give RD this one; his whole point of “quirks are linked to personality and you have a quirk that destroys everything you touch so you probably just want to destroy shit” is holding up surprisingly well to scrutiny thus far

yeah so now he’s yelling “YOU ONLY LUST FOR DESTRUCTION! AM I WRONG?!” and nope. but even a broken clock, twice a day, etc.

oh shit OH FUCKING --

um, okay, (1) NO IT’S NOT, SHE WAS A LITTLE GIRL, NONE OF YOUR HANDS BELONGED TO A CHILD YOU GULLIBLE RUBE

and (2) MY FUCKING FEELS. why am I even surprised. what the fuck. I knew more angst was coming and yet it still...

just, god. okay fine Horikoshi I’m a glutton for punishment, please continue then

HAHA SOB IT’S A WHOLE FUCKING FLASHBACK OKAY SURE LAY IT ON ME!!

this really is the wildest shit though you guys. I still can’t get over it. “hello little boy I’m sorry your family is dead but don’t worry I’m adopting you and here are all of their severed hands. with little plugs on the end too or some shit. just, you know. souvenir”

I can’t fucking believe AFO played this so straight. maybe that’s why it worked. it was just so fucking out there that Tenko wound up buying it hook line and sinker. “hmm, seems a bit shady, but then again why else would a strange man I met only yesterday just randomly up and give me a dozen severed hands”

I don’t know if any of this shit is important, but it’s probably good practice to just post every mysterious thing that AFO says

yes you really did a great job healing this guy’s wounded fucking heart, Dr. Phil

oh wow, never fucking mind, even

I see, so that wasn’t meant to be a reassuring “in time you’ll get over it” speech; it was meant to be a cautionary “you’d better surround yourself with reminders of your terrible pain at all times or else you might actually stop feeling fucking miserable and WE CAN’T FUCKING HAVE THAT” speech. holy shit

I’m seriously having trouble wrapping my mind around just how terrible this is. like, it’s nearly impossible to fathom that level of cruelty. this is a four(?)-year-old child. he tracked him down, gave him a quirk that would kill his family*, sat back and watched it happen, and then let him stew in the horror of it all alone until he finally swooped in and claimed him and then raised him with the express purpose of keeping him sad and scared and angry and depressed at all times, all so he would eventually grow up and, with any luck, murder the man that his grandmother thought of as a son!

(*this is just conjecture right now, admittedly, but until I’m proven wrong I’m basically operating under the assumption that it’s true)

just. “fucked up” doesn’t even begin to describe it. god

anyways, let’s continue to read more about young Tenko’s extreme emotional abuse at the hands of the final villain I guess

OMG HANA

okay so I can’t remember where we left off on this last time, but a bunch of people said they suspected that the young Tenko wanted to be a hero when he was a little boy, and that’s why he was always clashing with his dad, because his dad’s own experience with heroes was pretty sour on account of the whole his-mom-gave-him-up-when-he-was-little-and-then-later-died-horribly thing

so yeah, I assume that’s what Hana is referring to here with the whole “I just tell Dad...” bit. so they both wanted to be heroes! how perfectly fucking tragic! great!

Tomuraaaaaa

KEEP IT UP TOMURA YOU CAN DO IT!! YOU CAN REMEMBER! YOU’RE DOING GREAT. aside from the whole “this really big man is killing you slowly” thing

yeah, this whole deal

but aside from that. doing great

!!

OOOOOOOOOH SHIT, THIS MUMMIFIED LITTLE PUNK’S STILL GOT SOME FIGHT LEFT IN HIM YOU GUYS

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

he got him to fling him away! YESSSS TAKE THAT YOU ASSHOLE. FOOL HIM ONCE, FUCKING OUCH, BUT FOOL HIM TWICE, AND LET’S SEE HOW YOU FUCKING LIKE IT YOU BIG WAD

so now Re-Destro is belatedly realizing that Tomura is going through a very weird leveling-up process and taking advantage of the fact that he’s temporarily become the main character of the series and thus possesses all of the narrative powers that come with that venerable distinction

...that he’s the main character? yes

anyways lol there’s some real good crazyface action going on here guys

did Horikoshi take the extra time just so he could devote a little longer to nailing down panels like this because if yes, A+++

SDSKJSODIFHOIESJ

it’s mom!! wow!!

DSLKFAJSLDK ARE WE GETTING BACKSTORY ON THE FUCKING SCARS OMFG I CAN’T THIS IS TOO MUCH

SOB YOU GUYS I’M CAUGHT UP IN THIS WEIRD CROSS BETWEEN BEING HYPED AF AND ALSO CRACKING THE FUCK UP NOW THOUGH, BECAUSE:

ALL OF THIS WAS SO FUCKING BADASS, AND THEN THAT LAST FUCKING PANEL, THOUGH. LMAO WELL HE’S ON THE BRINK OF SOMETHING, BUT WHO CAN EVEN FUCKING SAY WHAT

ANYWAY HE’S ZOOMING TOWARDS RD AND RD’S THINKING “HE’S FAST!” AND YEAH, BITCH, YOU SCARED??

WHAT ARE YOU THE PRESIDENT OF HIS FANCLUB NOW OR WHAT

you guys this is the most I’ve ever liked Re-Destro. there’s something about evil nemesis characters being begrudgingly impressed by their enemies that just pleases me, idk

LJSDFIJWEOF

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HIS FACE HE LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THE SCARY TREES FROM SNOW WHITE

OH SHIT YOU GUYS WE’RE BREAKING OUT THE TROPES

so do we get 100% when he goes up against Machia, then? smdh, fucking power levels. well I guess Deku technically uses them too. but still, it’s not something we see in this series too often aside from that

holy shit you guys

honestly, I guess this should be really intimidating or whatever, but all I can think is that it’s about time this guy finally started taking this “pitiable gang of thugs” seriously. even if that does mean Tomura is probably about to fucking die, barring some Giganto ex Machia. that guy really needs to get a move on

oh hey

[RAISES EYEBROW AT GIGANTOMACHIA AND JABS FINGER TOWARDS WRISTWATCH] cut it a little closer next time why don’t you??

(ETA: also I didn’t notice all of Tomura’s other hands being flung away from him by the impact, but whoa. so now he’s just got the Papa Hand left in his pocket, along with whichever hand is grabbing the back of his head. and that’s it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his dad is the only remaining family member whose face we still haven’t seen yet. some big reveal coming up with that soon, I bet.)

oh and also guys here’s some more flashbacks. this time with loving grandparents. because Horikoshi just really wants to make sure our emotions are good and churned about

okay guys, Tenko’s very dead flashback!grandma and grandpa telling him not to cry and giving him yummy food so he won’t be sad is pretty much close to the limits of what I can take, angst-wise. I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard! this is hardly my first anime flashback! I should be a pro at this by this point, the fuck is wrong with me

but on the other hand, I think a big part of it is that I’m not just sad about Tomura’s past, but also angry. because none of this is just coincidence; all of it is actually stuff that was done to him very deliberately, and the worst part is he doesn’t even realize it. and so in addition to the usual rush of protective feelings, there’s also this sense of outrage about it all too. and I think that’s the harder part to deal with. here I am, a grown adult, getting really mad over the staggering cruelty of what was done to this fictional character when he was a child. it’s possible there’s some real-life anger and frustration over certain real-life horrific cruelties and injustices that may be bleeding over into this, idk. just, the world is a fucked up place, and my emotional support manga is currently being less than supportive and it’s a struggle sob

anyways sorry about that. meanwhile while I was having a mini breakdown, possibly the most pivotal character development in Tomura’s history was happening and HOLY SHIT THOUGH WAIT UP GUYS

sdfkdsfjwoilkkj BOY!!!!!!!

SOB HOW ARE THERE ONLY TWO PAGES LEFT I’M GONNA CRY THIS CHAPTER WENT BY SO FAST

-- HORIKOSHI WHY ARE YOU CUTTING AWAY FROM THE FLASHBACK OH MY GOD I’M GONNA!!!

FUCK ME, THIS IS WHAT I WAS WAITING FOR SO IMPATIENTLY, SO OF COURSE HORIKOSHI JUST HAD TO FINALLY MAKE IT HAPPEN RIGHT WHEN I WOULD HAVE GIVEN ANYTHING TO NOT CUT AWAY FROM THAT SCENE WE WERE JUST ON. THIS SADISTIC SON OF A...

...hee. but it’s hard to stay mad, though

... :)

:D :D :D

lol what. recall, if you may, that you guys are the ones who basically forced them to come down to your mountain city and kick your asses you dickasaurs

HAHAHAHAHAAA

SDLFKJLSDKFJ AND ALSO OH NOOOOOOOO

OH MY FUCKING GOD. AND THAT’S IT. THAT’S THE FUCKING CHAPTER. WHYYYYY

EAT IT YOU PRICKS, I HOPE GIGANTOMACHIA FLATTENS YOU ALL INTO NEXT WEEK

Tomura looks so freaking sad, you guys. he’s just standing there completely still and he looks like he’s just completely destroyed emotionally

and he said he remembered everything!?! so what the shit am I supposed to do, Horikoshi?? my boy is just standing there with seven fucking fingers and one shoe and so caught up in his sad reverie that he’s seemingly oblivious to the fact that the long-awaited cavalry has finally arrived. kid is maybe 2-3 chapters away from finally triumphing over this bald Disney tree man who talks too much. and not only that, but he’s more than likely going to finally win Gigantomachia’s loyalty in the process. which in turn means he’ll have access to Ujiko and all of his resources

so in short, this boy is minutes away from becoming one of the deadliest and most powerful forces on earth... and I’m pretty sure that right now, at this moment, none of that matters to him one iota

you guys. so what does this mean for future developments?? I’m really going to need him to define “everything” ASAP, for starters. that’s a very vague statement, and its implications could mean the difference between us just having a sadder-than-usual Tomura from this point out, or a Tomura that’s sad but also realizing for the first time that there’s a lot about his past that doesn’t quite add up, or hell, even a Tomura that’s actually out for fucking vengeance against AFO. that last one seems like too big of a jump to happen right away, but dare I at least hope for the second option though? god that would just be the icing on the cake for this fucking perfect arc

now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to go do some yoga or chant some mantras or something holy shit. this fucking manga

[neverwatchedonepiece]

648-649: "Making a Sortie! The Legendary Hero Usoland!" and "The Fierce Battle Coming to the End! Lucy vs Chinjao!"

*looks into the camera like in The Office*

The fight between Luffy and Don Chinjao is finally over! I think after what happened, Luffy might have found a new friend. Law also made a stressful phone call to The Krusty Krab Sunny and ordered delivery of one ship to Green Bit.

Zoro and Franky have teamed up with Sol at Resistance HQ in Flower Field, and if Usopp keeps perpetuating his fantastic bullshit, the entire Strawhat crew will be elevated to God status in the Tontatta tribe.

Slightly worried about Law and the Strawhats stuck on Sunny but I’m seventy percent certain they will pull through and won’t be captured by any Donquixote family affiliates. (The thirty percent left over remains a huge, nagging doubt.)

Luffy’s Tough Love Fight Therapy

The Colosseum showdown between Luffy and Don Chinjao picked up at the start of episode 649.

The action was fast and furious. Luffy pulled out all his quick moves: jet pistol, jet gatling, jet stamp gatling. All defended against by Chinjao. The crowd went wild. It was one of the greatest matches the Colosseum had ever seen! Some cheered for Lucy. Others cheered for Chinjao. The atmosphere was electric.

“You’re quite a fighter,” Don Chinjao said.

“Yeah, you’re strong too, as I thought,” Luffy answered. You know. Being honest as he is.

Don Chinjao totally overreacted. “WHAT U SAY? STRONG? U TRYIN TO INSULT MEH??”

Luffy was, quite rightly, bewildered. “Wtf, all I said was that you’re strong?”

Apparently, this was a grave insult to Don Chinjao. A huge kick in the ego. Chinjao had been much stronger before.

“I’m no better than a wolf without its fangs now. A skin-headed man without his drill. A brat like you can’t understand how miserable I feel living my life like this. I’m frustrated, disappointed and sad. But you can never understand.”

