#i spent 30 minutes drawing his dogs and I hate that

[afterartist]

Animation practice!!

(But also I’ve hit 20k followers on tiktok and idk how to feel about that- why r people following me?? (,: )

The audio sucked to sing up but it was good practice

Also this was originally meant to be part of a bigger video but I’m super mega lazy so :p

[degenerateshinji]

DAY 2

What i lack in dazai i think i made up for in background

Guys its dazai's pov ok just imagine him sitting there on the other end of the gondola hes the guy driving the boat guys i promise hes there

im drawing 15 tomorrow so i dont have to draw chuuya's stupid hat

[aforrestofstuff]

Chapter 149 Expert Review Time

Hey gamers what’s up time for another CHAPTER 👏 REVIEW 👏

It was looking kinda bleak last time for pretty much everyone so I’m hoping things improved this time around, but it seems Murata and ONE are kinda going through their “I’m going to put my characters through the MOST” phase so… that feels unlikely. But nevertheless… still excited to see my favorite boys.

The 10000th Psychic Sister cover. Murata, I’m begging you. There’s literally like 30 other characters to choose from. I know you like drawing boobs but imma need you to put the pencil down for a minute and take a walk because this just ain’t IT.

“Summer is coming” it is July. Summer has been here for ten years. I’m so fucking hot all the time. Everything has been evaporated out of me and I’m literally a raisin.

The Psychic Sisters covers are just so devoid of life a lot of the time… I wouldn’t mind if it was them fighting or engaging in everyday activities but when they’re posed for the camera and deliberately placed there to look sexy it just sucks all the human out of them. The cover/splash page is a great chance to show characters in a new light!!! It’s mostly set away from the story so you can do whatever you want! Choosing to make 80 fanservice covers is just wasted opportunity for what could be additional character development. It’s gotten to a point where even the smegma-slinging bitchboys on Reddit are complaining about the excessive sexy covers…. When PussySlayer384756 complains that there’s too much tittage being shown, that’s how you KNOW we’ve got a problem. Now, idk how the fan climate is in Japan but I can’t imagine they’re feeling much different over there either.

Also, her anatomy is… janky. Her tit is bigger than her head, her belly is too long, and she’s got like 4 spare ribs. Like, I’m by no means an art expert but it doesn’t take a chef to know the soup is shit, you know what I mean? I feel like page after page of Murata drawing obscene muscle men has made him rusty on what should be (somewhat) normal-looking people.

Darkshine learns what TRUE peak male performance looks like.

You’ve gotta wonder how Darkshine even got to the S-Class to begin with when he pussies out of nearly every single fight… except the one where the opponent was literal water. Everyone says that he just joined the association for additional validation, and I believe it… this boy is not cut out for actual hero-ing. 99% Of the time HE’S the one who needs a hero.

It kinda bothers me how useless he’s been post-Garou fight, especially when we spent like an entire chapter trying to console his ass. I get that’s part of his character and development… but it’s begun to slow things down. We get it. We don’t need to see him be insecure every time a new enemy pops up. One was enough. We would’ve gotten the same effect if he just sat out the entire time post-consolation, because everything that’s happened to him on the surface has been kinda redundant.

Here comes the boooyyy 🎶🎶

Nice callback. I’m glad Metal Bat is finally here. Bitch runs slow as fuck.

It’s nice to see him act on his own agency instead of orders from the hero association. He’s clearly much happier when helping out on his own accord, and has a ton of initiative too. The chapter he got with just he and King meeting up and slingshotting themselves to the fight was really a breath of fresh air from all of the fighting. It’s moments like these where ONE remembers that people like OPM for the characters, and not necessarily the pretty action sequences. I really like this duo. I like Metal Bat. I like it when they’re given time to be themselves and not just vessels for the next fight scene.

I know I said I wanted the heroes to die but Murata I’m begging you please don’t kill the child. You can kill Puri, though. I hate that fucker.

Child Emperor regularly visiting and eating with Bofoi even despite being his lab assistant would be a lot cuter if Bofoi wasn’t the human equivalent to a dog turd. I might’ve overstated that… seems like Bofoi is just using him as an errand boy. The clear lack of respect he has for CE is very indicative of his character and is not necessarily a bad thing plot-wise, but I would still like to beat him with a cane. Additionally, it’s clear that he’s not going to help the heroes here. At least, I don’t think so. His “fuck them kids” attitude seems to be a pretty big pillar in the building of his character and I doubt ONE would jeopardize that just because he’s written himself into a corner. Oh, well. We’ll see.

It’s very sweet that even when near death, CE still thinks of Zombieman. Aaaaghh it’s so GOOD when the characters actually LIKE each other. I know realistically not everyone is gonna be friends but man… it would be a lot cooler if we got more insight on their chemistry. Pleaz have more Metal Bat-and-King-esque chapters. I wanna see how everyone gets along.

Also, the concept of Puri just manifesting drilling powers and carving through solid rock with nothing else but pure strength and determination is so funny. A little convenient, sure, but I really don’t care because it’s actually done well. Their reunion scene is hilarious. More stuff like this pleaz….

I don’t even know what to say about Genos here. Dude, I know you made an oath to protect Tatsumaki or whatever, but there’s no shame in a good bail. You can’t even bail anymore because your damn legs are gone. See, this is what happens when you make promises. The secret to keeping your legs intact is doing the bare minimum. Hope this helps ❤️

He’s making a valiant effort but… I’m afraid he just ain’t gonna do much while roleplaying as a worm. Maybe he’ll make a chrysalis and come out as a butterfly. Wait, that’s caterpillars. Fuck. TATSUMAKI IS A GONER, BRO. WE NEED YOU TO BE THE DEUTERAGONIST!! IF YOU DIE WE LOSE 70% OF MERCH SALES NOOOOOOOO

Local man has a heart attack in front of thousands of little monsters and somehow saves the world, more at 5.

King I’m begging you please get that shit checked out that’s not NORMAL.

Yeah, I like this conclusion. Very tasteful cliffhanger. I mean we know King ain’t gonna do shit but SOMEHOW black sperm is gonna get punted like the little cumstain he is. Can’t wait to see the events that unfold next chapter… it seems like every scene that involves King turns out to be really funny and I’m super looking forward to black sperm seeing Jesus.

Also, a little off-topic but I just really like the way Murata inked his pants. Got a real comic book feel to it. I mean, he’s just really good at drawing clothes overall (save for Fubuki’s body-tight dress that is 100% not how women’s clothing works but I digress). Fucker understands fabric physics like I understand how to make a bomb ass chicken parm. I respect it.

In conclusion, lower everyone’s expectations of you and you might get to keep your arms and legs. This has been Life Lessons from Forrest. You now owe me 50$.

[dinosaurtsukki]

❀ hypothermia | “you never did love me, did you?” feat. sakusa kiyoomi

⇢ day 6 of angstcember

⇢ synopsis: sakusa knows how difficult he is to love but for you, he’ll reluctantly let down his walls

⇢ a/n: the roles for this fic were supposed to be switched at first but i got really >:( about the sakusa hate night thing and realized that we don’t deserve this beautiful man

⇢ pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

⇢ word count: 2.2k words

ANGSTCEMBER MASTERLIST (feat. haikyuu!! and bungou stray dogs)

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going on a date wasn’t sakusa’s idea, rather, it was a whole conspiracy created by atsumu, hinata, and bokuto, who all had the ‘good intentions’ to get sakusa to get out and mingle with more people. in other words, go on an actual date. his hair was uncomfortably slicked back, his shoes pinched too tightly, and despite how un-crowded the cafe he waited in was, sakusa could feel the discomfort of having to breathe in other people’s air.

‘if this person isn’t going to show up in ten minutes, i’m leaving,’ he ultimately decided. except, that’s exactly when you decided to show up. sakusa’s eyes automatically glanced up when you walked in, searching the cafe, before spotting him at one of the tables.

“i’m so sorry about that, traffic was terrible,” you sat down with a huff. “you must be sakusa-san, right?”

“...right,” he nodded slowly, studying you intently as you quickly checked your reflection in your compact mirror.

“atsumu-san told me about you,” you smiled, lacing your fingers together on top of the table. sakusa observed that your nails were cut short and filed down neatly, something that he approved of. he honestly didn’t understand why people purposely glued long, plastic nails on their real nails.

“yeah? what did he say?” he asked.

“some stuff but...” you shrugged. “does it matter what he thinks? i’m the one you’re dating, after all.” 

sakusa raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed at your quick judgement. with that, he tugged his mask down, folded it, and placed it neatly on the table. “you’re right about that. shall we order then?”

first impressions meant a lot to sakusa. he knew people wouldn’t normally use first dates as ‘testing grounds’ but that’s exactly how he saw it. and why shouldn’t he? people dated for a reason and if it didn’t work out, sakusa wouldn’t feel too bothered by it.

part of him did want the date to be unsuccessful because that meant he’d be back in the safe territory he knew so well. second dates, third dates, and everything after were uncharted territory for him. sakusa knew he’d only get more uncomfortable, except for the fact that your first date did go well. 

despite the fact that you were late, you made up for it by offering to buy him a coffee. you didn’t shirk away at sakusa’s bluntness, in fact, you seemed to take it in stride as just a part of him. you didn’t comment on or make fun of how he’d wipe his utensils with a clean napkin before eating with them, instead listening intently to what sakusa said about bacteria and utensil storage.

he went into the date with the expectation that he wouldn’t enjoy it as much, a prediction that he thought was fair enough for him to make. but when you asked if you could hold hands as he walked you home and sakusa looked uncomfortably at your hands, you smiled and held your hands out to him. sakusa stared at them for a moment before pulling out his pocket sanitizer and spraying your hands. he searched for any signs of slight annoyance on your face but there were none as you waved your hands to dry them.

“if you’re not too comfortable about holding my hand we can do this,” you offered, raising your pinky at him.

“isn’t this what children do?” sakusa quirked a brow.

“it can be something that we can do,” you smiled, your eyes an invitation to the uncharted waters that had started drawing sakusa in. 

it was a risk. but sakusa knew if he was careful, it could be a calculated one. so, he looped his pinky around yours and resumed walking.

as far as first dates go, this wasn’t so bad.