I laughed when Luffy yelled, “How can I understand? You keep messing with me without explaining anything!” (He’s just saying what we were all thinking, right?)

“You really want to know why I’ve become like this?”

“No, I’m not that interested.” (Lmao! We meet again, harsh Luffy.)

“Well, I’ll tell you before you die, since you insist.” 

Don Chinjao is one of those old dudes that is TELLING you that long and rambling story even though you have showed zero interest and have been glancing at your watch for the past half hour.

Suddenly, Luffy the Fight Therapist was unwilling and open for business.

According to Chinjao, Garp punched his head in thirty years ago. Literally. As in Don Chinjao once looked like Dan Akroyd from 90s sci-fi comedy, Coneheads. 

That was until his resplendent, pointy napper met Garp’s fist.

The whole flashback was hilariously weird. Turns out Chinjao’s drill-like bonce was the only means to access his remote family treasure vault under an ice sheet. Once Garp took away the key, Chinjao fell into a deep depression. Heartbroken, he retired from piracy, a lifeless shell, just idling away time.

That was kind of sad. I felt for Chinjao then. He’s like the model of the old, proud working man who suffers a physical injury, can no longer work and slips into anger and depression. Since Chinjao knows and values nothing but strength, wealth and power, he cannot and will not see another way forward. Unlike Luffy, Don Chinjao got his ass beat and never found the strength to crawl out of the gutter and retrain.

Instead, he decided to lay the blame for his misfortune squarely at Luffy’s feet.

Luffy, naturally, was outraged. “Wtf are you talking about? Grandpa and I are different people. Look, mate. I’m busy. I’m gonna win Ace’s fruit at any cost and become the Pirate King. I have no time to be your therapist.”

Then Chinjao made two Big Mistakes.

Wow, Chinjao has Really Specific Taste

Mistake #1?

Chinjao laughed off Luffy’s chances at becoming Pirate King. The reason was typical crotchety old man talk: “the media lionised you worst generation squirts and it emboldened you. But none of you are strong enough to sail across the sea *we* fought on. After Whitebeard’s death, I ain’t expecting much. The only guy who looks good is Blackbeard Teach.”

At the mere mention of Teach, Luffy’s eyes became two circles.

“If I had to pick one, it’s him. But anyway, if you’re only good enough to compete against me, just give up!”

Oh, Chinjao, I thought. Ohhhhhhhh, you just goofed. You goofed big time. You do not mention Teach in a positive light within Luffy’s earshot. You just do not. Teach was the asshole who captured Ace and handed him to the Marines. He shares Public Enemy Number One status with Akainu. Tell Luffy you believe Teach will become Pirate King and your fate is sealed.

Mistake #2?

Chinjao’s fighting style is kinda lame. People who spin during fights in shounen anime are always fodder (the one that sticks out is that spinning top guy in the HxH Heaven’s Arena arc.) This was not his mistake. It’s just a side thought.

The Teach comment pushed Luffy’s buttons. But what Chinjao said next was even worse.

“You’re not too bad but if a guy like Rayleigh chose a brat at this level as the flag bearer for this generation, he’s not as smart as he used to be. The Marines were smart when they squelched the most evil one of the lot: Ace. That man had demon’s blood in his veins. Do you think you can beat the Marine admirals, the Yonkou and surpass Roger? That’s impossible!”

Demon’s blood? Most evil one of the lot?

*cue Kill Bill red-mist music*

“Stop whining over one punch!” Luffy yelled, as he wound up a Thor Elephant Gun attack. “I can’t count how many times I got punched by Grandpa!”

When the attack connected and that spike popped back out of Chinjao’s head, I laughed like a drain. Luffy hit Chinjao so hard, he turned the clock back thirty years.

I’m sure Chinjao will be ecstatic. Take the L with good grace, mate. Your conehead is back! Go and wreak havoc on the high seas again. Recoup that treasure. The world is your oyster!

Up on the balcony, Bartolomeo still has not revealed his connection with Luffy. Cavendish is still throwing a strop. Bellamy is lurking in the shadows, clearly in two minds about his new assassination mission. And Burgess, thanks to Cavendish and his big mouth, knows that Luffy is Lucy.

Thanks, Cavendish.

(And Burgess really does walk around chortling and flexing all the time. He’s like an evil All Might.)

Thus the Legendary Heroes of Green Bit were Born

This cast reunion based on Usopp’s total bullshit was so much fun.

I loved Usopp and Robin’s expressions when the Tontatta took them to their airport. They were starry-eyed. And so they should’ve been. It was a miniature version of a proper, fully-equipped modern airport. I wouldn’t be surprised if the place had Duty Free, passport control and Starbucks concessions.

But it was not a holiday destination Usopp and Robin were flying out to. The entire airport had been overtaken by a military operation. Cub, the yellow bee squad leader, and Bian, the pink bee squad leader, reported for duty. Usopp picked up the bee planes and kept saying, “I wanna show this to Luffy.” (They are such good pals, it warms my heart.)

Unfortunately, Usopp and Robin were too big to travel by bee plane, so they had to take the local number 20 bus to Dressrosa. The buses were cute, vulpix-like foxes with huge, fluffy tails you can sink right into for a comfortable ride.

While they made their way through the tunnel, Master Roshi - the pervy little Tontatta chief - emerged from Robin’s cleavage. He bore dire warnings. “I should tell you because you will risk your lives for our cause.”

Usopp was thinking, “I ain’t gonna die for you but go on...”

“Doflamingo has been causing our tribe a lot of pain recently, but our connection with him goes way back before the last decade. Nine hundred years ago!”

Then the narrator interrupted and I was like, “So you’re just going to leave it there when I was about to get Doflamingo family history? I am not at all mad about this. No, sir. Not one bit.”

The action cut to Flower Field, where Franky and Sol descended a secret stairwell. Said stairwell led to the Resistance Army HQ! Some soldiers ran up to Sol and addressed him as “Captain”, so Sol is a Big Deal in the Resistance.

Franky was like, “Why are all these small people swarming me?”

Sol explained. The Tontatta people were called fairies in town, how they moved faster than the human eye could detect and how they were immensely strong. Franky put two and two together and realised one of them stole Zoro’s sword!

And guess who reached Flower Field before Franky? Before any of the other Strawhats!

That’s right. It’s our boy Zoro. (So proud he learned to follow directions.)

Zoro, hilariously, had made himself at home and was watching Luffy vs Chinjao on the big screen TV. He was absolutely fuming. Why hadn’t Luffy told him there was a fighting competition? THE BETRAYAL. Will he get over it? Probably.

He must’ve been distracted by the fight, as he completely forgot 

Then some intelligence scouts ran up. They had a report for Sol. “We already know what our enemies and Sugar are doing!” (Sugar? Who dat?) “And with the battle close at hand, some legendary heroes have appeared at Tontatta: Usoland and Robiland. They have brought with them Luffyland, Zoroland, Namiland, Sanland, Chopperland, Fraland and Boneland.”

Franky and Zoro exchanged a Look. They knew instantly Usopp was on the bullshit wagon again.

“Um, I think I’m Zoroland,” Zoro said. (Lmao, better get into character quick.)

“And I’m Fraland. Nice to meet you!” Franky added.

It was round about then that Zoro remembered that Nami, Chopper and Brook were in serious trouble back on Sunny. He now wants to skip the battle (he doesn’t yet know about) and rescue the other Strawhats.

I wonder how this will go? Wicka did say she would let Zoro go back to Sunny once he’d taken her back to Resistance HQ. But Leo and the others back on Green Bit were suspicious of Robin and Usopp escaping. Will they let Zoro go or will he have to fight the battle first? Hmmm... I’m fifty/fifty about this.

God damn it, Caesar

*curb your enthusiasm music kicks in*

Meanwhile, back on Green Bit, Law was under heavy bombardment. Fujitora took a step back in this episode and Doflamingo stole the limelight. The cool music from Enies Lobby (as I call it in my head. I have no idea what the real title is) played as Doflamingo pursued Law. 

As Doflamingo was about to land a finishing blow, Caesar shrieked, “OI, JOKER! Before you kill Law, I need you to take something back for me. Law took my heart and I don’t know what he’s gonna do with it!”

Doflamingo looked round like, “Wtf... are you talking about?” And while he was distracted, Law shambled his way out of trouble.

Doflamingo was furious. FFS, CAESAR. I bet he wanted to say that but couldn’t. Gotta keep your cash cow scientist happy..

Please send help. Our art teacher has locked us in class.

Unfortunately, Law didn’t have time for a breather. He had an urgent phone call to make.

While Nami, Chopper and Brook were brought up to speed on the Humans Turning Into Toys situation by Giolla, the ship’s DDM rang. Chopper hilariously ignored Giolla and answered the call (she was maaaaad).

It was Law. He said, “Is that Nami-san?”

To my disappointment, Chopper did not answer, “No, this is Patrick.”

“I don’t care what’s going on over there,” Law said. “Listen carefully. I need you to sail Sunny to Green Bit right now. I wanna leave Caesar with you guys. No time to explain. Bye!”

Okay, so I added in the “bye” part. Law abruptly hung up.

I like how he has faith that Nami, Chopper and Brook will be able to handle the situation, but their weapons have been rendered usless by Giolla’s Art Art Fruit power. I have no idea how they’re going to get out of this one (and I’m keen to see Oda’s creative solution).

The shitshow that is Law’s current existence continued once he hung up. Doflamingo is Doflamingo. He caught up with Law again near the end of episode 648. With that slasher smile, he shot Law with a string bullet and demanded to know who Law had called for help.

Doflamingo must be confident he has Law where he wants him because he spilled the beans on his diabolical plan to snare Luffy. “Give me back Caesar’s heart already. It’s so meaningless for you to keep hanging on here. Strawhat has already walked into the trap I set. He’s fighting in the gladiatorial contest at the Colosseum. Tough contenders from all over the world come to fight in it. Outlaws only. It’s a deadly competition. When someone loses, it’s a one way ticket to hell! He will never come out of the Colosseum alive! It’s the end of your alliance, Law. Just give up!”

I wonder if Law will use the heart as leverage. Maybe he’ll give up Caesar’s heart to escape, regroup and stop Doflamingo the old-fashioned way: with Tontatta military might. (Doflamingo better not kill him off...)

Don’t worry, Chinjao. Luffy will beat you until you feel better! :D

[misssarahlouise]

6 months of radio silences...

6 months radio silents...

I had my Laser Ablation Surgery on February 21 2019. Me and my mom woke up early to get to the hospital. 5:45AM is when they would like you to be there, you get into a gown, get “fun” I IV (I’m used to it). I first talk to the neurosurgeon(s), the anesthesiologist, I get marked on my ear on the correct side of my brain that will have the surgery…ablating. This would be my 7th time doing this…at this point I'm not scared of having any surgery. So skip ahead to the OR, I’m relaxed most likely due to some medication, Dr. Spencer does a pre surgery pep talk speech, my favorite. The anesthesiologist said time to go to sleep and I went to sleep.  A really long nap, 13 hour nap. They didn’t finish until 8 pm I was told. 

They told me the week before when I signed the paperwork for the surgery said lots of things might happen, walk..clumsy...I could deal. Me, my sister And My mom all knew the risk Involved. But when I woke up I had complications that we had never thought I could have or would have foreseen. 

Not in a million years. It’s like my brain deleted 50-70% memory. I only recognized a few people: Dr. Spencer (Neurosurgeon), Dr. Chiang(Neurosurgeon), Dr. Farooque(Neurologist), Louise(My Mom), and Spencer(My Dog). It felt like everything else was deleted. Gone. I was so Incredibly sad and Utterly confused. They did tests, with numbers, pictures, I had to draw a clock… And obviously I failed Miserably, which made me more sad and more confused. I didn't understand what was happening to me. 

Eventually I got names of people that I knew are people that came into the room and then I forgot them again oh, but I was trying. My boyfriend's last name is Gibson, like the guitar, no relation. I forgot his name too, I knew I had a boyfriend oh, but I didn't remember his name, it had something to do with the guitar, so I called him guitar guy. Eventually I remembered his name, and I kept saying his name again and again and again. And eventually it stuck. I've been with Chris for eight years now and the fact that I had forgotten his name that tore me to shreds.

I couldn't believe that my brain had done that to me. Nurses and other doctors came in with flashcards and asked me what it was and I knew what the things in the cards were in my brain but I tried talking and nothing would come out or I stuttered.  It was so irritating, I tried again. they came back the next day and the next day. Eventually I got more and more right some were similar were not correct but it was close. I said binoculars instead of glasses. It turns out I had partial aphasia. Do not ask Siri because it's depressing as hell, Google it,  but even then it's still depressing as hell. Anyways eventually I was discharged. 

Me and my mother went to Staples and got flashcards for the ABCs and 123. And we did it again and again and again and again. In the beginning I could only say three cards at most. I could say d for duck an R for ruble(Like Russian currency), and Ruble was not on the card it was a ring. So obviously I had a long way to go. Eventually I got all the cards. I still have trouble with numbers. I still change the she to he in sentences. Obviously I had to re-learn my ABCs so my texting and so forth was horrible so I took a vacation from all of my technology, thank God for emojis I did not know what I'd do without them!

Week after I got out of the hospital they sent me to  Kessler Rehabilitation. I went from 1-4pm, Monday, Wednesday and Friday, it was tiring. I would do three types of therapies. At 4:30pm it’s nap time! 4-5 hour naps, can you blame me? My brain and body were shot. Sometimes I slur (a lot), and by the end of the day I just really don't want to talk because my brain is tired and it just wants to sleep cuz it's been working all day and it's tired. 

On May 6th, I had my first cluster in months. Seizure free for 2-1/2  months. I was walking perfectly and talking pretty well. And that cluster set me back it felt like months. That's when my neurologist, neurosurgeon, me and my mom decided we are going to go to plan B.

I am going to go and have a neuropace implanted in my head. Yes, I know more brain surgery. I can't remember how many brain surgeries I’ve had? I've really lost count. 

Anyway, on July 23rd, 2019 I had the neuropace implanted on the right side of my skull by Dr. Gerard At Yale New Haven Hospital in New Haven Connecticut where I've had all my brain surgeries. I was so scared I would wake up and have partial aphasia once again(might), I would have the pain in my arms which I always have having anesthesia for hours every time does that to me. I know I had to do the surgery we've tried everything else I've tried every other drug this is really my last ditch effort, so I prayed right before I fell asleep. 

7 hours later I woke up from the anesthesia and I started talking. I didn't have any slurring or any problems. I just wouldn't stop talking I was so happy. I was so happy I almost started crying. The only thing is my head hurt but then again I had brain surgery.

_____________________________  

At this time, at least I can walk straight, not look like a drunk which I did right after my surgery in February, talk monetary well most days unless I have a migraine then all bets are off. All in all I think I'm doing pretty well. Today I am still going to Kessler for Speech Therapy twice a week. It’s a huge. I still have trouble by the end of the day but my brain is tired. My brain is tired, worn out. Can you blame is? Four brain surgeries in one year.

Edited by Louise & Sarah Harris

[islareeveswriting]

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INSTAS

Time flies when you’re having fun.

Molly didn’t really believe that the first time she heard it. She’d been playing in her grandparents garden, running through the orchard and whacking apples from the tree’s with a large stick to feed to the horses in the field behind the small fence at the bottom. She was hidden by the tree’s so no one saw her or caught her out. But when her father came and found her to leave, it felt like she’d only been there ten minutes, how could it be time to go home for dinner already. Molly moaned about it, but her father just winked and told her how time flies when you’re having fun. It sounded like one of those stupid things parents say to Molly’s seven year old ears, like how carrots help you see in the dark, and bread crusts make your hair curl.

However, with age Molly discovered just how true it was. For a start, it felt like she’d blinked and first year had gone. It felt like only yesterday she’d arrived in halls for Freshers week, a shy Jimmy sat on the sofa in the living area of the flat, twiddling his thumbs pushing himself out of what Molly would discover later was his well developed comfort zone. Things changed, Jimmy’s comfort zone for one, Molly knew that, but she couldn’t help who she was, and she liked the safe, security of her normal, of what she knew like the back of her hand.

Recently though, everything felt like it was changing, and Molly hated it. Nothing felt stable or secure and that only added to Molly’s negative mindset that she just couldn’t shake.

The fact time flew when she was having fun was still as true as ever, but Molly was learning that the exact opposite was just as true and it wasn’t such an easy lesson to learn. Misery, in all its forms, made time pass like sludge through a sieve, and made nothing feel enjoyable, not even the tailoring project she should have been working on. Normally she’d jump out of bed in the morning with a menswear project on her to do list, but the past three days had been a struggle to even crawl out of bed let alone jump. The rollercoaster of emotions was draining, from anxious, to angry, to frustrated, to confused, to sad, it was a constant loop and her mind refused to focus on anything other than the thing keeping it that way. Consequently, the past three days felt more like three months to Molly.

It was a miserable Tuesday, it was pathetic fallacy at it’s finest. Rain was lashing at the windows, letting the world know the golden colours of Autumn couldn’t last forever, and winter was just around the corner. Gails were bending the trees over themselves like they were mere blades of grass, and Molly was sat at her desk, chin resting on the heel of her hand looking glumly out at the weather, rather than the laptop screen of research pages she couldn’t focus on. It was dark, she had all the lights on and candles lit, and if she didn’t know better she would have thought it was drawing into evening. But the fact she was still in her pyjamas, and her laptop clock was screaming eleven o six am at her, made sure she knew it wasn’t even lunchtime.

Nothing seemed to be able to keep her mind off her silent phone that sat on her desk, screen down, as if that made a difference. She turned it over every two minutes just in case, she even tried to bribe herself, two paragraphs and she’d let herself check it, but she barely even wrote one before she was reaching for it again. There was never anything there though, at least nothing she wanted to see. A snapchat, or facebook notification, a whatsapp from one of the various group chats she was in, but nothing from Harry.

Since she got in from her shift three nights ago, she hadn’t heard a word from him, not even a thank you when she let him know she was home. What she wanted was an apology, but she’d have taken at least some gratitude. There was a niggle at the back of her mind, that maybe she should call and check he was ok, but her stubbornness prevailed, as it always did. She ignored the niggle.

If there was a positive side, it made Ryan’s two texts a day feel like a lot in comparison and suddenly she didn’t find herself wishing for more from him. Though she knew she wasn’t meant to be comparing anything about them, she couldn’t help herself.

Molly knew she only had herself to blame. She’d told him to back off, and she supposed that’s what he was doing. Giving her the space she told him she needed, and maybe she did need it, but how she was feeling only proved she didn’t want it. If she was as head over heart as Ryan always said she was, then she didn’t want space at all. She wanted their lengthy chats, and private jokes, and the normality that Harry had become in her life. He was a good distraction from all the changes going on in the background of a blooming friendship and she missed that, maybe more than she missed the way things were before they started changing.

The sound of her bedroom door opening drew Molly’s attention from her daydream, hypnotised by the raindrops racing one another down her window pane. She twisted in her chair, the way her knees where drawn up to her chest making it hard for her to turn completely. Jimmy was stood in her room, the door open behind him, letting himself in the way he always did, no invitation necessary.

“Oh so miserable, what’s up?” Jimmy pouted, his voice mockingly, high pitched and slightly condescending. He didn’t look back to the door as he pushed it shut behind him and padded into Molly’s room bare chested, socked feet sliding along the wooden floor, his grey joggers hanging low on his hips, his black hair still mussed from sleep. If Molly looked at Jimmy as anything other than a brotherly friend, it would have been hard not to fancy him when he walked into her room looking like that. As it was she just admired the fact that his daily gym sessions were paying off.

“Nothing.” Molly mumbled, pulling at a piece of loose skin around her thumb. It dragged down her finger, going further than she’d expected, but it was somewhat satisfying once it was gone.

“It’s been nearly two years Mol, you’re a shit liar.” Jimmy reminded her as he perched on the end of her bed, and leaned forward a little, closer to Molly, looking up at her through the dark, thick eyelashes that Molly envied. “Come on you’ve been moping around like a homeless puppy for days, you’re beginning to depress me.” Jimmy went on, eyes wide, completely unamused. “Uni? Ryan? Harry?” Molly felt herself prickle at his name. If it would have been anyone else, it would have gone unnoticed, but it was Jimmy so it didn’t. “So Harry.” Jimmy sighed.

“No.” Molly bit a little too quickly and a little too aggressively to be convincing.

“Two years Mol.” Jimmy reminded her like it was second nature.  “What’s he done? I don’t like my chances with that fella but I’ll hunt him down and try my best if he’s upset you.” Jimmy questioned. It might have been in jest, and it did make Molly smile, but his tone of voice mixed with the look on his face suggested that Jimmy was completely serious.

“That won’t be necessary.” Molly told him, still smiling a little.

“Good, cause the arms on that bloke could snap a tree in half, so god knows the mess he’d make of me.” Jimmy breathed, Molly giggling a little, an image of Harry’s toned, tanned arms, littered with artwork entering her mind for a brief moment, though still a moment too long to keep the blush off her cheeks, she was sure. “What happened then?” Jimmy asked, bringing her back to their conversation and away from Harry’s arms and what that could lead to when her mind was left unchecked. Molly thought about it for a moment, because when it came down to it, she wasn’t really sure if the reason she was so upset was because of how he’d reacted to her work, or how he’d let himself through doors she wasn’t wanting to be opening for him.

“He came into work on Saturday night and got all judgey.” Molly mumbled, looking down at her lap and finding another piece of skin to tug at. It didn’t come away so easily as the first piece, and it didn’t rip all the way down her finger, it stung a little more and Molly kept her eye on it in case it decided to bleed the way it felt like it might.

“But he was there.” Jimmy pointed out with a confused, yet smug look across his face. It mirrored the way Molly felt when Harry had aired his views and how hypocritical it had felt of him.

“Exactly.” Molly practically cried, thankful Jimmy saw it the same way she did. Every so often Molly had wondered if she’d been unjustified in her reaction to Harry’s words, or not seen it from his point of view enough, but Jimmy’s words reassured her that probably wasn’t the case.

“So you went all I’m a twenty first century woman, don’t be a dick, on him?” Molly nodded with half a smile, one side of her mouth lifted. Part of the reason that Harry had gotten under her skin so much, was because he was the only person in her life who had ever made her feel less for how she earned her money. The way he spoke and the way she felt he was looking at her made her feel dirty, when all she did was pour drinks in an outfit that left little to the imagination. No one had made her feel like that, and of all the people she thought might, Harry would have been at the bottom of that list. It frustrated her that it got to her so much, but she couldn’t help it.  “Good.” Jimmy beamed produly.  “Prick.” He hissed to which Molly smiled to herself. She could always rely on Jimmy to have her back, she was fairly certain, no matter what.  “I guess there’s more to it than that though based on the fact normally you get over that shit within about twenty seconds.” And with that her smile fell again.

Yes Jimmy had her back, because yes Jimmy was her best friend, but that came with the fact that she was transparent when it came to him. She couldn’t keep anything a secret when it came to Jimmy, she couldn’t hide anything, not a feeling or a thought or a worry. He saw right through her every time. It was both a blessing and a curse, and Molly couldn’t quite decide what it was this time, but she knew there was no point trying to pretend like what had her so troubled was anything other than the truth, because she wouldn’t get away with it when it was the black haired, blue eyed boy she was talking to.

“He made out like Ryan should have a problem with it,” Molly sighed. “I dunno, I just felt like he was getting into things that have nothing to do with him but thought he had the right.” Molly tried to explain though she wasn’t sure she was doing a good job. Mainly because she wasn’t sure what she was actually trying to say, it was confusing her and saying it outloud made no difference to that. All she knew was that there was a part of her that wanted to let Harry in, but a bigger and braver part that didn’t think she should, not for all his knocking, and not for all of his letting himself in, and not even for how much it felt like he should be in all those parts as much as he clearly wanted to be.