...

“another text omi-omi?” atsumu teased. sakusa scowled, ignoring his annoying teammate as he continued to type on his phone. the annoying part was that his annoying teammate was right and sakusa wondered if he looked too eager to check his phone right after practice

[from: y/n]

5:30 pm: hey sakusa! you’re probably still at practice but just wanted to wish you a good day. let me know if you still want to get dinner :)

it was just a short message but sakusa could still feel that uncomfortable stir in his stomach. the first time he felt that, back when you held pinkies on your first date, sakusa grew paranoid and looked up ‘strange stomach feelings’ on webMD the first chance he got. but it wasn’t anything physical, rather, it came from something else.

“shut up, atsumu,” sakusa drawled, trying to look disinterested as he typed up a quick response to your message, saying that he would be htere. 

“what did i tell you guys?” atsumu chided their fellow teammates. “i just knew y/n would be the one to capture our omi-omi’s heart.” 

“awww, they must be real special! when can we meet them!” bokuto begged, popping up beside sakusa.

“they didn’t capture anything and even if they did, i think they have better things to do,” sakusa gritted his teeth. 

although, he knew that eventually he would probably ask if you’d like to meet his teammates, probably after he’d invite you to watch one of his games. sakusa knew he wasn’t going too fast for his own liking and as he watched you enter the restaurant, once again late and slightly out of breath, he felt that slowly letting you into his life wasn’t such a bad thing. 

“sorry i’m late, again,” you sighed, smoothing down your windblown hair with a sheepish smile. 

“it’s alright,” sakusa said, removing his mask. “i took the liberty of ordering for you, if that’s alright.”

“is that so?” your bright eyes locked onto his. “well, let’s see if you’ve read my mind.”

“i could just ask the waiter to change your order,” sakusa offered.

“no, no! it could be like a game!” you shook your head. “don’t you want to play?” sakusa didn’t quite understand you, nor your game, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive as he waited for your order to come. you took one look at the food on your plate before flashing him a smile. 

“well, what do you know? it’s exactly what i wanted.”

sakusa didn’t why hearing that made him particularly happy. “this wasn’t much of a game, to be honest,” he murmured.

“is it because there aren’t really stakes?” you asked.

“precisely.” 

there was something playful in the way you looked at him. “if you really like someone, there are always stakes.” 

...

sakusa knew just what you meant, he was in uncharted waters after all. but that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn how to sail in such places. he also came to realize that it wasn’t just him letting you into his life, but you letting him into yours. sakusa expected that you were a bit of an extrovert with how openly you talked to him, only to find that you did have a secretive side. the most you’d talk about were your co-workers who got on your nerves or how you wished there were more hours in a day. sakusa noticed that you often dodged around questions, focusing on him instead. knowing how much he valued his own privacy, sakusa let you have your own.

which was why he knew that the two of you had gone through a certain ‘dating milestone’ after you introduced him to your friends. sakusa didn’t really like how everyone focused on him being a germophobe and how the conversation seemed to revolve around just that, which was why he appreciated you being there to steer the discussion topic away. but sakusa made an effort not to be his usual self because he knew how important it was for you to bring him into your world.

“i bet you’re glad that’s over,” you chuckled after the two of you left the cafe. once again, sakusa offered to walk you home.

“it wasn’t that bad,” he murmured. 

“that’s a compliment from you,” you giggled, linking your pinky with his as you walked. sakusa would rather die than let anyone on the MSBY Jackals team see him like this, but for you he’d take that risk. 

“hey,” sakusa suddenly stopped, tugging you to look at him. curiously, you obliged. “i... know i’m not really the gentle boyfriend type but... you can ask and expect for things, you know? people tend to side-step around me knowing the kind of person i am, well except for my teammates but, you don’t have to all the time.” 

you blinked in mild surprise before asking. “so, can i be selfish then?” your eyes gave away your intentions and sakusa loved how he was able to read you and already pulled down his mask from his face. 

sakusa had always been creeped out by the thought of kissing people but as he kissed you, it didn’t feel like he was missing out. rather, it was as if it was happening at the right moment.

“can i be selfish again?” you whispered after you and sakusa parted. 

“i already have half a guess as to what you’re going to ask,” sakusa smirked.

“can i stay over at your place?”

...

sakusa knew that things would be a little different after you spent your first night together, but he didn’t think they’d be like this. for one, your messages to him dwindled into one-line sentences or phrases, before disappearing completely. sakusa wondered if he had done something wrong. no, he was absolutely sure that he had done something wrong and had no idea how to fix things. 

he wasn’t much of a social media user and sakusa didn’t want to be the type of person who’d get angry at someone for tweeting while waiting on a message from them. he thought it would be low of him to call you out in a semi-public space so he’d end up liking your tweets in the hope of getting your attention to no avail.

what had happened?

“hey, sakusa...”

“atsumu, i don’t need this right now,” sakusa grumbled, scrolling through his unanswered messages again before realizing that atsumu didn’t use his usual nickname. he looked up from his phone to find a look of regret on his teammate’s face.

“listen, i... i’ve only heard about y/n from a friend of a friend so i really didn’t know about this...”

“know about what?” sakusa asked, despite the feeling in his gut that he wouldn’t like what he was going to hear. 

“i... don’t know if it’s better for me to show it to you--”

“do it,” sakusa clenched his jaw and nodded resolutely. “i want to see.” 

atsumu took his phone out of his bag and opened what appeared to be instagram. sakusa didn’t have one and he quickly realized that it was to your advantage. 

if he had known about the things you’d post on your stories, sakusa would have broken up with you a long time ago.

...

the club where you were in was miles different from the cozy, little cafe where sakusa first met you. it felt like some sick parallel twist and this only fueled sakusa’s anger and motivation to squeeze past the moving bodies until he finally made his way to where you were.

now all his questions and suspicions had been answered and sakusa was practically beating himself up for not realizing things sooner. when he reached the bar counter where you were seated, engaged in more than just a deep conversation with another man, sakusa didn’t even hold back.

“you’re a bitch, you know that?”

“ah, sakusa,” you regarded him calmly. “what are you doing here? this doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”

“yeah, and you knew that, didn’t you? you took advantage of it,” sakusa practically spat, hoping that his words would deal a blow but your face remained expressionless. 

“i’m sorry but it was just all too easy,” you chuckled, crossing your legs over each other. 

as angry as he was, sakusa couldn’t help but feel the cold reality of despair. he didn’t want to be right about his suspicions. he wanted to be optimistic after your first few dates went so well. he desperately searched your face for the person he had linked pinkies with and exchanged messages with and had his first time with.

they weren’t even real in the first place. 

“you never did love me, did you?” sakusa asked aloud. your laugh was the only response he needed.

“if it’s any comfort, you were one of my favorites,” you cocked your head at him. “oh, and maybe try not to be so guarded around the next person you’ll date. it’s a bit of a turn-off, really.”

sakusa narrowed his eyes as he looked down at you. “the next one won’t be like you.” 

“how can you be so sure?” 

sakusa scoffed and turned around. the pain was overwhelming, but the spite even more so. you were the kind of person who thrived off toying with other people and giving in to rage would only satisfy you further. sakusa wasn’t inclined to grant you that.

“because...” he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and turned around. “lowlifes like you surely are one of a kind.” 

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event taglist: @himikadafangirl @swoona-rintarou @l-dokisaki-l @laure-chan @aonenthusiast @ah-kaashi @just-a-gay-bean @linyu-sees-you @alto-march-of-death @newfriendjen @shrimpypenis​ @tenyafacesquish​ @mkkhaikyuu​

taglist applications still open! just answer this form

[zalrb]

OKAY. SINCE ANONS SEEM TO BE INTERESTED. HERE IS MY DAWSON’S CREEK 1X01 REVIEW.

@jayciethings​ IF YOU ARE INTERESTED.

1. I think the opening scene does a good job in establishing the central struggle of the season and it does it in 3 minutes: 1) things need to change and Joey wants them to 2) Dawson doesn’t see why anything has to change and doesn’t see what Joey is trying to say 3) burgeoning sexuality 4) Joey-Dawson friendship.

2. I also think the Joey-Dawson friendship is also established really well and it’s actually a time where dialogue and action work in tandem. They give a brief history/overview of their friendship: “you’ve been sleeping over since you were 7″ “i’ve seen you pick your nose, scratch your butt” while also showing them watch tv, playfight and ultimately end up sleeping in the same bed, like they did when they were 7.

3. I actually don’t find the dialogue as annoying right now.

4. I will forever be angry that they didn’t pay to have the original music with their scenes because Dawson’s Creek is not Dawson’s Creek without “I Don’t Wanna Wait”.

5. “He did it again, he grabbed my ass.” “Like you even have one.” Joshua’s delivery is perfect because it’s resigned and un-offended.

6. “I’m Jen.” “Oh right, the granddaughter from New York.” That actually isn’t clunky. It’s a good way to do exposition.

7. “You look different.” “Puberty.” LOL Joey Whitter sass.

8. Honestly, at least so far, Joey’s behaviour makes sense for a 15 year old girl who is in love with her best friend who doesn’t see her as a sexual being and then has to watch him salivate over The New Girl. No, that isn’t Jen’s fault but sometimes people on this site act like teenagers or adults for that matter don’t have messy and not-so-great emotions/reactions to things. Unless, apparently, they’re men who are rapists and serial killers, then the understanding is boundless.

9. It’s actually refreshing to hear “Mr. Leery” “Mrs. Leery” since teens in shows now just call adults by their first names, which I would NEVER do. I still can’t do that. If I had to address initiumseries’ dad it would be Mr...

10. I also think it’s funny that this dialogue is being made fun of but this kind of cadence and irony is the kind of thing shows go for now -- Riverdale tries to emulate this and I would argue Euphoria tries to do an edgier version of this. Like Nellie insulting Pacey, that kind of tone is what they’re trying to go for with Cheryl.

11. I’ll admit this is more fun than I thought it would be so far.

12.  I LOVE WHAT’S EDGY FOR THE NINETIES. SHE IS IN A SUNDRESS. SETTLE DOWN.

13. “I have it on pretty good authority that mothers have excellent sex.” LOL Pacey, dick move.