“No one has the right Mol.” Jimmy told her, and Molly nodded. She knew that, and Harry didn’t have the right, she knew that too. What she couldn’t work out though was why until that moment, two doors down from Coyote, in the first hours of the day, with an atmosphere between her and Harry that she hated, she hadn’t been able to draw that line so clearly. “He does care about you though, a lot, any fool can see that, even me and I’m rubbish with that sort of stuff.” Jimmy’s voice was soft but stern, serious, like he knew what he was talking about, like it was an unarguable fact. Molly swallowed, truths normally hurt, but that one felt soft and warm like coming home to a roaring fire out of a raging storm. “I don’t know what he said, and I’m not excusing any kind of male supremacy shit that came out of his mouth, but I think it came from a good place.” Molly knew what Jimmy was getting at, but it was still hard to swallow, and she was sure it didn’t make it ok.

“I told him to fuck off.” Molly muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“You tell me to fuck off every other day, still here.” Jimmy shrugged, reaching for Molly’s hand before she could find the piece of skin she was searching for, and tugging her towards him.

“I haven’t heard from him since.” Molly mumbled, slumping on the bed and falling back into it, her legs dangling off the edge, feet not quite reaching the floor.

“Call him then.” Jimmy suggested, looking over his shoulder at her.

“No.” Molly frowned, offended that Jimmy would think she’d give in that easily. He chuckled falling back beside her. Their heads twisted to look at each other like it was habitual, staring back at one another.

“Well carry on being miserable until he thinks he should stop fucking off, which by the way, probably won’t be soon.” Jimmy told her, with the same factual tone of voice, and the same despondent shrug. It wasn’t his problem, or at least he’d make it look that way, though secretly they both knew Jimmy wouldn’t stop trying to fix it with Molly until she was back to herself again.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Molly asked quietly, her eyes narrowing like she might be able to make out the answer from Jimmy’s eyes if she looked close enough.

“I don’t think we’re close enough babe.” Jimmy smiled, reaching down for Molly’s hand and clasping it, intertwining their fingers instantly. Molly shook her head and rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away.

“Oh fuck off don’t call me that,” Molly sneered as Jimmy cackled. “But I was talking about me and Harry.” Molly explained.

“Oh, no, you’re friends.” Jimmy told her with a creased brow. The certainty in Jimmy’s voice was reassuring, but not reassuring enough for Molly to be convinced he was right.

“So are we, but you don’t wanna walk me everywhere after dark, or drop me home after meals with other people, or get all possessive when you find out I work out in a, whatever you call that place and we’ve known each other far longer than Harry and I have.” Molly explained, looking between the ceiling and Jimmy as she listed all the things that made her question the relationship she had with Harry. Leaving out the part about the way her heart fluttered when he smiled at her, or the way she’d missed his calls recently, or how much it had hurt to walk away from him that night and leave things on such a sour note.

“Harry and I are very different though Molly.” Jimmy sighed. Molly could agree with that, and by the same token their friendships were very different. “Also I don’t have a crush on you.” Molly rolled her eyes, she was tired of people saying it and seemingly using it as an excuse. “And you don’t have a crush on me.” Molly fired her glare towards Jimmy, a look that could kill taking over every feature and making Jimmy snort a laugh.

“I do not-”

“Two years.” Jimmy bit in with a knowing, smug smile. Molly’s nostrils flared and she set her jaw tighter. She didn’t know what to say, but she couldn’t argue it, it would be pointless. “It’s a crush Mol, it’s not a big deal,” Jimmy told her, but it didn’t make Molly feel any better. “I’ve got a crush on Lauren, that’s not a secret, I’m not about to ask her to marry me though am I? She’s far too much of a princess for my liking.” Molly should have laughed, giggled, but she didn’t. Her heart was racing with nowhere to hide.

“I fancy him Jim, and it’s so fucking annoying cause I shouldn’t fancy him like that.” Molly agonized staring at the ceiling. Jimmy squeezed her hand, and chuckled again.

“I fancy him, have you seen him, anyone with eyes surely fancies him, don’t stress about it, you’re allowed to fancy people and think they’re fit or good looking or whatever you girls say nowadays.” Jimmy promised, squeezing her hand again. Molly sighed. It would be hard not to be endeared by Harry, she had to admit that. With that chiselled face, deep eyes that looked like they held all the secrets in the world, but more than the way he looked, the way he made her feel like she was unstoppable. Yes it was hard not to fancy him. It was even harder to stop the feelings that she kept pushing back down. “Call him, sort it out and cheer the fuck up or you’re gonna have to move out I’m afraid.” Jimmy insisted when Molly didn’t say anything else to counter his argument or diminish what she was feeling. Molly shook her head at that though.

“I’m not calling him.” She vowed, turning her head to Jimmy again, eyes wide and serious, full of promise that Jimmy knew she was about to break.

“I’ll make pancakes.” Jimmy bartered with a sweet smile.

“That’s blackmail.”

“Does it work?” Jimmy was full of innocence, pale blue eyes wide and childlike as he looked at Molly hopefully. She couldn’t help but feel Jimmy knew what was best for her, maybe better than she knew herself, or at least in this situation. It was foreign and new and she didn’t know what she was doing or where she was going. It was scary. It was terrifying. Nothing felt like it could be promised, because nothing felt like she was familiar with it. She was on the edge of something unknown, but she was also surrounded by it. It might suffocate her if she let it, but something in her knew she wouldn’t be drowned so easily if Harry was with her, and so she knew what she had to do, no matter how much she hated giving in and going back on herself.

“Eugh, I hate you.” Molly groaned, sitting up and letting her hand fall out of Jimmy’s as she did so.

“Two years, two long years, pancakes are your weakness, and you love me,” Jimmy beamed, standing from her bed and rounding it, back to the door. “I know you like the back of my hand Cecelia Molly Thomson.” Jimmy winked with a proud smile that Molly couldn’t help but return. She was glad he knew her like the back of her hand, she supposed someone had to, and she’d have chosen Jimmy if she could.

“Get out of my room James Henry Smith.” Jimmy shook his head, hating James as much as Molly hated Cecelia. They both knew it, but still they both used it against one another. WIthout another word, Jimmy opened the door and disappeared around it, closing it behind him again, leaving Molly alone with her thoughts and her phone.

With a strained groan, Molly leaned forward on the bed and reached for her phone. For a few moments she just stared at the black screen, wondering if she could make Jimmy believe Harry just never answered if she didn’t even try. The truth was, apart from the fact she’d set herself on not calling Harry first, she wasn’t sure what she was meant to say.

Without thinking too much, whilst trying to erase everything from her brain that was making it feel fuzzy, she unlocked her phone, pulled up Harry’s name and pressed the call button. She fell back on the bed and focused on it ringing. Once, twice, three times, four, five. It never took this long for Harry to answer and she started to panic she’d made the wrong decision, or she was too late, or something far worse that was so out of the realms of possibility it was ludicrous.

“Hello.” Eight rings and Harry’s voice finally sung down the phone, though it only sounded like it sung because it was better than having to hear the calling tone one more time. In reality it was as heavy as Molly felt, and she felt a little sick and very nervous.

“Hey.” Molly barely whispered. It felt like everything had suddenly gone from her mind, every word she’d thought about saying disappeared, replaced with the fact Harry had answered, that she could hear his voice, and that he was ok.

“You ok?” Harry asked strongly, his voice as gravelly as ever. The fact she’d been so quiet seemed to have no effect on him. It felt like he was distracted and Molly had no idea how to feel or how to play it.

“Yeah, are you ok?” She asked trying to match his voice and keep away from the homeless puppy image Jimmy had described her as.

“I’m fine.” Harry told her, but that was it.

“That’s good.” Molly tried to smile. It felt strained and it had never felt like that between them before. It made Molly’s heart sink, but it didn’t stop racing as it did so. Molly didn’t know what to say, even more so than in the first place, but what was making it worse was that Harry didn’t seem to either, and she knew that was her fault. “What are you up to?” Molly asked, rolling her eyes at herself. They couldn’t just have a normal conversation, not yet, but she was forcing them in that direction because she didn’t know what else to do.

“Currently leaving the gym.” Harry told her, the sounds of the street the backing track to his voice.

“Not at work?” Molly asked, staring at the ceiling, biting down on her lip as she waited for him to answer.

“Not today.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“Yes.” Harry almost hissed, of course he knew that. It was his tone of voice that forced Molly to face why she’d called.

“Do you want to talk?” Molly sighed, closing her eyes and praying he did.

“Yeah.” Harry breathed, seemingly softening. Perhaps he didn’t mean to sound so harsh or cold. Perhaps he was just as nervous as Molly was, perhaps he just handled that differently to Molly. Where Molly babbled and lost track of her thoughts, Harry shut off and closed down to the bare minimum. “Coffee?” Harry suggested.

“Perfect.” Molly smiled, because she couldn’t help herself despite the inevitable conversation they had to have before anything could go back to how it was.

“I’ll meet you at yours.” Harry told her, his voice once again warm and soft even with the gravel in it.

“Ok, see you in a bit.” Molly finished.

“Will do.” He sounded brighter, and Molly tried to revel in that, tried not to get anxious about what might be said, about what she might say, and about what she wanted to say. Molly laid on her bed for a few moments in silence her phone locked but clutched in her hand as she stared up at the ceiling, though she wasn’t really seeing, just looking. Her mind's eye was much more compelling, the imagining of seeing Harry far more interesting than her blank ceiling.

“Harry’s coming here.” Molly called out loudly to Jimmy, the only other person in the house, everyone gone off their separate ways.

“Ok there’ll be plenty of pancakes if he wants some.” She heard Jimmy call back and Molly frowned to herself. She hadn’t thought Jimmy would actually be making pancakes, she thought it was just a rouse to get her to call Harry, because she thought Jimmy knew as much as she did, that deep down she wanted to call Harry, but with the excuse of pancakes she could blame it on that rather than the fact she wanted to fix things with him more than anything.

All Molly did over the next twenty minutes was check her phone. Minutes passed agonisingly slowly and each time she looked at her phone she couldn’t believe it had only been another sixty seconds since she last checked it. Thoughts were racing through her mind like formula one cars, whizzing past so quickly she could barely make sense of them. There was no doubt Molly wouldn’t remember everything she wanted to say to Harry, everything that had been cropping up in her mind since they last spoke, and as her thoughts raced it only felt harder to pinpoint anything at all.

When the doorbell did eventually ring, Molly’s stomach lurched up to her throat. A sick feeling bubbled up in her stomach and her appetite for pancakes disappeared with it. As much as she wanted to see Harry and fix what had happened between them, she still felt nervous. Molly padded through to the hallway tying her hair up on her head as she went, trying to look less like someone who had barely made it out of bed that day. Molly took a deep settling breath before she reached for the door catch, though it didn’t do anything settling really.

“Hi.” Molly smiled weakly, looking up at Harry who looked, thankfully to her, just as tense as she felt. It was all over his face.

“Hi.” Harry breathed, a little stiffly for Molly’s liking. She’d never really known him nervous or anxious, not in that way anyway, not in the way that made him seem like less than his normal self, still as endearing but not as bright.

“Erm do you want to come in? Jimmy’s making pancakes, he said there’s enough for you, or we can just go for coffee like you said, I don’t mind, we can do-”

“Pancakes sound great.” Harry cut in, stopping Molly from her bubbling, nervous, spiel, dragging her eyes back from the floor where they’d fallen as she got lost in her words. Molly sighed moving an inch closer to contentment as Harry accepted her information so positively.

“Come in.” Molly moved aside as she said it, letting Harry into the house. “How are you?” She asked once he was in, and closing the door behind him, finally taking him in.

“Not so bad.” Harry mused, wobbling his head from side to side, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, though if he was trying to hide the bandage around his hand, sliding up under the sleeve of his jumper, the swift movement had the opposite effect. The stark white of the strap against the black of his clothes, caught Molly’s eye, snatching her gaze quickly, though it was back on his eyes in a second. He looked tired, worn out, maybe even a little fed up. His skin was lack lustre, like he’d missed some hours of sleep recently, and his hair was scraped back so harshly Molly could almost make out the shape of his skull. He didn’t look dissimilar to the morning he’d found her in Clive’s, eating a cheese scone and sipping on tea.

“What did you do to your hand?” Molly asked, a little quitely, sure Jimmy was eavesdropping and deciding that wasn’t part of their conversation he needed to hear.

“Rugby.” Harry muttered, moving his hands in his pocket so the jumper stretched towards Molly. He didn’t take it back out though.

“Anything to do with the reason you’re not at work?” Molly quizzed cautiously.

“No it’s fine, just bruised, just didn’t book in any work for today, worked quite a few weekends and it’s catching up with me.” Harry explained with a few nods of his head and a lopsided smile. Molly believed him, she had no reason not to, but she did notice how his injury rate seemed to have gone up since they first met.

“So you went to the gym to unwind and relax with a bruised wrist.” Molly jested with a smirk.

“As crazy as that is to you, yes.” Harry chuckled. It felt nice to joke with him, it felt like maybe what had happened could just be forgotten and they could just carry on from that point like nothing had even happened. Unfortunately, Molly knew the consequences of things left unsolved, they festered and grew to something much darker. Maybe the disagreement between her and Harry was inconsequential, but there were things that needed to be said. And it seemed she wasn’t the only one who knew that. “I’m guessing this isn’t the conversation you had in mind when you asked if I wanted to talk though.”

“No.” Molly sighed, as a creak of the kitchen floorboards sounded behind her. Molly looked over her shoulder, there was nothing to be seen, but no doubt Jimmy was lurking. “Come through.” Molly nodded down the hallway and led the way to her bedroom. Harry followed silently, kicking his trainers off in the hallway before he did so, his socks slipping against the false wooden floor. Once in her bedroom Molly closed the door behind them both. Harry looked awkward, lingering in the opening space, glancing over the room though making an obvious point of not looking too hard. “You didn’t text me back.” Molly started taking a seat on the end of her bed.

“You told me to back off.” Harry retaliated, his hands finally leaving his pocket, though his damaged hand didn’t catch Molly’s attention now.

“You coulda text me back though, I thought something might have happened.” Molly explained.

“You obviously weren’t that concerned, you never called either.”

“You really upset me the other night Harry.” Molly asserted strongly, not wanting there to be any confusion about how she’d felt as she walked away from him and left him alone on the street that night.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, I never meant to, I just-” Harry hesitated for a few seconds. “Just how I feel.” He sighed as he finished, his whole frame deflating slightly, chewing the inside of his cheeks as he looked at Molly with slightly heavy eyes.

“You get why it’s got nothing to do with you though right?” Molly asked.

“Yeah I get that, but I’m not about to pretend I’m ok with something if I’m not Molly.” Molly shirked, even though she remembered clearly telling him not to call her Lolly it still sounded harsh and strange when he called her anything but.

“Don’t call me that.” Molly sighed, shaking her head.

“You said-”

“I was angry, Molly sounds weird when you say it, please don’t.” Molly insisted, staring up to Harry through her lashes from where she sat on her bed, the heels of her hands pushed deep into the duvet.

“You’re not angry anymore?” Harry asked, shifting his weight around a little and taking a careful step closer to Molly.

“Not really.” Molly shrugged, for a second Harry smiled and seemed to straighten as he moved closer, deftly, and perched beside Molly. “Well, not so long as you can keep your sexist views to yourself.” Molly warned with raised eyebrows, twisting her head to look at Harry.

“They’re not sexist.” Harry groaned with an eye roll.

“If it was one of your bloke friends doing the same for a bunch of women would you have reacted the way you did?” Molly questioned, certain she knew the answer.

“That’s different.” Harry told her and Molly huffed a sort of laugh, baffled he couldn’t hear how much of a hole that put in his argument.

“That’s sexist.”

“You don’t understand.” Harry sighed, shaking his head and dropping his eyes to his knees.

“I understand perfectly, you think, because I’m a girl-”

“No see, you’re wrong already,” Harry interrupted, biting a little and firing his eyes back to Molly who recoiled under his tone. Harry noticed, but just lowered his voice before continuing. “Because I care about you, because you’re a friend, because I don’t want to see you get hurt, and because I don’t like the thought that the only reason some of those men weren’t putting their hands on you was because they wouldn’t be allowed back again if they did.” Harry explained surely, he wasn’t a sexist, strong women had played far too greater role in his life for him to think they weren’t capable of anything. Literally, anything.

“So why would it be ok if it was one of your guy mates?” Molly asked tilting her head and widening her eyes at him.

“I never said it would be ok, I said it would be different.”

“Exactly!” Molly all but screeched throwing her arms wide and shaking her head as his words only sunk in further.

“Not different in that I would be ok with it, different as in I wouldn’t feel so bloody anxious watching it.” Harry argued.

“Cause I can’t handle myself?”

“No.” Harry told her honestly with a little puff of air.

“Thanks.” Molly mumbled letting her tongue hang from her canine tooth to ensure Harry knew just how offended she was.

“So you’re telling me, for instance, if Shane wanted to do something to you that you didn’t like you’d be able to stop him?” Molly didn’t like the example. Shane’s name slithered up her spine like a snake, the same way the looks he threw around did. That man did not sink into Molly’s skin so easily, rather sat on top of it and irked her, like a rash.

“Would have a fair go.” Molly rebuked confidently.

“The answer is no Lolly, not because you’re a woman, not because you’re weak, because you just wouldn’t be able to.” Harry told her, and it sounded like it was more than a good guess. Molly couldn’t decide if the example of Shane made it that way, or if there was something else in Harry’s mind that made him so sure, maybe the fact she’d struggled with her books the day they’d first met, or her bag that hadn’t bothered his strength at all when they left the cafe and walked around the park. “Trust me.” Harry finished with a curt nod.

Their eyes were locked on one another and searching. Molly couldn’t drop Harry’s gaze even if she’d wanted to. There was something lingering in the shadows of green that she wished would make its way into the light. There was more to Harry’s defiance that he wasn’t letting her into, she knew he had every right to keep things from her, it would be hypocritical of her to call him out on it, but she’d never wanted every part of someone as much as she did in that moment as she stared back into Harry’s eyes.

“Ryan does know about it by the way.” Molly blurted before her desire to ask what else he wasn’t saying got too much. The conversation changed and the tone with it, in an instant. Harry seemed to unfreeze as Molly’s words processed.

“And he’s ok with it?” Harry asked without a glimmer of surprise, dully.

“Supportive actually.”

“Has he been in there?” Harry questioned almost wincing as he did so.

“Yes.” Molly practically hissed.  “It’s what I want to do, it’s how I get through university unsupported by my parents and that’s what I wanted so he backs me, I don’t need you to do the same, but I would like it if you could at least stop being so judgemental.” Molly explained emphatically, her tone getting slightly higher with each word.

“I’m not being judgemental.” Harry told her, though the single raised eyebrow Molly threw back at him told him she didn’t believe him. “I’m not!” Harry insisted a little petulantly. “It’s not you, or what you do, trust me,” Harry started, sighing a little, not sure how to make her see, without divulging every detail he fought to keep hidden from the world. “It’s men, I know men, I know how gross men can be and how vile they can be, and I saw how they looked at you and I just, it’s just,” Again Harry hesitated, he didn’t know the words, he couldn’t explain himself, he didn’t know what to say or even where to begin and he growled quietly to himself, shaking his head. “Eugh it doesn’t matter.” Harry mumbled quietly through frustration.

“No come on say it, you may as well, you’ve said everything else you’ve wanted to say why stop now?” Molly insisted, pushing for the words Harry was avoiding.

“No it doesn’t matter we’re just going round and round in circles.” Harry told her defiantly, shaking his head.  “I’m not gonna be ok with it cause that’s just me and I’m not about to change, so let’s just leave it as agree to disagree on this one.” Harry shrugged, not seeing an ending where either could agree with the other.

“But it’s important to me, what if I say something about work?”

“Well we talk about it I guess, I’m not a child, I can tolerate things I don’t like.” Harry told her with half a smile.

“Ryan’s shoulders and the wall in the Haunt say different.” Molly reminded him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah well, I can’t throw your job against a wall can I?” Harry jested, smirking as he did so. Molly’s face cracked into a smile, her lips curling at the corners and lifting her cheeks as well as her spirits. Harry couldn’t help but follow suit.  “There’s that smile.” Harry cooed, nudging Molly’s arm gently as he did so.  “We don’t have to agree on everything to be good friends.” Harry told her with a certainty.

“You’re right.” Molly nodded admitting defeat, though she couldn’t deny that she’d rather hear Harry come around to her point of view and admit his views were wrong, but she wasn’t about to do that either, so she supposed she had to admit defeat.

“I think so.” Harry beamed happily, sitting up a little straighter.

“Yeah well, we can disagree about that as well so I’d quit while you’re ahead.” Molly warned facetiously. Harry just laughed, Molly’s smile and giggle not far behind, it was hard to stay anything like mad at him and it was far easier to feel like nothing had even happened.

“Is it weird I missed you?” Harry asked quietly as his laughter wore off leaving him a touch breathless. “Considering we’re ‘just friends’ and stuff.” Harry added, with air quotes for emphasis, for clarification.

“You don’t need the air quote, we are just friends, but if it makes you feel better I missed you a bit too.” Molly admitted, because there was no point lying.

“Just a bit?”

“Yes a very, very little bit.” Molly told him pinching her fingers tightly over thin air and squinting her eyes as if looking for a needle in a haystack Harry pushed her arm away and scoffed at her.

“I don’t believe you.” Harry leered, leaning a little closer and smirking annoyingly. Harry’s hand fell easily to land over Molly’s shrunken by comparison one. It rested gently there for a few seconds.

“We’re about to have another argument if you don’t shut up.”Molly warned, pulling her hand from Harry’s and pushing him back gently, both of them smiling throughout.

“PANCAKES.”  Jimmy’s call sounded through the flat and both Molly and Harry turned sharply to his voice. The bedroom door was still shut and it seemed they’d both forgotten they weren’t alone, the company they shared fading from their minds as they became engrossed in each other and their conversation.

“Cor good timing, put a cork in that one for us.” Harry joked with a wink, pushing himself up from the bed. Molly shook her head following suit and skirting past Harry to leave the room. He followed quickly though, keeping up with Molly and watching from behind as she wandered down the hallway to the kitchen.

Jimmy was famous for his pancakes, at least amongst their friendship group. They were a rare Saturday morning treat, so Molly felt beyond grateful to be eating them on a dreary Tuesday morning, alone with Jimmy and Harry, not having to go easy on the syrup of the berries in case there wasn’t enough for whoever was yet to make it from their bedroom the kitchen. Jimmy didn’t miss the opportunity to let Harry know how great his pancakes were before Harry had even managed to take one from the stack and put it on his plate. Luckily for Jimmy the pancakes didn’t let him down, and Harry had to compliment him on them. They went down a treat the way they always did, only normally they were reserved for housemates who already knew the sweet treats would be great.

It was strange, Molly never asked Harry to stay the day, but after Jimmy left for university, it seemed to be an unspoken certainty that Harry would stay the day. And he did. All day.

They watched movies on the sofa, Molly rustled up cheese toasties around mid afternoon and they devoured them in front of Toy Story 3, Molly trying not to cry, though ultimately failing. Harry chuckled and pulled her in close, holding her tight to his body to comfort her. It worked, instantly, and Molly couldn’t help, or get rid of the butterflies that erupted from being that close to him. Despite it all, it was still confusing, only now with no bad blood between her and Harry there was nothing to hide behind when he made her feel the way she wished he wouldn’t. But then she wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it, he just did it. It didn’t seem like an effort for him to be the kind, sweet, charming man that made her feel weak at the knees and put an unprecedented smile on her face.