14. Renting The Graduate, how on the nose.

15. THEIR CLOTHES ARE SO 90s.

16. The soundtrack pisses me off so much.

17. Oh Dawson. I knew so many self-important, I’m-so-deep-I-like-these-kinds-of-movies or -this-kind-of-music boys in high school. Like I find it so typical that he thinks his obsession with Spielberg would interest Jen.

18. Dawson taking Jen to his studio is like Klaus taking Caroline to sees his drawings.

19. Oh man, I remember being a kid and watching these teen shows with my cousin and seeing how Capeside High School was with everyone on a quad and throwing footballs and being like HIGH SCHOOL IS GOING TO BE LIKE THAT and my cousin just being like

20. I like how Dawson’s Creek is the whitest show and they still managed to have more Black extras than Gilmore Girls.

21. Dawson and Jen actually have a nice chemistry. But everyone is coming on super strong with Jen and she’s just kind of like, this seems normal.

22. The film teacher is a dick for no reason. I’ve had my fair share of dickish teachers but this is excessive right off the bat.

23. Lol poor Jen, she really is trying with Joey.

24. I like how a status of Joey’s class is the fact that her sister is engaged to a Black man *eye roll*

25. I don’t know of any school where teachers ate in the cafeteria with the students. In my school there were teachers who supervised the cafeteria but that’s it. Wow, I spent like no time in my high school cafeteria.

26. “I’m having a climax issue”

27.  Tamara, Ms. Jacobs, you should be in jail.

28. I like how this school LOOKS like a school.

29. Ugh, a trans jokes. Ugh, there was so much of that in the 90s.

30. “Nothing has to change. We can talk about anything.” Honestly, from a screenwriting point of view, this is a solid pilot. I remember in a screenwriting class I took, we studied The Social Network and every 10 pages someone calls Zuckerberg either an asshole or a jerk or something in that vein as a way to reiterate a key part of the theme of the movie and while I don’t have the pilot script in front of me, DC does reiterate the theme of the season frequently without it being repetitive.

31. The dialogue isn’t as hyperbolic as I remember tbh. And I’m going to say it again, shows are aiming for this, even the one episode I saw of the Winx Saga, when they try to flirt about mansplaining, when she’s fighting with her mom about how she’s not a feminist, they’re trying for this. But DC manages to make it more natural and it’s because the Core 4 have a charm. Even if you hate Dawson.

32. Who is Dawson’s dad. Is he in something else?

33. No, I just think he looks like Dr. Cox.

34. Dawson’s rant about sex not being important is hilarious. Yes, Dawson, you’re just pursuing Jen out of intellectual and philosophical desire.

35. I like how Joey is supposed to be a tomboy just because she’s the only girl/woman in Capeside who doesn’t wear a sundress.

36. Poor Jen.

37. Joey is super dramatic, I get that, but I kind of love it because I’m going RELAX but the way I would to a teenager. Like CALM. DOWN. Also “all I do is understand” is something that we needed to see more of before that argument.

38. Dawson, you never ask anyone else any questions about themselves, lol.

39. “How can you say you were just renting a movie??” Pacey is such a fifteen year old and I do wish the show would just ... let him be one? And what I mean by that is Pacey is supposed to be the friend with the edge, the fact that he “pursues” Ms Jacobs is supposed to attest to that fact, it’s framed as taboo and yet they’re presented as being on equal footing, even the way her date moves to grab him out of his seat when the fact of the matter is, he’s a kid, and if the show didn’t actually make the Tamara/Pacey relationship a storyline and made it about another way teenagers have certain idealized perceptions of relationships or apply kid knowledge to adult situations which still makes them kids, it would’ve been interesting too.

40. Dawson is literally dressed in different shades of beige. If that doesn’t say everything you need to know about his character --- which is intentional. But like jfc man.

41. I love that they can’t say “masturbate” so she has to say “walk your dog” I LOVE THE NINETIES.

42. And you know what, after that question was asked, the sheer heartbreak on Joey’s face and the sadness in Dawson’s eyes is done really well.

43. LMAO SO ANGSTY. No one does angst like the 90s.

44.  And legitimately, the ending of this pilot is great screenwriting because a change is noted, the beginning of the episode, Joey does end up staying the night, the end of the episode she leaves because they both realize it’s true that things are changing and yet Dawson answers her question about what time of day he masturbates and to who because they’re still Dawson and Joey. And that’s the way a pilot should be written.

OK. I’ve done it.

[yikesharringrove]

how do u feel abt doing smth like a modern au where billy is like , all this punk rock and teen angst and leather nd jean jackets kinda of thing and steve is the exact opposite of him with fluffy skirts and soft polos nd just really soft and they two have seen eachother but dont actually talk to one another until they have a school project and they just. fall in love overtime? basically , femme steve + punk rock billy falling in love.

(pt. 2) also!! happy 21st birthday 💓💕💗💖💕

The university had a strict core curriculum, meaning that Steve was ten minutes late for his Philosophy of the Modern Era class.

He couldn’t find the room, was wandering around in this basement with his schedule written on the back of his hand. He was peering at room numbers and muttering to himself 067 067 067.

“You looking for that philosophy class?” Steve turned around at the voice.

The guy was stomping down the hallway in big leather boots. His jeans were ripped and shredded, and he was wearing a black t-shirt with pink font reading Dog Park Dissidents. His denim jacket was covered in pins and patches and sharpie drawings. He had Silence = Death written on one of the pockets, Being nice IS punk rock was scrawled down one arm.

“Yeah, that modern era one?” The guy smiled and nodded, reaching forward to shake Steve’s hand. His eyes were a startling blue, lined with a thin smudge on black. His hair was wild and curly, shaved on each side into this beachy looking mohawk. He had his nose and his eyebrow pierced, along with several in his ears.

“Billy Hargrove.”

“Steve Harrington.” Steve could feel the tips of his ears go red as Billy looked him up and down. He was wearing something cute for the first day of class, a chunky white cardigan over a soft pink peasant dress. He had gotten up early to do his makeup well, and was late to class anyway because this stupid building was a fucking maze.

They set off down the hall together, looking at each door they passed by.

“Oh shit. Pretty Boy, I think I got it.” Steve flushed slightly at being called pretty, still not used to being able to dress like this in public. Billy wrenched open the door, and stomped in, not a care in the world for being twenty minutes late.

The professor raised his eyebrow.

“And what were you two doing out in the hall?”

“I’m sorry, we couldn’t find the room.” Steve’s cheeks were hot as he was standing at the front of the class.

“That’s okay. you have missed class introductions, to please say your names, pronouns and majors.”

“Billy Hargrove, he/him, double majoring in literature and social work.”

“Steve Harrington, he/they. I’m also a double major in education and early childhood development.” The professor made a note on his role sheet.

“Thank you, you may sit down.” Steve went for the back of the room, flopping into the first empty seat he could find, ducking his head as he quietly got his laptop out. Billy had stomped into the seat next to him, had gotten out a notebook and proceeded to doodle in it for the rest of class.

He sat next to Billy every Monday Wednesday and Friday from 9:20-10:35 and and outside of their ten minute search for the classroom, they had yet to say anything to one another.

It certainly didn’t help that Steve was harboring a little crush on the guy. He would watch him in class, the way he would doodle little sunflowers in the margins of his notes, smiling softly at them.

“So, for the rest of the semester you will be working in pairs. I want you to go through the readings we have completely and work together with the philosophers we have discussed to create your own system for the modern era. How do you believe society exists now?” Billy turned to Steve, grinning at him.

“You wanna be my partner?” Steve gave a sheepish smile, his heart racing.

“I, um. Yes. Yeah, I’ll be your partner.” Steve dug his phone out of the tight pocket of his skirt, trading with Billy. He put his number under Steve Harrington - Modern Era Philosphy.

“You wanna get coffee after class, start working through our beliefs?”

“Um, sure. I don’t have class until, like, 3:30 today.” Billy grinned again and fucking winked at Steve. He needed to calm the fuck down.

“So basically, a lot of my beliefs are based on the punk message.” Billy was sipping at his black coffee, had laughed and said should’ve fucking known when Steve ordered a large mocha with extra chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. “I’m a very live and let live person, but I believe everyone should live and let live. If someone is trying to dictate how others should exist, they’re fucking garbage.”

“Okay, I actually really agree with that.”

“That’s because you’re punk rock.” Steve laughed, but Billy’s eyes were serious. “No seriously, there’s nothing more punk rock than being unapologetically yourself.”

“When did you get into punk philosophy?”

“When I was in high school. My dad was a real prick, and I was angry, and a lot of punk is loud and pissed off and it helped, but then I started going to shows, and talking to people, and it’s not what you’d expect. Everyone at a show is like a weird family for a night. If someone comes in and tries to fuck with someone, the family deals. I can’t tell you how many fights I saw that broke out because someone was perving on a girl, and these other guys started protecting her. And that only grew as I started getting into queercore.”

Steve was listening to Billy, eyes wide as he described stories from shows, how he had jumped in on fights to defend the family, how he would walk girls home or to their cars parked a ways down the street, how he knew everyone would do the same for him.

“God, I wish I had a community like that. I didn’t really have anyone growing up. You know, token queer in a small town kinda vibe.” Billy smiled at him sympathetically.

“That why you came out to San Fransisco?”

“Oh yeah. Wanted to come somewhere where, this, didn’t matter.” He gestured to himself. “I just don’t get why it bothers people. I just do it because it makes me happy. I don’t know why it concerns anyone else.” Billy was nodding vigorously.

“Exactly. That’s the whole truth about being queer. People hate you for something that has nothing to do with them. It’s completely wack. Like if I’m with someone in whatever capacity, we’re both consenting adults. It literally doesn’t matter.”

“Do you think we could expand upon this enough for our project? Talk about how we feel the world should just stop caring about what other people do if it has nothing to do with them.” Billy grinned.

“I think we could make something happen.”

They began getting coffee after each class, taking through their project, finding resources to back up the ideas they had discussed. The more time they spent together, the more Steve liked Billy, liked how sweet he was, how positive. They talked about having terrible parents, how Billy’s dad had kicked him out at sixteen for being gay, how he had lived with friends, saving up to get himself through college. They talked about how Steve’s dad had found his stash of makeup and threw it all away, making sure it was ruined and broken. How disappointed his father was that he was studying to become a teacher.

There was one Friday they had met up and stayed all day in the coffee shop stayed until the 5 pm closing.

“You wanna come over? I have a single room. We can keep working.” Billy grinned at Steve like he always did, showing off all his white teeth. So they walked side by side to Steve’s room.

Steve kept his room neat, a habit left over from overbearing parents who would shame him into cleaning his room.

Steve’s room was exactly how Billy imagined.

He had soft white lights, a full length mirror on one wall. His bed was covered in pillows, duvets, and even a few stuffed animals. The wall above the bed was covered in pictures of Steve back home, several with a group of younger kids, and a lot with a blonde girl.

“This your girlfriend?” Steve snorted.

“No, that’s Robin. She and I are just really close friends.”

“What’s with the kids?” Steve blushed.

“I babysat all through high school, and those kids kinda adopted me as their pseudo parent. It was a lot of driving them all over town.”

“That’s cute. That why you wanna teach?”

“Yeah, I’m good with kids.” Steve had plopped himself on the made bed. He watched as Billy took off his heavy boots, placing them neatly by the door before stepping onto Steve’s plush grey rug. His socks were thick wool and had little cartoon dogs on them. Steve was in love.

Billy sat with Steve on the bed. He was taking a closer look at the photos.

“I could see that for you. You’re a caring type.” Steve looked down as his feet, could feel his face getting hot.

“Why did you pick social work?”

“When I was a kid, CPS would be called to our place like, once every few months. My dad was a real good schmoozer, so I would always just be left with him. I wanna be able to help kids get out of bad situations.”

“God, and you call me a caring type. You’re gonna save the world.” Billy laughed.

“The children are the future. I’ll save ‘em, you teach ‘em.” When Steve looked up, Billy was leaning closer into Steve’s space. He had a soft smile on his face. His eyes were bright and beautiful and so fucking blue. “Can I kiss you?”

“Can you, what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Why?” Billy still hadn’t leaned back.

“‘Cause I have a big dumb crush on you, and I think you have one on me.” Steve’s face was pink.

“I, uh, yeah. Go, go for it.” Billy laughed, taking Steve’s face in both hands. He leaned in, just gently pressing their lips together.

“So, was I right?”

“Yes. Very much so.” Billy laughed again, loud and sweet, pressing another kiss to Steve’s lips.

“You wanna go on a date? A real one? Not just us getting coffee and pretending we both weren’t totally into each other.” Steve snorted again.

“Yeah, I would really like that.”

[crazy-fan-girl-c137]

Happy Birthday (Connor x Reader)

Note: So, I decided to also write a very short, one shot fanfic from DBH fandom because I've been obsessing with it AGAIN. Thank to DE. Haha! Anyway, I had this idea because it's my birthday and that inspired to write this short fic.

To anyone who's also celebrating their birthday today...HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 🎉🎈🎂♥

P.S. Sorry for the bad grammar. English isn't my mother tongue. Also, I am not a writer. I'm an artist. I draw and design stuff. I just really like writing. 😂😂😂

Pairing: Connor x Reader

Word Count: 1,879

Also: L/N = Last Name and N/N = Nickname

~

It's your birthday. But to you, it's just like any ordinary day.

You never told anyone your birthday because you never celebrated it. Not because you hated it, or you're trying to get out of the responsibility of treating your friends for a drink or something. It's just that, you didn't see the point of occasionally celebrating it.

And it wasn't just your birthday that you don't celebrate, even the holidays.

So, despite it being your birthday, you treated the day just like any other work day. Besides, you were too busy finishing all your reports that's due that day. You didn't have time to get distracted because you didn't want Fowler yelling at you again.

It was already late at night. You, and a few other people were the only ones left at the precinct. You just finished typing the last report of the day when someone suddenly tapped your shoulders.

You flinched in shock before you turned your chair to see who it was. "Connor?"

Connor stood in front of you, a large box on his arms. "Happy birthday, detective L/N!"

You stared at him, blinking a few times. You were dumbfounded. "How did you- nevermind." You cut yourself off, reminding yourself that Connor still is an android, despite him turning into a deviant. He probably got that information from your profile.

"Here, open it." He urged like a child excited for their Christmas present, as he handed you the large box.

Despite your tiredness and sleepiness, as soon as you opened the box, you're face lit up. "You didn't." You told him as you pulled out a German Shepherd puppy from the box. "Connor…"

"I've noticed that you always volunteer to look after Sumo when Hank and I are away. And you always stop on your tracks to pet a dog when you're walking outside. I also saw on your social media accounts that you used to have a German Shepherd named Max when you were 12 years old." Connor informed.

"Wow." You chuckled. "You really did your research."

"I wanted to give you the perfect gift."

You almost blushed at his statement. You've been attracted to him ever since you started working as a detective. But you never acknowledge it because you wanted to focus on your work.

But lately, he had been acting kinder and sweeter to you, which makes it difficult for you to ignore you feelings. It makes you wonder…does Connor like me too?

"This is perfect. Thank you, Connor." You replied, giving him a genuine smile.

He stared at you for a few seconds, his LED flickering to yellow, before he finally spoke. "You're welcome, Detective L/N."

"I told you. Just call me N/N."

"N/N." He repeated, the corner of his lips forming a small smile. "What would you name your dog?" He curiously asked.

"I'm not sure yet. Why don't you name it?" You suggested.

You watched as Connor's LED flickered to yellow once more, then back to blue. "What about Happy?"

"Happy." You smiled. "Why Happy?"

"Because I noticed how your mood improved when you saw him. You were happy. He makes you happy."

"You make me happy, Connor." You replied. But your eyes immediately widened as soon as you realized what you just said. "I-I mean-" You stuttered, trying to make your situation less awkward.

But Connor had cut you off. "Seeing you happy makes me happy." He replied with a smile. A real, humanly smile.

And it made your heart flutter as your cheeks finally blush.

"Where's Hank?" You asked, trying to hide your blush as you cradled the puppy on your arms.

Connor's eyes widened as if he was just reminded of something. "Let's go to Jimmy's Bar."

"What?" You looked at him with a confused expression on your face.

"It's your birthday, we should celebrate."

~

You told Connor that you still had to finalize your reports, but he insisted on waiting for you. You didn't want to bother his precious time, so you tried to reason. But after several attempts, and him bring stubborn, you finally gave up.

It only took you about 30 minutes before you finished finalizing your reports and sending it to Fowler. You and Connor finally left the precinct after that, and drove to Jimmy's Bar using your car. You didn't expect anything from there, except maybe having a drink with Connor, even though he's incapable of it.

But when both of you got there, you were surprised to see a crowd of people greeting you; All your close friends at the precinct was present.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" They all yelled as soon as you walked in.

"What…" You were at a loss for words. You were astonished. You never thought this would ever happened to you.

"What? You think you can just go home and not celebrate your own birthday?" Hank teased.

"How did…"

"Connor told us."

You turned to Connor, and he had the goofiest grin on his face. You felt your heart flutter once again, another blush creeping into your cheeks.

Everyone greeted you, coming up to you one by one, and presenting you their own gifts. You almost cried. You never had a birthday party as an adult. The last birthday party you had was when you were still little. You didn't even expect anyone would be throwing a party for you.

And just like a normal birthday party, they had a cake prepared for you to make a wish on as they sing Happy Birthday.

~

You spend the whole night chatting and laughing with your friends, while drinking beers and sharing the large cake they bought for you. And finally, after a few hours of partying, everyone started to go home, wishing one last happy birthday.

It is work night anyways.

It came to a point where it was only you, Hank, Connor and Jimmy was left at the bar.

"Alright. I think I've had enough for the night." Hank announced, standing up from his seat while taking one last sip at his drink.

"Is Connor going to drive you home?" You asked as you walk him out of the bar. Of course, you were concerned for him. He's like a father figure to you. Just like he is to Connor.

"Kid. I always drive home drunk." He replied confidently, making you chuckle. "Where is that android anyway?"

"I think he's discussing something with Jimmy." You replied, pointing back at the bar.

"So, he got you the dog eh?" He asked, scratching the ears of the puppy that you were cradling on your arms.

"Yeah." You smiled, looking down at Happy, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks as it reminded you of earlier events.

"You know, this was all Connor's idea." Hank suddenly said, making you snap your head at him.

Your eyes widened as you stared. "What?" You asked in disbelief.

You thought it was like a group idea. Like all your friends gathered up to make this party happen. You didn't know this was all Connor's.

"He organized all of this. Even paid for everything. Lover boy's got it hard for you." Hank chuckled.

Before you could say anything, Connor came out of the bar, approaching you and Hank.

"Hey, Connor. I was just about to leave." Hank greeted.

"Okay." He nodded. "Is everything alright, N/N?" He asked in concern as he noticed you staring at him with a surprised expression written all over your face.

"I-I'm fine." You replied after a few seconds.

"She's just tired." Hank added, helping you out on your situation. "Get her home safe, will you?"

"Sure, Hank." Connor nodded.

"Alright. I'll see you kids tomorrow. Good night." Hank waved both of you good night as he walked to his car.

"Good night."

~

"Did you like your gift, N/N?" Connor curiously asked as he drove you back to your place.

"I love it." You replied, smiling at him. "Thank you for tonight, Connor."

"You're welcome, N/N."

It wasn't a long ride to your home. You and Connor spent the rest of it in comfortable silence as you listen to whatever was on the radio. And finally, after 15 minutes, you arrived.

Connor walked you to your front door, helping you carry all the gifts you recieved from your friends.

But before you unlock the door, you turned to him and asked, "Why did you do this? I mean, I appreciate it so much. I'm just curious because no one ever done this for me before."

Connor placed down the gifts he was carrying. He didn't respond immediately though. He just stared at you for a while as if he was in deep thought. You watched as his LED turned from blue to yellow and then back to blue.