Molly was falling out of love with Ryan. It was clear as day. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though. Molly couldn’t have anticipated how much falling out of love would hurt. It was hard to forget how deeply she’d been in love with Ryan once, and it made her sad how easy it had been to fall out of love with him. It had taken her some time to realise that was what was happening, but it hadn’t been hard to fall out of love with him. It was harder realising how easily it had happened, how the change had moved past her largely unnoticed. Falling in love had felt like endless moments of breathless, heart skipping, joy, but falling out of love was a blur of tears and arguments. It was so unexpected, she was so in love that she’d thought that was just how it would always be. It didn’t make sense that she could be that invested in someone and suddenly just not be anymore. But that’s how it was. Her heart didn’t skip for Ryan anymore, it didn’t feel joyful with him around, and the only time she was breathless was because she’d been crying so.

She couldn’t even try to hide it anymore, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still terrify her. The potential consequences felt like rot in her mind, and the thought of life without the constancy of Ryan made her feel sick. But she couldn’t ignore the way she was beginning to feel for Harry and continue to pretend that it didn’t come from the way things had changed in her for Ryan. It didn’t feel nice, but it felt better than running from it all the time and feeling constantly exhausted. All she’d been doing for weeks was trying not to compare them, but it was hard not to do when Harry was at a her door in a heartbeat to fix things, yet Ryan didn’t even seem to realise things needed fixing. It wasn’t even that she thought she wanted something more with Harry, she hadn’t got that far yet, it was just that she didn’t want it with Ryan anymore either.

In the contented comfort of their day, neither seemed to realise the room get dark as she sun set again. It wasn’t until the credits rolled up the screen on yet another Pixar film that Molly realised just how late it had begun to get. Evening was surrounding them, she sat up, though all she really wanted to do was pull up a blanket, put on another movie and curl up a little tighter. She’d face a new reality later, but their cocoon would do for now.

“Did you want to stay for dinner, I think I’ve got some chicken and pasta and stuff.” Molly yawned, the comfort and warmth of the sofa taking its toll.

“As delicious as chicken and pasta and stuff sounds, I told my nan I’d go there for dinner, sorry.” Harry lamented, sitting up to join Molly and rolling his shoulders, shaking off a little of the satisfied weariness he was feeling.

“Don’t be it’s fine, I’d take a nan’s cooking over mine any day.” Molly smiled looking back over her shoulder at him. The thought came to Harry instantly but it took him a fair while longer to perk up the confidence to actually voice it.

“Why don’t you come with me?” Harry asked with a confidence in his voice that masked how anxious he felt as the words spilled from his mouth.

“Don’t be daft I can’t do that.” Molly laughed frowning a little.

“Why not?”

“You can’t just invite me to your nans for dinner.” Molly pointed out shaking her head and tuning back to the TV, picking up the controls to turn it off as if the idea drifted from her mind that easily, though it didn’t at all. Molly was dreaming up the scenario in her head, sitting around a dinner table with Harry and his nan, the right kind of nervous in her tummy.

“I just did, it would be rude to say no now.” Harry told her and she could hear the suggestiveness in his tone.

“Your Nan isn’t expecting me and doesn’t know me.” Molly reminded him, glancing over her shoulder, though the smile on Harry’s face was telling her it wasn’t going to be that easy to get out of it.

“She won’t mind honestly, she loves having people.” Harry insisted. “Come on whatever Nana Nancy has on the table will be far better than that chicken and pasta and stuff you offered me, and you get to hang out with me some more.” Harry winked with a smirk.

“You’re such a jerk.” Molly berated, though the smile on her face didn’t match up with that as she tapped his arm playfully. “I just don’t know how I feel about turning up uninvited.” Molly admitted with a small shrug her hand lingering on his bare forearm, covering the black ink of it.

“You’re not uninvited.” Harry told her without even a drop of irony. “You go change I'll call her let you know you’re coming trust me it will be fine.” Harry insisted. Molly stared back at Harry for a few moments waiting for him to pull the carpet from under her and tell her that he was only pulling her leg, but all he did was stare back, seemingly waiting for Molly to get up from the couch.

So she did just that. She got up from the couch and left Harry alone in her living room to get changed into something more suitable to have dinner with his grandmother. Jeans and a jumper seemed like a good option and the approving smile on Harry’s face when he saw her again told her it was indeed, a good option.

The drive out to Harry’s nan’s house wasn’t particularly long, though Molly had never been so far from the city centre. She didn’t really realise she was surrounded by so much greenery in such close proximity. Of course she knew the countryside was there, but in the same way she knew about the mole on her back. It was there constantly, but she rarely caught sight of it. The country lanes weren’t long and winding like the songs suggested, and they reminded her of home. They were unlit, but every so often another chocolate box house, warm and cosy and lived in, would throw an orange glow out from the side of the road as people lived their lives inside.

It had probably been half an hour when Harry started to slow down. They’d driven into a village that Molly had missed the sign for so she had no idea where she was, but it was a rabbits warren of closes, each holding five or six cottages, each with perfectly decorated front lawns, with wooden gates and fences keeping them tied in and seperate. Molly didn’t know anything about Harry’s family, not even his parents names, and she knew she shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but she knew enough about the world to know they weren’t in a run of the mill area.

Harry turned the car off and looked to Molly giving her a reassuring smile as he unclipped his seatbelt. Molly followed his lead and swung herself out of the car. It was cold outside, but that wasn’t the only reason she wrapped her arms around herself. Harry joined her on the pavement and slung his arm over her shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

“Don’t be nervous, she’ll love you.” Harry sounded as certain as he did about most things. Molly smiled like she was reassured, but she was beginning to wonder if she’d made the right decision by agreeing to join Harry for dinner at his grandmother’s.

It didn’t shock Molly particularly when Harry let himself in with a key on the overstuffed chain he carried, but she also noted how she was sure she didn’t know anyone else who had a key to their grandparents houses. Molly followed close behind Harry, but was almost instantly comforted by the warmth she walked into and the scent of a home cooked meal. She hadn’t smelt one of those in a long time. It smelt like cosy winter nights, fires burning, ready to warm from the chill of an afternoon walk and a stop in the pub. It smelt like home and it didn’t feel much different either.

“Hello,” Harry called out as he kicked off his trainers. Molly did the same with her boots, her arms by her side now though her hands were curled up in her sleeves. “Where are ya?”

“Kitchen, love, cooking your dinner aren’t I?” Molly heard a voice call back. It was clearly a woman’s voice, though it was a little shaky from age. Harry looked over his shoulder for Molly and offered another small smile. Molly wished he’d reach back and take her hand, she felt like she needed it, and he looked like he might be thinking of doing it, but they both knew better. Instead Harry just nodded up the hallway towards the room at the end, lights on and clattering sounding from it. Molly couldn’t help but glance into the two rooms they passed. A living room first, photos on all the walls, lamps on and the tele off. The second door was closed and the room was bathed in darkness so Molly turned her eyes back to where they were going.

The kitchen was huge and traditional, but that came second to the plump old lady stood by the hob, an apron tied around her middle as she fussed over the pans she had on the side.

“Hi Nan.” Harry beamed, taking two large steps over to his grandmother, reaching her before she turned but waiting until she’d done so and throwing his arms around her, placing a kiss on her cheek which was returned quickly. The love there was unbelievably readable, it sung from every part of them as they embraced and Molly couldn’t help but smile as she looked on.

“Hello love, how are you? Look tired.” The lady frowned as Harry stepped back and she stroked his hair back.

“I’m fine nan.” Harry assured taking her hand and gripping it tightly. “Nan this is-”

“Molly,” She grinned stepping away from Harry who let her hand slip from his as Nancy took tiny fragile steps over to Molly who was stood nearer to the doorway than the love in the kitchen. “Hello love, I’m Nancy, it’s nice to meet you, aren’t you pretty, look at your hair, I knew a girl with hair like that once, gosh, takes me back, it’ll be grey now I suppose.” Molly giggled as Nancy lifted her arms to embrace her.

“Nice to meet you too.” Molly bent into the hug, nerves filtering out as Nancy gave Molly a little squeeze. “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh not a problem at all, do you like chicken casserole?” Nancy asked as she stepped back looking up at Molly.

“I do, sounds delicious.” Nancy smiled and wandered back to the pans, Molly’s eyes raising back to Harry, finding him looking over with a thoughtful smile pulling at his lips. It grew when Molly’s eyes met his, a little reassurance still, but something extra added in as well.

Harry and Molly lingered in the kitchen as Nancy finished cooking, chatting with her as she did so. It was mainly Nancy finding out all she could about Molly, and how she knew Harry, little nuggets of her own life sprinkled in every now and again. Nancy seemed fascinating and Molly was sure she had many stories, more than enough to fill one evening.

“Why don’t you two go and lay the table?” Nancy suggested after having a taste of the casserole bubbling away in the oven.

“The table!?” Harry quizzed surprised.

“Harry we have guests, you can’t eat on your lap all the time, take Molly and lay the table please.” Nancy instructed with a wag of the spoon clutched in her fingers. Molly chuckled silently as Harry’s crest fell and he turned out of the kitchen, Molly following again.

“I think she forgets I’m not still five sometimes.” Harry grumbled, turning on the light in the closed room.

“It’s sweet.” Molly informed him, though her eyes were glancing over the room and all the trinkets the dining room was home to. A polished ebony table sat in the middle, chairs to match with royal red cushions embedded in them and golden casters under it all. There were photos on the walls and Molly couldn’t help herself, glancing over them. One of two small boys, she could see Harry in one of them, a little around the eyes so she assumed they were Nancy’s children and Harry’s father and uncle. A couple on their wedding day in black and white, the lady was clearly Nancy and the man looked strikingly like Harry. Like someone had dragged him back to the past, cut his hair to something more suitable to the times (though not ridden of the signature curls completely) and painted him black and white.

“Is that your grandfather?” Molly asked, peering over to Harry who was fetching mats from a drawer in a cabinet that matched the table.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled with a hint of sadness. Molly deflated her arm dropping, she regretted asking. “It’s ok, he died when I was little, I’m named after him, middle name and all.”

“That’s lovely.” Molly smiled. “You look like him.”

“Yeah, Nan says that’s not the only way I’m like him, she’s not keen on that I don’t mind though, worse people to be like.” Molly chuckled and moved to help Harry with the mats forgetting about the photographs with the information Harry so readily provided for her.

They laid the table over chat about their grandparents, though Molly didn’t ask why Nancy wasn’t keen on the similarities between Harry and his grandfather, and Harry didn’t try to say anymore on the matter. The food came in and they all took a seat. They ate slowly, the food second to conversation. Molly had doubted how happily she’d be received, though Harry hadn't for a second. As she sat at the table with Harry and Nancy, she wondered why she’d been so concerned, they got along just fine, and Nancy couldn’t have been more welcoming.

The evening passed happily and easily. Hours drifting by in the blink of an eye. Dinner was followed by pudding of apple crumble and pudding, in case Molly didn’t feel at home enough already. When Harry stood up and told Nancy they should get moving, it was getting late, Molly wished that wasn’t the case. She could have sat there all week listening to Nancy’s stories about Harry as a child and further back. She knew him so well, as if he were her own.

“Yes of course, I don’t like you driving in this dark.” Nancy announced with a folded brow, standing from her seat. Molly moved to help clear the table but Nancy batted her hands away insisting that it wasn’t necessary. “Go on, you two make a move.” She smiled and Molly nodded, heading back to the hallway with Harry, Nancy following to say goodbye.

“Thank you so much for having me Nancy, and thank you for the dinner it was lovely.” Molly smiled as she put her boots back on her feet.

“It’s not a problem my love, you are welcome anytime.” It was sincere, Molly could tell and she thanked Nancy as she stepped forward to give her a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye.

“Thanks Nan, see you Saturday morning, love you.” Harry said, giving his grandmother a similar embrace to the one he’d offered when they arrived. Molly smiled again, it was infectious. Something about Harry made Molly think he’d had a hard childhood, troubled maybe, but when she saw Harry with Nancy it made her doubt that assumption. Love like that didn’t lend itself to trouble.