"Connor?" You asked.

And finally, he replied, "When you first came to the precinct, the moment I first saw you, I felt something that I didn't understand. It was a knew feeling that I've never felt before. I found myself constantly wanting your company, and wanting to make you smile. And when I asked Hank about it, he explained to me that what I was feeling is love. I asked him what love is for a human and he explained it to me. But, it was still a little confusing to me that time, that's why I never said anything to you.

When I found out that it's your birthday, I knew I had to do something special for you. Because that's how humans do it, and because you're special…to me. Then earlier this morning, I realized what Hank was telling me before about love. I now understood what he meant. That's why I knew I have to finally tell you that…I love you."

You felt your heart bursted inside your chest. An overwhelming excitement and happiness filled your emotions. You couldn't help but pull Connor into a kiss. You felt his lips on yours. It was cold but soft.

He didn't move for a few seconds, and you thought he had short circuited. You noticed the light from his LED turning yellow, to red, to yellow, and back to blue. But when you were about to pull from the kiss, his hands slowly snaked it's way from your waist to your back. He pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss as he finally responded back.

You felt like you were in the old movies. Fireworks exploded inside you. Your heart beat fast and your stomach turned into a knot. His lips was soft against yours, like a delicate butterfly fluttering its wings. It wasn't like anything you felt before.

After a while, you pulled back to catch your breath. A smile creeped on both your faces as you rested your forehead on his.

"Humans said that the first kiss is the best kiss. And I strongly agree with that." He told you, making you chuckle.

"Is this your first kiss ever?" You asked, lightly pulling your face away to take a better look at him.

"It is."

"Well," You replied, planting another soft kiss on his. "it's not going to be the only kiss."

He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, LED turning yellow. "What do you mean?" He curiously asked.

"I love you too, Connor."

[goffilolo]

Revival of Midoriya Izuku chapter 3

It’s been 84 years huh? As always the fanfic is up on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/52652386

also im aware of like some formatting issues with the fic when it comes to tumblr, so reading it on ao3 might be better if you particularly care about like italics and what not, but otherwise it’s all the same stuff.

“Move your ass Boom Boom Bitch, I wanna get there early!” shouted Izuku, as him and Bandit sat on rather stylish, but uncomfortable couch in the Bakugous’ living room that was probably worth more than both of them put together, which probably wasn’t even that much anyway since they’re both garbage, but it’s about the principle of the thing.

“Shut your mouth you Trash Twink, I’ll get there when I get there! And what the fuck are you doing in my house?” screamed Bakugou all the way from upstairs, although with his voice being as explosive as his quirk he might as well be standing right next to you considering the damage he does to everyone’s eardrums.

Speaking of hearing damage “Katsuki!!! Is that how you talk to our guest you rude brat?! Get over here!” exclaimed Aunt Mitsuki.

“Shut it old hag! Deku’s not a guest, he’s just an annoying cockroach that invites himself wherever he wants and does whatever he wants!” which is a fair point, considering Izuku has invited himself to Bakugou’s first day at UA for less than wholesome reasons. Some people might see it as the ultimate bitch slap to Bakugou’s ego (partially true), but for the most part it’s merely a testament of how far Izuku has come, considering he now only sees UA as a place where he can flirt with Tensei’s hot brother, rather than a means of accomplishing some bullshit dreams... But it’s not like Kacchan knows any of this, so he can fuck off.

If you were to ask Izuku what his deal with Bakugou was, he would reply “Best friends, duh” with enough sarcasm to last you the next ten years. If you were to press for any specifics his reply would be more along the lines of “I dunno, get the fuck out of my apartment” followed by having Trash Bandit sent after you. The bottom line was, his relationship with Bakugou was complicated, as were most thing in Izuku’s life, but that’s not unusual.

Izuku’s presence at the Bakugou household though? That’s quite unusual, yet more likely than you’d think.

And although the screaming match between the two Bakugous was ever so entertaining Izuku had places to be, and guys to seduce, so “Leave it Auntie” he exclaims in a dismissive manner “We don’t want to rile him up too much, otherwise he ain’t gonna get that 30-day chip from the anger management that he’s been gunnin’ for” he adds half-jokingly.

“I know, I know” she says “But you’d think he would act a little nicer by now, after all these months of therapy.”

“Wouldn’t expect miracles if I were you Auntie, you know what the say; Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree ” replies the boy with a shiteating grin as he motions towards Bakugou descending down the stairs, not missing the way Mitsuki flinched ever so slightly at his rather obnoxious comment.

“And to think you used to be such a nice boy yourself, I used to always tell your mother how great it would’ve been if Katsuki was more like you” she says in a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and regret.

“Yeah well, considering the shit I got for being nice , I think from now on I’d rather be a bastard and then some” exclaimed Izuku as he got up from the couch with Bandit in tow and made his way towards Bakugou. The other boy was getting ready to leave as well and his excitement for the day was concealed even more poorly than his mother’s discomfort at the current conversation “Have a good one Auntie!”

And with that, the two teenagers and one (1) sheep were on their way.

“Kacchan please , not everything is about you” said Izuku exasperatedly, hurrying over to the only empty seat on the train.

“Like hell it isn’t! This was supposed to be MY DAY, my first day at the school of my fucking dreams, and you’re trying to ruin it by following me around dressed like a dollar stripper!” replied Bakugou in a whisper-scream. He may have anger issues but he wasn’t a dumbass and the two of them were already drawing enough attention as it was. It wasn’t exactly easy to remain unnoticed on a train while carrying a green sheep; a task which fell on Bakugou, because Izuku was a weak-noodle-arm-bitch.

“First of all, I’m flattered that you think I’m worth a dollar” said the weak-noodle-arm-bitch in question “And second of all, this is my best outfit.” Said best outfit consisted of a worn out tank top that had THE HOES written on it in what once was a glittery pink; a pair of booty shorts with ENEMY OF STATE hand stitched onto the backside and rainbow patterned knee socks. The look was completed with a pair of pink platform crocs, because Izuku had standards ... and because he was short.

“God I hate you” murmured Bakugou.

“Don’t I know it Kacchan?”

The rest of the train ride was spent in silence.

It wasn’t until they actually reached the gates of the school that Bakugou had a thought; one that he probably should’ve had before they even left his house, but having a coherent thought while carrying a sheep and bickering with the sheep’s owner about whether the sheep should be referred to as a dog or not is in all fairness not possible.

“They won’t let you in” he said, voicing the sudden epiphany.

“Sure they will” replied Izuku.

“Oh yeah? How? Deku, you don’t fuckin’ go to this school, you don’t go to ANY school!” shouted Bakugou, because they were no longer on the train, therefore arguing with a lunatic stripper looking guy was now acceptable.

Izuku for the most part did not have a problem with that, because not only did he love having petty fights with people, he also loved proving them wrong, especially when everyone and their grandma accuses him of being a high school drop out.

“Shinjuku Metropolitan would beg to differ” he says, dropping the metaphorical bomb on the unsuspecting dipshit that is his childhood friend, after which he continues to walk, crossing the gates of UA High like he owns the damn place.

After about a minute of Bakugou standing frozen in shock, he finally snapped out of it when Bandit decided to start chewing on his uniform “Oi, hold the fuck up!” screamed the blond as he followed Izuku inside, while the sheep was being dragged along like a betrayed ragdoll  “Did you just say Shinjuku Metropolitan?!”

“Kacchan, you know I can’t hold you, you’re too heavy” replies the other teen, while pointedly ignoring Bakugou’s question and the looks he’s been getting from the students.

“Don’t change the subject shitty Deku! How the fuck did your ass get into a top non-hero high school in the whole damn Tokyo you bitch?”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“I fuckin’ swear to God-”

“Do it! Pull the trigger piglet!”

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

Their pointless quarrel, which was on a steady way into becoming a straight up brawl (Izuku having already pulled out his axe and lighted a cigarette using one of Bakugou’s warning explosions) came to a stop when they were interrupted by one of UA’s teachers, although in Izuku’s opinion she made a wrong career choice, considering being a Dominatrix probably paid more.

On another note, when someone asks you ‘what’s going on?’ that doesn’t mean they’re actually interested in whatever is happening at the moment, it means ‘stop’, therefore Izuku’s answer to that question, which usually involves something along the lines of “You see, I’m small, horny and full of rage, and I have no outlet for these emotions” is rarely appreciated. That is not to say that the lack of appreciation is going to stop him from spawning whatever dumb shit comes to his mind when faced with the judgement from authority figures. If anything it makes everything worse.

“That’s just how we flirt” replied the teen instead, all the while looking THE Pro-Hero Midnight dead in the eye and putting out his cigarette on Bakugou’s uniform jacket. Bakugou, for the most part was unable to even be mad at the cigarette burn considering he was busy recovering from being metaphorically punched in the kidneys by that line.

“And why aren’t you wearing uniform?” she asks suspiciously, pointing at Izuku’s attire.

“Oh, I don’t go here” he replied casually.

“Then pray tell , why are you in this school?”

“To get laid”

“TO WHAT?!” screamed Bakugou in surprise.

At this point Midnight took out her phone (no, her costume doesn’t have pockets, please don’t ask where she keeps it) and clicked on one of three contacts she keeps on her speed dial.

“Principal Nedzu, we got a situation…”

After telling Bakugou not to worry and that he will see him later in class, Izuku was dragged to the principal’s office by Midnight.

On the way there he tried cracking up another joke, telling her that his safe word was ‘avocado’. She did not appreciate that one either. For those of you wondering what happened to Bandit, the sheep ended up following Bakugou, much to the blond’s dismay.

Now, being sent to a principal’s office, especially of a school that you don’t even attend is usually a sign that you have royally fucked up. Not for Izuku though, because he had a plan! Contrary to the common belief, Izuku is not dumb. The fall didn’t kill off any of his brain cells, only his ability to give a shit, which made life much easier since he no longer had to worry about things like: people’s opinions, social norms, laws and heteronormativity.

Anyway, back to the plan. Izuku was not dumb, therefore even he knew that wandering around UA while not attending the school would not fly. He needed a way to stay, and for that he needed the guy who runs the whole shitshow; Nedzu.

Which is why the moment Midnight opens the door to the office Izuku stomps in like a man on a mission and stops right in front of an animal of questionable origin in a suit that is allegedly UA’s principal. A little unusual, but if a scumbag like Endeavour can hold the title of No. 2 Hero in Japan, then an animal can run a school.

The principal in question was calmly sitting on a couch and drinking tea, totally unconcerned with whatever bullshit Izuku was about to throw at him.

“Now, what seems to be the issue with this young man?” asked Nedzu.

“This young man-” said Izuku, pointing to himself in a rather cocky manner “has a message for you!”

“And what would that message be?”

The principal’s question was answered with what Izuku can only think of as the ultimate power move, or in this case; a literal ace up the sleeve. The boy proceeded to pull out a Monopoly “Get out of Jail” card out of his shorts (since he technically wasn’t wearing any sleeves) and slam it on the table right in front of Nedzu.

While to an outsider the current situation might seem absurd, it is important to remember that Izuku had a plan; one that could’ve never come to a fruition without a little help from the most unexpected person, which is why that card was no ordinary Monopoly card, but a very specific reminder that only Principal Nedzu would know the meaning of, and when he picked it up and flipped it around, the neatly written message on the back made its presence known.

It read: “You owe me one. - Hisashi”

“My dad says ‘Hi!’ ” exclaimed Izuku, taking one look at Nedzu’s face and knowing that he already won.

Was cashing in on a favour that his dad secured like 10 years ago a morally good decision? Debatable, but it got the job done so he’s not gonna complain. All that mattered was that Izuku now had a pass to enter the UA grounds whenever he pleased and nobody could stop him, and so here he was about to enter the classroom where Kacchan is supposed to be in. The bell hasn’t rung yet so he still had some time and who knows, maybe the handsome guy from the police station was in the same class?

With that in mind he opened the gigantic door and made his way into the classroom and was met with what looked like a pissing contest between his crush and his childhood friend.

“REMOVE YOUR FOOT FROM THAT DESK! SUCH AN ACTION IS INSULTING TO THOSE WHO CAME TO UA BEFORE US AS WELL AS THE CRAFTSMEN WHO MADE THIS DESK!”

“LIKE I CARE! WHAT MIDDLE SCHOOL ARE YOU FROM, YOU EXTRA ?!”

Ah yes, pissing contest at its finest, which meant that Izuku had options . The most obvious course of action would be siding up with Tenya and taunting Kacchan, which is not something Izuku would ever say no to. However , it also happens that the object of his affections had a massive boner for rules and authority, which is the exact opposite of everything Izuku stands for, so siding up with Kacchan it is.

And so he made his way to the pair of bickering teenagers and promptly pushed Kacchan’s feet off the desk, earning a scoff from the blond and an approving but baffled look from Iida, which only lasted for about 2 seconds, because Izuku being the gay disaster that he is simply HAD to ruin it all by claiming the desk as his sitting spot and giving Tenya the most ridiculous bedroom eyes that had Kacchan fake gagging like his life depended on it.

“Umm...Izuku, was it?” asked Tenya, feeling awkward under the other boy’s intense gaze.

“It sure was” replied the boy, feeling happy about leaving enough of an impression to be remembered from all those weeks ago “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

“Indeed-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Deku!” exclaimed Bakugou, completely fed up with the cringeworthy display in front of him “Just tell four-eyes that you came here because you wanted to see him and be done with it!”

“WHAT?”

“Kacchan, not now! I’m trying to put on some moves!”

“Well your moves are shit-”

“Hey, aren’t you that guy from the news who stabbed a villain in the eye with an axe?!” shouted one of the students while pointing at Izuku. There was something ironic about the fact that it was his stunt on live TV from 2 weeks ago that got everyone’s heads turning and not his iconic outfit, or inappropriate behaviour, or literally anything else about him. Like that’s just rude ok? And interrupting him while he’s trying to flirt? Also rude.

“Bitch, I might be” he replied anyway, because his reputation was on the line and because at this point literally everyone has gathered around the desk that he sat on, so things were way past the point of return. People were throwing questions and accusations at him left and right, Trash Bandit is nowhere to be found and his quil flask is not full enough for this bullshit. At this point Bakugou simply got up from his seat and sat at the back of the room, as far away from this nonsense as possible.

“It’s you!”exclaimed the boy with dual coloured hair and equally mismatched eyes “You’re the guy who keeps T-posing in front of my house. Can you please stop?!” he asked with the most deadpan face Izuku has ever seen despite his voice being filled with desperation.

“Look, I T-pose in front of a lot of houses so you’re gonna have to be more specific” he replied sarcastically — despite knowing exactly who he was talking to — since it probably wasn’t a good moment to mention that you’re besties with that person’s mom because you were both stuck in the same loony bin and so you already know all the family drama and have dedicated a good portion of your time to harassing her abusive piece of shit husband…especially with like 20 people around you.

“You’re the one who egged my limo!” shouted one of the girls at the back. She was a very tall girl with long, dark hair tied in a seemingly gravity defying ponytail and a kind face. She had an air of a distinguished lesbian about her, which Izuku could respect even if she was rich if the limo comment was anything to go by. He egged several limos in his lifetime because seeing rich people out in public makes him go apeshit, as it should, so really how is he supposed to remember everyone?

“And I will egg it again!” promised Izuku “When I see rich people out and about it triggers my fight-or-fuck response”

“Don’t you mean fight-or-flight?” she asked.

“No”

“Are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest”

And with that more people joined in on the conversation, including a particular girl who very much looked like an alien with her bright pink skin and black sclera who ended up complementing his outfit, which thank fuck someone here actually had good taste , as well as a guy who ended up being Ms Shouji’s son, and the only reason he found out was because the guy recognised his antics based on the gossip his mom told him and isn’t that a small fuckin world? And in the middle of it all laid an inconspicuous yellow sleeping bag that has been conveniently ignored by everyone for the sake of the plot up until now.

The sleeping bag began to seemingly unzip by itself and soon enough Bandit’s head poked out of it.

“Bandit! There you are”

“Baaah!”

“Guys! Look at this dog!” exclaimed one of the students who Izuku thought looked like a personification of weed, but he wasn’t going to say that. At least the guy knew what he was talking about.

“I’m pretty certain it’s a sheep-” added Tenya, taking his role as the last standing voice of reason in this room very seriously, even though his voice has practically drowned in the sea of teenagers chanting ‘good doggo’, similarly to how one might feel if they were standing at a dance floor while Baby Got Back started playing.

It’s also important to note that while all of this was happening, Bakugou who has sat himself at the back of the room was forced to witness the chaotic force that is Izuku interacting with multiple people at once while being able to convince about 20 of them to refer to his sheep as a dog, and in that moment he turned around staring into the void and asked himself “Am I having a fuckin stroke?”

“Nah, he’s always like that” replied the one person who was sat at the back along with him that Bakugou previously did not bother to notice.

“And how would you know, you damn extra?” asked Bakugou somewhat offended, because sure him and Izuku were not on the friendliest terms and the whole incident from last year really changed him and what not. But they still knew each other their whole lives, so really that had to count for something and Bakugou was not willing to compromise on that with some random extra who looked like a Tinky Winky humansona on drugs.

Unfortunately Bakugou was not able to get an answer because the entire class was interrupted by a homeless looking guy coming out of the yellow sleeping bag to shame student kind. “If you’re here to socialise, then get out” he said. Soon enough the room was filled with a tense silence as the students were unsure of what to expect next.

“It took 8 seconds for you to quiet down. Time is a precious resource. You lot aren’t very rational, are you?” asked the man as he walked to the front of the classroom, making it very clear that he was in fact their teacher. The man was rather tall and unkept, his hair was long and slightly curled, similar to Izuku’s own and the outfit he wore could only be described as a goth onesie. There was something very familiar about him but Izuku couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to be.

However, just because Izuku’s memory aligns very closely with a slice of swiss cheese doesn’t mean that the same can be said about the teacher in question. As soon as he turned around to get a good look at his new class his eyes fell on Izuku and his face has swiftly shifted from that of practiced disinterest to shock and recognition that Izuku honestly was not expecting.

“What are you doing here problem child?” asked the man with a certain degree of disbelief in his voice. Once again there was something very familiar about him and the way he addressed Izuku and wait a minute did he just call me a problem child? That can’t be-

“Uncle Shouta” exclaimed the boy in a way that felt uncertain, yet childishly hopeful “Is that you?”

“Of course it is brat, who else would I be?” he replied with a hint of amusement.

[waywardaardvark79]

Come Hell or High Water Part 3: What if he’s a Monster?

Summary: Blackwick, Montana was going to be a fresh start for you and your five year old daughter. You moved in across the street from Officer Dean Winchester, and quickly found that you were able to help him. Will Dean be able to help you when your past comes back to haunt you?

Pairing: Dean x reader

 Warnings: implied nudity, hurt Dean

               Most of your morning was spent in your office, seeing patients and going over discharge instructions.  Aj popping into the room at least every 30 minutes asking if it was time to go see Rocky yet. She had talked nonstop about that dog since you had gotten back home yesterday, casually throwing in that she thought Sam was really nice, and Dean was kind of ok. 

You felt guilty for shooing her out of your office, but you had to work. You had just ended a call when she burst into the room again, "Is it time?" she asked.

 You spun around in your office chair, "Aj, honey, you gotta let me work." you said, your patience beginning to wear thin. 

"But you said we could go." she whined.

 You took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, reminding yourself that she was only five, and couldn't be expected to entertain herself all day. "We are gonna go, but later." you explained.

 "But I want to go now." she pouted. 

You stood up and walked over to her, "Why don't you draw them some pictures to take over later." you  suggested as you pulled some art supplies from one of the shelves in your office. 

You escorted her into the living room, and placed everything on the coffee table. "What should I draw?" she asked.

 "Make Dean a get well card." you quickly rushed out, as you heard another call coming in.

 "But Mom..." she started. 

"Aj just draw. Draw the dog." you said over your shoulder and you rushed back into your office. There was still two and a half weeks until school started and they couldn't come fast enough. 