The drive back to Molly’s flat was as uneventful as the drive out. They chatted, Molly told Harry how lovely his Nan was and how fun she seemed. Harry just agreed and chuckled, moving the conversation on though. The radio was on but quiet, their talking the main sound as Harry drove Molly back home. Eventually street lights made their way back onto the roads again and Molly began to get her bearings back. Eventually she knew where she was again but it didn’t feel as homely as the little village in the middle of nowhere.

Molly’s street was quiet and Harry pulled up in the same space he’d left earlier that night.

“No one’s home.” Harry commented looking to Molly’s flat, complete darkness through the ground floor windows. Molly nodded, she’d expected as much. “Will you be alright here on your own?” Harry asked.

“Yeah I’ll be fine, I’m on my own here all the time.” Molly told him with a lopsided smile.

“Really?” Molly just nodded again. “You should say, I’d come over and hang out with you so it’s not just you.” Harry told her and Molly didn’t doubt that for a second. “I can come in if you want.”

“It’s ok, I’ve got project work to get on with.” Molly told him, though she appreciated the offer and she hoped he knew that. “Thank you though, I appreciate it.” She said, to make sure.

“Well I’ll get going then, back to work tomorrow.” Molly chuckled and nodded.

“Thanks for putting up with me all day.”

“Don’t be silly, I had a really good day.” Harry told her.

“So did I.” Molly smiled. “Let’s not fall out again.”

“Good plan, I like it.” Harry grinned and Molly giggled, glad to agree on that at least.

“I’ll text you later or something.” Molly nodded as she unclipped her seatbelt. There was a thought in her mind and it had been there all day, ever since Jimmy had left for university and put it there, but she’d been continuously putting it off. It made her hesitate over the door handle.

“Harry.” Molly started, and immediately blushed both from how out of place the sound was and as anxiety rose over what she was about to ask. “Erm, just wondering, and you can say no, I’m having drinks here on Saturday for my birthday, I was just wondering if you wanted to come.” She blurted, but didn’t stop there, classic Molly getting ahead of herself and not being able to stop the nervous bumbling talk. “You can say no, I won’t be offended, I get it, hanging out with uni kids is-”

“Lolly.” Harry interrupted strongly and quickly, reaching for one of the hands she was flailing around. “I’d like to come, I want to come, sounds great.” He smiled taking her hand out of the air with his own and letting them rest together in between them.

“Cool.” Molly breathed and Harry chuckled mostly at the turn of phrase Molly thought. “You can bring a friend or friends if you want, I don’t mind, whatever’s good.”

“Ok cool.” Harry mimicked and Molly rolled her eyes.

“Goodnight then.” She smiled leaning forward and offering a hug. Harry wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could for the gear stick and hand break in between them.

“Goodnight, talk later.” Harry mumbled into the hug.

“Can’t wait.” Molly beamed, pulling back and sliding from the car, no irony in her admission and, warmth creeping through her as she unlocked the door, waved to Harry and heard him pull away only once the door was shut and the light inside flicked on.

____________________________

So the first new chapter.......!

Who’s excited? Who enjoyed it? What did you think? Let me know, this is personally one of my faves so I’d love to hear your thoughts and theories.

Thanks for all the love on this so far and thanks to my bae @harrysmeadow for being the best proof reader ever. 

Enjoy, love I xx

[a-splash-of-stucky]

A Messed Up Place | Three

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky gets some news which he does not want to hear.

Warnings: References to sex and nudity, language (there’s always language in my work, lbr).

Notes: Written for @hellomissmabel - we finally get to find out what Y/N has to say!!! 

Y’all ain’t ready for this chapter, man. Y’all ain’t ready.

AMUP Masterlist

Bucky trudges into his room, angrily brushing away the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. He blindly chucks his clothes into his laundry basket then throws himself onto the bed, smothering his face with his pillow.

He’s hurting on a more profound level than the physical.

There’s a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be, one that Bucky doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to refill. He doesn’t know how to patch himself together. If this were a battle wound, he’d bust out the first aid kit and fix himself up with some sutures, wrap the injury in white gauze. Instead, he has to contend with a throbbing pain somewhere deep inside him, a dull ache that seems to resonate through every fibre of his being.

It’s difficult for him to come to terms with the reality of the situation.

You’ve left him.

Bucky never imagined that losing you would feel this bad.

But can he even say that? Is it right for him to say that he’s ‘lost’ you, that you’ve ‘left’ him? Bucky knows that the two of you were never together in the first place, so what right does he have to feel as miserable and sorry-for-himself as he does? This was a relationship fated to fail from the outset, a doomed ship setting sail towards its inevitable demise. He’s just been patiently counting down the seconds as the clock ticked towards zero, when everything would explode in his face.

This love was always going to be his downfall, he knew that right from the start.

What Bucky didn’t know was just how excruciatingly, agonisingly, unbearably painful the fall would be.

—————————————

“I have something to tell you,”.

Bucky feels like his heart has frozen over. Ice spreads through his veins, chasing away the blissful warmth he attained after a glorious round of sex with you. Something in your voice puts his senses on high alert. Something in your voice tells him that he’s not going to like whatever it is you have to say.

“What is it?” Bucky croaks out, wincing internally at the hesitancy in his tone.

You roll over onto your side to face him, pillowing your cheek in your palm. From the way you’re gnawing incessantly at your bottom lip, Bucky knows that this must be something big. His mind is going into overdrive, every possible scenario playing out in his head. As the seconds bleed into endless minutes, Bucky feels himself slowly losing his mind. With each second that slips past, the stitches of sanity keeping him together are slowly beginning to come apart.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs, reaching his hand out to rest on your hip, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you—you can tell me, I—,” he pauses to swallow nervously, “I’m here to listen,”.

Your gaze meets his. There’s a flicker of wistful sadness behind your eyes, here one moment, gone the next. You smile ruefully, then take a deep breath.

“Okay, um, I don’t know how to say this, but I—heh,” you mutter, your voice trailing off as you twist onto your back and throw an arm over your eyes. “Fuck it, okay, um, there’s…I have feelings for someone else,”.

Bucky’s frozen heart splinters into about a million shards. The far-fetched hope that Bucky might somehow find his happily ever after with you, the preposterous fantasy that he might one day admit his feelings to you, only to discover that you felt the same way — that dream has been crushed in a most devastating, destructive way. He feels dead on the inside, devoid of all emotion. It’s like you’ve flipped a switch inside him, opened up the floodgates that had been holding back those niggling worries and voices of doubt. Now that you’ve delivered the bad news, told him what he never wanted to hear, those fears come crashing through his system in an overwhelming, tsunami-like wave of depression. You haven’t even properly told him anything, yet Bucky feels like he’s heard all that you need to say.

They are the six words Bucky never wanted to hear, yet a part of him is sadistically glad. At least he didn’t have to say it, didn’t have to find the courage to break things off — he’s a coward, at heart, he knows that. Bucky would never have been able to find it in himself to say no to you, you’re just too addictive. Besides, he knew that this was coming. Bucky never deserved you. You were always too good for him.

He realises that you’re waiting for some sort of reaction from him, so Bucky forces himself to grit out an “Okay?”, voice tentative and a little unsteady.

“…yeah, um, we—we’ve both got feelings, for each other, actually, and…and I’d kinda like to see them more seriously, start goin’ on dates with them, y’know?” you explain, continuing to talk to him even though you’re not looking at him. Bucky’s glad for that; he feels like his expression is anything but neutral right now.

A thought pops into his head, one that brings the bitter taste of bile up his throat as a sickening feeling sets into his stomach. “Y/N…I haven’t…been…the other guy, right?” Bucky asks slowly, pushing himself into an upright position, swinging his legs over so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his back towards you. “I—you…haven’t…done anything with this person, have you?”

God, how awful would that be? To be complicit — knowingly or not — in hurting someone else’s feelings; Bucky doesn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if that happened.

“Oh, Bucky, no,” you murmur, sitting up and scooting closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t use you like that, never,”.

“Good,” Bucky breathes, releasing a quiet sigh of relief as he turns to flash you a wry smile over his shoulder. He doesn’t know what exactly is ‘good’ about the situation right now, but at least it’s not as bad as it could get.

A pause, then, “I just wanted to tell you, because—well, because this,” you say, using your free hand to gesture between yourselves, “This can’t keep going on. This wasn’t gonna last, Bucky,”.

If his heart hadn’t broken into a million shards already, it most certainly would have now. As it stands, the splintered remains of Bucky’s heart are now crumbling to dust, all shreds of hope vaporising into thin air. He’d take that god-awful chair — fuck it, he’d take years in that god-awful chair — over this. Anything but this. You might not know it, but your words are cutting him so much deeper, so much more viciously than any knife ever could.

“So this is it, then?” Bucky says tiredly, “This is the end?”

“Um—,”

“Look, Y/N, it’s okay, I ain’t mad at you,” Bucky assures you, placing his hand over the one you have on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Thank you for telling me, I’m happy for you. I’ll just—see myself out, yeah?” he says, brushing your hand away as he moves to get off the bed.

“Bucky, wait—,” you say, your hand darting out to catch his metal wrist.

“No, Y/N, it’s fine, really, I get it,” Bucky murmurs, forcing another smile onto his features to mask the pain blooming somewhere deep within his soul. “Really, honestly, seriously—believe me. I’m happy for you, Y/N,” Bucky repeats, quirking up the right side of his mouth; playing it cool as if all is right with the world.

A hesitant smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Yeah?” you mumble, “No hard feelings?”

“None at all,” Bucky replies, as he stoops down to pick up his clothes from the floor, “It was great while it lasted, but I’m glad your life is going somewhere,”. He straightens up as he pulls on his boxers, letting them hang low on his waist. The jeans and t-shirt he slings over his metal forearm.

You’re chewing your lip pensively, as if you have something to say. In truth, Bucky is this close to losing it himself — a part of him wants to unlock the invisible chains holding his feelings back, wants to let his mouth loose and spill all the secrets he’s been holding close to his now non-existent heart.

Bucky surprises himself by remaining strong, though, putting on a mask of bravery as he heads over to your door. He puts his hand on the handle and gives one last cursory glance over his shoulder, drinking in the sight of you, splayed out on the bed with your hair tousled and your body language screaming ‘I’ve-been-freshly-fucked’. He’ll probably never get to see you like this ever again, so Bucky allows himself a moment to commit your beauty to memory, searing your image into his brain.

You shoot him another smile. “Bye Bucky, I—,” you cut yourself off, turning to look away as you shake your head. “Never mind. See ya,” you say quietly, giving him an awkward wave.

“See ya ‘round, Y/N,” Bucky murmurs, turning the handle and letting himself out.

There’s a gloomy sense of finality in the air when the door swings shut with a resounding thud. Bucky feels incomplete — and if he thinks about it, he is.

He left his heart on the other side of the door.

—————————————

Bucky looks up from his book as someone raps their knuckles sharply on his door.

“Come in,” he calls. His heart does a weird flip-flop thing when he sees it’s you.

“Hey Buck,” you say, slipping into his room and easing the door shut behind you.

“Y/N, hey!” Bucky says, forcing cheerfulness into his voice even though he feels anything but.

It’s been over a week since the two of you broke off your arrangement and Bucky is still reeling from the blow. The metaphorical pain in his chest has given way to an everlasting melancholiness, like a dark, ominous storm cloud is permanently hanging over his head.

“You look good,” Bucky comments, as his eyes give you a quick once-over. Bucky can’t help but admire the way your navy blue dress hugs your body, the ruffles around the neckline accentuating your collarbones and giving the smallest peek at your cleavage. It’s exactly your style; understatedly elegant and pulled together, striking that perfect balance between sexy and classy. Bucky feels like he can’t breathe because you’ve stolen his breath. You look absolutely stunning.

Then again, you always look stunning.

“You’re all dressed up, I see. It’s date night tonight, I take it?” Bucky asks.

“Yep,” you reply, coming to stand on his side of the bed and turning around, “Can you zip up my dress?”

“Oh—yeah, of course,” Bucky murmurs, reaching out a hand to complete the task. He tries to keep his contact as light and chaste as possible, despite the fact that all he wants to do is roam his hands over your body and call you his own.