         She had managed to interrupt you only a few times, mostly asking you to spell things for her, by the time lunch rolled around. You told her that after you guys ate lunch you could go over to check on Dean. You had never seen Aj eat so fast. You even managed to give her her shot without any fuss. She was too busy talking a million miles a minute about how much they were going to love her pictures. You told her to go get ready and you went into your office to pack a small bag, preferring your supplies over the ones that the hospital had sent. Aj skipped into your office, her little backpack slung over one shoulder, "Let's go." she said as she grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the door.

             You practically jogged down your driveway, across the road, and up Dean's drive, Aj eagerly leading the way. You came to an abrupt stop in front of the door, Aj raising her tiny fist to knock. The sound of Rocky's barking soon sounded through the closed door along with a muffled "Coming." 

Sam came to the door a few moments later, soaking wet. "Everything ok?" you asked as he stepped aside to let you in. 

"Umm...he wanted to take a shower, but it didn't go so well." Sam said. 

"Sam!Sam! I got you a present." Aj excitedly said. 

"You did?" he asked, water dripping from his hair. 

"Ok, you go change, and when you get back I'll go help Dean." you said. Sam returned a few moments later and pointed you in the direction of the bathroom as he led Aj into the kitchen. 

          You noticed that the bathroom door wasn't completely closed so you held onto the knob as you knocked, "Dean?" you called out. 

"Yeah." he said. 

You pushed open the door and kept your gaze straight ahead, expecting to see a naked Dean. You were a little shocked to see him still fully clothed, the lid to the toilet closed, and him sitting on it. "How did Sam get so wet?" you whispered to yourself.

 "What?" he asked.

 "Nothing. You want some help?" you asked.

 "I think there still needs to be a little mystery involved. You know,  leave something for imagination." he said.

 "Are you implying that I have imagined you naked?" you asked. Dean quickly began sputtering, desperately trying to come up with something to say. "Come on, Dean. I've seen a couple penises already today. What's one more?" you joked. Dean blushed and the tips of his ears quickly turned a shade of red. "Unclutch your pearls. I promise I'll keep your modesty in tact." you  said. Dean narrowed his eyes at you. "Oh come on. I know you've had the whole nurse, sponge bath fantasy before." you sassed. 

"You implying I've imagined you bathing me?" he asked, turning your words against you. 

You simply shrugged your shoulders, "Guess so." you said. 

Dean's eyes widened in surprise. He was expecting you to get flustered, not a nonchalant reply like you were simply discussing the weather. You snapped your fingers in front of his face pulling him from his thoughts, "You got a shower chair?" you asked.

 "A what?" he asked.

 "Sit tight. I'll be right back." you  said as you turned and left the bathroom. 

          Sam and Aj were seated on the couch, Aj eagerly explaining all of the pictures she had drawn. "Just gonna grab a chair." you  said as you walked by. You grabbed a wooden chair from the table and carried it back to the bathroom. 

You sat the chair in the shower, thankful that it was a walk in. "Let's get you out of these clothes." you said as you turned to him. 

Dean held up his hand to stop you, "Give me a play by play first." 

You rolled your eyes, "I already told you I can do it without seeing anything." you  said. 

You opened the bathroom closet and started pulling out towels, laying one down in front of the shower. "Look, we'll start with your shirt." you said. You helped him remove his shirt, and wrapped his cast in plastic. You helped him stand up and took in the bare, broad chest in front of you, "Got these freckles everywhere?" you asked with a wink. Dean blushed again, and you laughed, "You're too easy." you said as you grabbed a towel. "Alright I'll hold it up, and you shimmy outta those pants." you instructed as you held the towel in front of him. "I'll even close my eyes." You closed your eyes and waited for him to tell you he was ready. 

"What now?" he asked. 

You cracked open an eye, keeping it on his face. "Now we're gonna pivot, and you're gonna sit down in the chair." You watched as he nervously looked over at the chair. "You can do it, just hang on to me." you said. You instructed him to throw his bad arm over your shoulder, "Now just lean onto me and pivot a little." you said as you braced yourself to take his bodyweight.

 "I don't even know your last name." he grunted out. 

 "What?" you asked.

 "I'm naked and your pressed up against me, and I don't even know your last name." Dean said. 

"Y/L/N." you said. 

"Winchester." said Dean, offering his own last name as a reply.

  "Alright Winchester,  you feel the chair?" you asked. He nodded. "Sit." you said as you helped ease him down, while keeping the towel in place. You bent down, and lifted his leg to help him turn so that he was now fully in the shower. 

You grabbed the hand held shower head and faced it away from him, as you adjusted the temperature. "Ok, I'll get everything wet." you said before Dean quickly interrupted.

 "That's usually my job." he said with a cocky smirk. 

You laughed out loud, Dean breaking out in a full smile at the sound. "I'll get YOU wet, and then put the soap in your good hand for you to wash the important bits." you said emphasizing the word you, and then pointing to the towel over his lap. 

You had him test the water before you started to slowly rinse over him, avoiding his wrapped casts. "Hold out your hand." you said as you said as held out a bottle of body wash. You poured some in his hand and turned your back to give him some privacy. You washed his hair for him, and rinsed him off. Drying him off and getting him dressed actually went a little quicker, Dean actually trusting that you knew what you were doing.

         You had him completely dressed, and you opened the bathroom door to grab his chair. You helped him get in and pushed him down the hall to the living room. "Feel better?" Sam asked when he saw the two of you enter the room. 

"Like a new man, Sammy." said Dean. 

You pushed him to the couch, and Sam helped him onto it. Dean threw back his head and let out a deep breath. "I'll go grab your meds." you said as you walked into the kitchen, Sam quickly following after you. "I hate to ask, but do you think you could watch him for a little bit while I run to the store? We are kinda running out of things to eat." he said. 

"Go ahead." you said as you grabbed some water from the fridge.

 "I'll be right back." Sam said as he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

            You started to head in to give Dean his meds when you saw Aj sitting next to him on the couch. You stopped in the doorway and listened to her explain the pictures she had drawn for him. "That one is you and Rocky." she said as she handed him the paper.

 "Wow, you're good." he said as he looked it over. 

"And this one is me and Rocky." she said.

 You watched as he looked the picture over, "Did he catch a rabbit?" asked Dean pointing to the rabbit in front of Rocky. 

Aj shook her head and giggled, "No, that's my rabbit, Tom Petty." she explained.

 "Tom Petty?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. She nodded her head, "How do you know about Tom Petty?" he asked.

 "Momma sings it." she said. 

Dean laughed under his breath, "You're a pretty cool kid. So is your Mom." he said. 

Aj turned to face him, "I thought you was kind of mean at first, but I guess you're not so bad." she said.

 Dean laughed a full body laugh, and then quickly grimaced, the motion upsetting his injuries. You walked over to him and handed him the meds, "Here ya go." you said. He popped them into his mouth, and washed them down with the water you had brought him. "Sam ran to the store, so you're stuck with us for a little bit longer." you said as you sat down next to your daughter.

 "Could have worse company." he said.

          You and Dean watched as Aj played with Rocky, careful to avoid his still fresh wound, and mostly made small talk. Silence had fallen between the two of you when Dean finally spoke up, "So, your husband ok with you guys being here? I mean, I haven't even met the guy yet." he said.

 "Not married." you said, choosing to keep your answer short and sweet, no need to go into detail. 

"Boyfriend then?" he asked.

 "Don't have one of those either." you said

. Aj, hearing the conversation quickly piped in before Dean could say anything else, "I don't have a dad." she said before turning back to the dog. You felt Dean's eyes on you, knowing that he was itching to ask questions. You sent up a silent thank you when you heard the door open, and Sam announce that he was back. You quickly excused yourself, and headed into the kitchen, thankful for the excuse. You did not want them digging around in your past.

       You helped Sam put away the groceries. You watched as he sat aside two Hungry Man tv dinners. "That's what you're  eating?" you asked. 

Sam looked down at the dinners and shrugged, "It's quick and easy." he said. 

You shook your head, "Come over tonight around six. I'm not making anything special, but it's better than that." you said as you gestured to the dinners. 

"You don't have to." Sam started, but you quickly waved him off, "It's fine. Remember, I'm an excellent neighbor, and grown men need more to eat anyway." you said. 

Sam smiled and thanked you once more. You walked back into the living room, "Let's go, honey." you said to Aj. 

"But Mom, I'm busy." she said as she rolled over in the floor next to Rocky. 

"Ava." you warned. 

"Mooooooooom." she whined. 

"Ava Jeane." you sternly said.

 "Uh oh, she used the middle name. You better listen." said Dean from the couch. 

Aj pouted and sulked as she got up and walked over to you. "See you boys for dinner." you called over your shoulder before ushering Aj out and back home.

         You finished your work day a little later than usual, not having planned to stay at Dean's as long as you did. This led to a later start on dinner. You were in the middle of cooking when you heard your doorbell. Aj screaming, "I got it!!!" 

You hurried from the kitchen, "Aj, wait!!" you yelled as she pulled the door open to reveal Sam and Dean patiently waiting. Rocky poked his nose in the door and Aj shrieked.

 "Hope it's ok." said Dean. 

"It's fine. Let me help you guys get in." you said. 

Sam helped Dean stand, and basically lifted him up the few small steps and into the door, you following behind with his chair. Rocky was currently sniffing around your living room, Aj hot on his heels. "It's not quite ready yet. Make yourselves at home." you said before excusing yourself back to the kitchen. You knew that Aj would keep them entertained. 

             About twenty minutes later you poked your head into the living room, "Come eat." you said. You had removed one of the chairs from the kitchen table to make room for Dean and Aj quickly grabbed the seat next to him, Rocky curling up at their feet. Sam offered to help you dish everything up, "Sit down Sam. I got it." you said.

 A few moments later you had a plate in front of everyone and took the seat next to Sam. You looked over at Aj and Dean, who were both grimacing at the carrots on their plate, "Eat them, both of you. They're good for you." you said, Sam biting back a smile as Dean stabbed at a carrot with his fork and eyed it. 

"You first." said Dean to Aj.