That thought pushes him into a new line of thinking, on that results in an uncharacteristic pang of jealously flaring in his chest. His vision tinges red at the thought of some douchebag laying their hands on you, hell laying their eyes on you. They don’t deserve your beauty, whoever they are — no one does. You are a goddess walking among mere mortals; who on this earth is is worthy enough of your presence? Call him selfish, call him possessive, but Bucky is more than willing to punch the living daylights out of anyone who so much as displaces a single strand of hair from your perfect head.

Bucky clears his throat in an attempt to rid himself of such thoughts. It was a momentary lapse of control, but it leaves him no less shaken — Bucky is more than a little bit terrified of the thoughts that crop up in his head when he thinks about someone mistreating you. “So when do I get to meet this mystery man?” he asks lightly, clambering off the bed and trailing behind you as you head towards the door.

You chuckle as you step out into the hallway. “Oh—you can meet him now, actually,”.

“Meet who?” asks a familiar voice.

Oh shit.

“H-hey, Steve,” Bucky stutters, trying desperately to keep his eyes from bugging out as Steve makes his way down the hallway. His best friend has donned a crisp blue shirt and tucked it into a pair of well-tailored black pants, courtesy of Tony, most probably. A leather jacket completes the look.

“You look amazing, Y/N!” Steve cries, smiling fondly as he loops an arm around your waist. You give Steve a pleased smile, before your gaze flickers back towards Bucky. He sees the unspoken question in your eyes: is this okay?

If he’s honest with himself, Bucky doesn’t know how to answer that.

All those thought that Bucky’s had about killing anyone that dared to lay their dirty hands on you?

Yeah, they can go right out the window.

Because no way in hell, is he going to be able to bring himself to kill his best friend.

(Been a hair too close to that once already. Bucky doesn’t plan on bringing Steve that near to death anytime soon.)

That throbbing in his chest had started up again, a pain that just seems to intensify as the moment draws on.

Who on this earth is worthy of a goddess’ love? Only an angel, of course. Steve’s heart is one of the purest that Bucky’s ever seen. The burden on his shoulders lightens, the tension in his chest eases slightly, knowing that he’s losing — losing? — you to Steve. Steve is someone he can trust. Steve is someone who’ll treat you right.

That doesn’t make the slap of reality hurt any less.

You have feelings for Steve, Steve has feelings for you, and all Bucky feels is a world of pain. He can deal with you loving someone else, but when that someone else is his best friend? Fuck, he can’t even hold it against Steve, it’s not like Bucky’s ever told him about his feelings for you, or about the arrangement he had with you. The punk’s going into this completely oblivious to the history between you and Bucky, so he can’t be blamed for anything. More than that, Bucky doesn’t want to blame Steve for anything — Bucky’s the one that’s wrong in the head, not Steve. Steve deserves happiness, you deserve happiness and Bucky?

Maybe Bucky doesn’t deserve happiness. It’s certainly what the fucking universe seems to be telling him right now.

What did he do in a previous life to deserve this torture?

Oh, that’s right. Only kill about a hundred people.

So is this okay? Bucky doesn’t fucking know. It’s the best scenario out of all the ones that could have possibly unfolded — as far as things could have played out, it’s far from the worse that could have happened.

“Buck? You alright?” Steve asks worriedly.

Bucky startles, realising that the two of you are looking at him with concern written all over your faces. Bucky needs to keep himself together, play it off like everything’s cool. The last thing he wants to do is ruin your first date with Steve.

“I’m fine, m’fine,” Bucky says, leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb and crossing his arms over his chest nonchalantly. “Just surprised to see you clean up so well, Rogers,”.

Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s teasing, seemingly satisfied with Bucky’s reply. You’re not as easily convinced, however, the hesitation still evident in your gaze. Bucky gives you a tiny smile and a small nod, mutely conveying his approval of you and Steve being together.

We’ll talk later, you mouth, as Steve says something about heading down to the garage. Bucky waggles his eyebrows in reply. He doesn’t really want to talk, but if it brings you a peace of mind, he’ll go along with it. You still seem unconvinced, but are forced to turn your attention back to Steve as he takes you by the arm and guides you down the hallway.

“Have fun, kids,” Bucky calls, trying to inject as much mirth into his voice as possible. “Make sure you have her home before curfew, Steven, or I’ll come chasing after you with a broom!”. Bucky snorts when Steve gives him a rather ungentlemanly hand gesture in response.

Once the two of you have disappeared around the corner, Bucky goes back into his room, kicks the door shut and slumps down in front of it. He hugs his legs to his chest and curls up into a tight ball, resting his forehead on his knees. No matter how he looks at the situation, he’s fucked. He’s so, incredibly fucked.

How did things get this messed up?

[wckedheart]

Saudade - Chris Schistad

Hii guys, just something that came to mind and I decided to write. English is not my first language, so, I’m really sorry for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it ;)

Summary: (Y/N) is exchange student, having a bad day missing home, so her best friend suprises her.

Warnings: Possibly grammar errors

FREDAG 14:30

The bell had finally rung.

And the day was finally over, and before anyone could stop her for a small talk at the hallways, she was already at the bus stop, taking the first bus to her little apartment not too far from there.  

(Y/N) was having an awful day, and it wasn’t because the day didn’t go as planned, everything went perfectly fine, school was fine and her grades were good; it was just the feeling deep in her heart she usually felt a few times during the year, the feeling she couldn’t put into words because in this new language, it didn’t exist.

She enjoyed being an exchange student, she felt lucky and blessed to have this opportunity. Being independent and living alone, exploring a new culture was exciting, having new friends, and she enjoyed as much as she could, but she couldn’t help missing her country, the tropical weather, the food and her family.

She arrived at the building, climbing the steps two at a time, her apartment was at the second floor, the only door on that specific floor with a mat with bright words coloring the space “Welcome Home” written in big letters; with a sigh, she opened the door encountering the silence and the tick tock of the clock on her kitchen. It was quite depressing.

Hanging her coat and taking off her boots, she went to her room at the end of the corridor as she thought about home and her dog who was always at the door barking and waving its tail when she would open the door.

Her bedroom was the same way she left it in the morning, her bed untidy, the curtains open letting the light of the sun pass through the window illuminating the room, it was the coziest place of all the apartment, her favorite place besides the kitchen (she has always being a food person); changing her clothes to one big T-shirt, that she was sure it wasn’t hers, but couldn’t find in herself to care at the moment, she crawled under the covers, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and wished to sleep as fast as possible.

************

The sky was getting dark by the time she woke up with the beautiful mess of pastel colors of the sun setting fading into the night and the few sounds coming out of her kitchen, she was startled for a second, but groaned knowing exactly who was at her apartment. Not caring about her lack of clothing she marched to the kitchen annoyed, she just wanted to be alone and be miserable alone, what was so hard to understand about this.

So, there he was, Christoffer Schistad, standing on her kitchen casually making sandwiches, humming a song, she watched with arms crossed and a frown adorning her face while he did everything, grabbed the potato chips on the cupboard, plates and everything he needed.

As always he knew why she was like this, after 3 years of friendship, this kind of thing was normal. He just knew when she was missing home, she was not her usual self, always wanting to be alone, in school he would find her on the empties classrooms, no one understood how this worked, not even them.

“You would be scared if you looked in my mind, murder can be committed in very creative ways.” He laughed a little, placing the sandwiches on each plate with the chips.

“I feel like I should be scared, but all I know is that, you do not look one bit threatening.” He responded side glancing her way, turning around to the fridge grabbing two cokes.

She rolled her eyes sighing entering completely on the kitchen and hoping on the counter, pulling the plate closer and started eating. There was no reason to fight with him, it was pointless. Chris just looked at her, smiling, while she ate, and tossed her one of the cokes.

“How did this get into my fridge?” She asked, taking a sip on the bubbling drink.

“I bought it, a few weeks ago.” He shrugged. “You have to many healthy stuff on this apartment.”

(Y/N) shook her head at the boy, smiling lightly, trying to hide it, Chris on the other hand smiled wholeheartedly, noticing her mood change.

“What are you doing here?”

He sighed smirking at the girl, big brown eyes staring right back at him.

“You ask this every time, you already know the answer.” He leaned on the sink, attention on the can in his hand. And then there was silence, but it was better than before when she was alone, the feeling of hollow wasn’t as strong as before, she always hated it when Chris showed up on this days, but it always made her feel better even if she wouldn’t say it, he just knew.

More minutes passed, the two of them eating their food and Chris making all the small talk, talking about their bus, the parties and anything that came to mind, she never said anything, but he always got some reaction out of her, and for him, it was much better than answers.

“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I also know this” He pointed at her sulking form. “is not you, and I don’t like this new you, so I brought you something, I think you’re going to like.”

At this new information (Y/N) perked up, like a kid would to her mother saying that there was ice cream for dessert, looking curious she watched as Chris went to her living room, she just turned, since the only thing that separated the kitchen to her living room was the counter she was sitting on.

He grabbed the box on top of the sofa carefully and brought it to her, who still had a confused but anxious face.

“Open it.” Warily she placed the box by her side, looking at his smirking face one more time, she opened it, squealing right as she saw what was inside.

“Oh My God!”

He sworn he never saw her smiling that widely, it was quite a scene. (Y/N) looked from the little puppy to Chris, she couldn’t form words to describe how happy she was at the moment. So, putting the puppy back to the box carefully, she tackled him in a hug almost making the both of them to fall, but he regained his balance quickly, laughing.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

(Y/N) said still smiling grabbing the puppy out of the box holding closer to her, Chris couldn’t stop smiling too, watching her pet the little animal, her eyes were watery and she sniffed hugging the animal.

“I can’t be- are you crying?” He asked surprised, a little amused with the sight of the girl holding the dog like it was her life, she laughed lightly sniffing one more time wiping her watery eyes.

“It’s just so cute, and little and fragile.” (Y/N) said kissing the dog who barked, making the girl melt a little more. Chris had this really wide smile almost turning into a laugh.

(Y/N) was on the ground playing with Kala, chasing her new owner and barking happily, she was a puppy just a few months older full of energy, then she looked up to her best friend smiling.

“Why did you do this?” (Y/N) asked standing, letting the puppy explore her new home, leaning right beside Chris on the counter. He looked at her smiling face then to the Kala, that had just found her chewing toy.

“Since I met you, you’re always talking about getting a pet and how you miss you dog back home” He took a lot at her, who now was focused on him. “Then you have this really bad days, I don’t know, I just thought that you would be happy to come home and find this little ball of fur.”

Chris watched her happy smile fading and her once happy watery eyes turning into sad ones, then she smiled sadly sniffing.

“You know this is our last year, I’ll be gone in a couple of months, I-I don’t know if I will be able to take her with me.” She felt so weak and dumb, crying over everything and anything, this is why she hated this “bad days” her emotions were all over the place and she couldn’t control it.

At this point the smile on the boy’s face had disappeared, and it was like a blow. She wasn’t from there, not even close, she was from the other side of the planet, miles and miles away; and she loved it there, but she loved her country too. After three long years she was leaving at the end of the semester.

Kala seemed to sense the heavy emotions on the air, cause she started to bark at them waving her little tail tripping over her toys, (Y/N) laughed getting on her knees.

“She’ll stay with me, so you have a reason to visit, it’ll be like having shared custody.” The boy shrugged, that made her laugh with a happier mood.

“Ha, that is something I would pay to see, you can’t even take care of yourself.” (Y/N) mocked the boy, giving him a look. Chris faked a hurt look, she was getting better.

“I would advise to start saving money, princess.” He winked at her turning to the kitchen. “Oh, and by the way, nice shirt.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks getting warm, she couldn’t see his face but she knew he had his signature little smirk and shrugged the shyness away, this was way to normal to have her embarrassed. Sighing happier than earlier, she stayed at the ground playing with Kala,  taking a few pictures of her, soon Chris joined her, and they both passed the time laughing and playing around.

In that moment they were her family, and missing home wasn’t so bad.