 "But you're a grown up. You go first." she argued. 

"Together?" he asked.

 She nodded and they both took a bite at the same time. "Not so bad is it?" you asked.

 "Getting Dean to eat vegetables is like pulling teeth." said Sam.

 "It's rabbit food. I'm not a rabbit." Dean sassed back causing Aj to break out in a fit of giggles. 

The rest of dinner  was spent laughing, and getting to know each other. Dean and Aj both, not so smoothly, slipping Rocky bits of food under the table. Dean kept his focus on you throughout the meal. He noticed how you expertly provided answers to their questions without giving too much away, always just providing the bare minimum before quickly pulling focus back to him or his brother. You did this without breaking a sweat, almost as if you knew what questions would be asked and rehearsed your answers. No matter how hard he tried to casually pry, you always seemed to be one step ahead with a clever redirect. Most people wouldn't have picked up on it, but his years as a cop had taught him a few things. Every instinct he had was screaming at him that you were hiding something, and he was desperate to get to the bottom of it. 

Sam clearing his throat pulled him from his thoughts, "Y/N, this was great. We really appreciate it." he said.  

You started to clear everyone's plates and carried them to the sink. "I'm no chef, but it's better than t.v. dinners. I'm glad you enjoyed it." you said. 

Sam helped you wash and dry dishes, even though you repeatedly told him he didn't have to, and Aj and Dean went into the living room. 

         Against his better judgement, Dean decided to see if he could get anything out of Aj. Sam had told him about the talk he had with her, and the things she said about "the bad man".  "So Ava, do you like this house better than your last one?" he asked.

 "Aj." she said as she scratched Rocky's head. 

"Sorry, Aj." said Dean, fixing his mistake.

 She shrugged her shoulders, "I like this place. It's big, and I like Rocky. I asked momma if we could stay this time." she said.

 Dean raised an eyebrow, this was going to be easier than he thought. "Why would you leave?" he asked. 

He watched as she took a look around the room before whispering, "If the bad man comes." 

Dean leaned down closer to her, "Who is he?" he asked, genuinely concerned. 

She shook her head, implying that she couldn't tell him. "You know I'm a cop. I could take him to jail." he bribed.

 "What if it's a monster? Could you still get it?" she seriously asked.

 "Is the bad man a monster?" Dean asked, his concern growing.

 "Sometimes I have bad dreams about monsters. Momma has bad dreams about the bad man. So he's probably a monster." she said. 

"How do you know that?" Dean asked. 

"I hear her sometimes at night. She thinks I'm sleeping, but I hear her." she said. 

"What do you hear?" he asked. 

"Sometimes she cries like she is sad, and sometimes she screams like she is hurt. I think the bad man hurts her in her dreams." she explained.

 "Have you ever seen him?" asked Dean. 

She shook her head, "We always go before he can find us." she said.

 Dean was about to ask another question when he heard Sam walk in, "Hey, you ready to head home?" he asked. 

Dean nodded and turned to Aj, "I won't say anything, and I promise he won't get you or your mom. We'll keep you safe." he said. 

Aj quickly stood up and wrapped her little arms around his neck. You walked in to see Aj hugging Dean, "Careful, honey. Dean has a lot of hurt spots." you said.

 You watched as he gently patted her back, "I feel much better now." he said.

 Aj finally released him, "I like you, now." she whispered. 

He ruffled her hair with his good hand, "Me too, kid." he said. 

Aj hugged Sam and Rocky goodbye, and you helped Sam get Dean out the door, telling them you would stop by tomorrow to check in. They thanked you again, and you closed and locked the door behind them. 

        Once they were down your drive Dean looked up over his shoulder at Sam, "What do you think she's hiding?" he asked. 

Sam shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not exactly sure yet." he said.

 "So, you think it's something then?" Dean asked. 

"I don't know, Dean. Could be nothing." he said.

 "Come on, Sam. You know better than that." scolded Dean. 

Sam sighed, "I mean, sure I have some questions, but maybe it's nothing. Maybe she is just a private person. We only just met her, maybe she'll open up in time. Most people don't give away their whole backstory to strangers." argued Sam.

 Dean thought for a moment, "Maybe." he said. "But the kid is scared of something, and the way she always seemed one step ahead of everything we asked her.....I just....something is going on." he said. 

"Let's just give it some time." said Sam. 

Dean sighed, deciding not to reply. He turned in his chair and looked at your house, Aj perched in the bay window watching them leave. He tried to tell himself that Sam was right, and that in time you would tell them if something was wrong. He tried to tell himself to drop it, to just leave it alone, and you would talk when you were ready, but his mind kept going back to that scared little girl and he didn't know how long he would be able to ignore his instincts.

[hamonsurveysoverdrive]

Quintessential

Have you thought about an ex today???? Yeah, the kids' dad. Could you handle a long distance relationship??? Probably not. What are you listening to right now? Nothing. Does the last person you held hands with mean a lot to you? Yes. Is it easy for others to make you feel awkward?? Not really. Do you know anybody who was abused?? Yes. Do you know anyone named Tom? Yes. Who was the last person that said "i love you" to you? My kiddos. How many people do you know with your name? One. Where did you get the underwear you are wearing right now? Target. How do you feel about the person who texted you last? She's awesome. Have you kissed someone in the past 24 hours???? Yepp. If you could change your eye color what would you change it to? Grey. Have you kissed anyone whose name started with S? Yepp. Do you have someone who you can be your complete self around??? Yes, several someones. Is this year the best year of your life?? 2020 is no one's best year. Do you have any strange phobias?? Yes. Do you have any friends that you've known for 10 years or more? Yepp. How often do you see your ex? I see Drew pretty much weekly. If the last person you kissed needs you at 3 am and you could go, would you go? Absolutely. Do you miss your past? Some aspects. Do you think you're wasting your time on the person you like? No. What side of a heart do you draw first? Left. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school/work? Work, yes. What kind of back pack do you have, and what's in it? I have a backpack purse that is the map of Neverland. Nothing is in it, because I'm using my new purse now. Do you have a friend you can tell secrets to and you're sure they won't tell anyone? Yepp. Is there a secret you've never told your parents? Yes. Do you have candles in your room? No. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone for more than 5 minutes? My mom and her husband. Do you have your eye on anyone? I'm already with someone. Are you happy with your life at the moment? A lot of parts, sure. Some parts, not so much. What is something you disliked about your day? I have a bit of headache, but other than that it's been a GREAT day. What's the last thing you drank? Water. Who was the last person to tell you they love you? My kiddos. What are you listening to? Crooked Teeth - Death Cab For Cutie. Did you go outside for more than 30 minutes today? Yes What's the last thing you said out loud? "Thank you." How's your hair looking? I need a haircut, but it's not looking too bad. Anyone you would like to get things straight with? Nope. Ever kissed in the rain? Yes. Are you sleepy? Yes. What TV show should never stop getting produced? Idgaf Happier on your own or with someone? I'm happier with Justin. Who's the last text you received from? Kelsi. Is cheating ever okay? No. Would you ever be the "other person", as in help someone cheat? I have before, it was a dark time in my life. Can you whistle? No. Waiting on anything? Insurance check. What shoes did you wear today? Black canvas sneakers. Name all the people you've seen today: Justin, Shonda, Andy, Max, Dad. In that order. What's irritating you right now? Nothing really. Do you like someone? Yepp. Where is your cell phone? Great question... Do you feel comfortable with answering personal questions? Obviously. Have you ever passed out? Yepp. Where is the person you miss the most at this time? Alabama. Do you have a best friend? I have a few. Have you ever had your heart broken? Yepp. Are your eyes the same color of your mom's or dad's? Closer to my mom's. Have you ever hated someone, but ended up being friends with them? Yes. Does it matter to you if your boyfriend/girlfriend smokes? He does smoke, and so do I. Ever found more than a dollar in a random place? Sure. How many of the opposite sex do you really trust? Justin, my dad, Needles. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? Nope. Did you tell the last person you liked your feelings for them? Yeah, that's why we're together. What time will you be getting up tomorrow morning? No specific time. How are you feeling at this exact moment in time? Great. Any weekend plans? Just hanging out with the kiddos. Will you be in bed within twenty minutes? I don't plan on it. Who were you with at 1 AM this morning? Justin, Liz, Zach. Closest pink object? Post-It note. Are you mad at anyone? Nope. How old will you be in 5 years? 37. Thanks for that. Are you watching TV while doing this? No. Last thing you ate? Mini quiches. Are you having a good hair day? Meh. Do you miss someone? Yes. Do you have any bruises? No. Are you hot or cold right now? Neither. Who are your last 4 texts from? Kelsi, Krystle, Justin, mom. What's your middle name? Victoria. What's your current favorite color? Grey. When is your birthday? November 2. What color shirt are you wearing? It's mostly black. Are you imagining anyone naked right now? I mean, now I am lol Do you want to see somebody right now? Nah Where is your mom? Either at home or out running errands. Speak any other languages? Not fluently. Do you like rain? Yes. What are you thinking about right now? These questions. What would be harder, for you to tell someone you love them or that you do not love them back? Idk. Your best friend was caught smoking weed in the bathroom, how do you react? Depends on which best friend lol. Kelsi I'd be shocked, I'd probably laugh at the others. What's the furthest away from home you have ever been? NYC. Is there a chick that knows everything or mostly everything about you? Yes Who was the last person you cried in front of? Andy? How many cell phones have you had in your life? Too many. Do you currently have a hickey? Nah, but Justin does lol Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you woke up? Yes Look behind you, what do you see? My dining room table. What's on your schedule for tomorrow? Nothing in particular. Do you think that you're a good person? Mostly. Do you and your dad get along? Yes. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive for? One hour lol Can you see your purse right now? Nah Are you wearing any perfume? What kind? No. Are there products in your hair? Yes. Can you see a stuffed animal from where you’re sitting? Nope. Have you ever eaten cat food? No. Did you ever try to watch yourself pee when you were little? I'm sure. When you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy? Sometimes. Do you actually like sneezing? Not really? What about coughing? Nope. Have you taken a shower yet today? Not yet. How many pets do you have? A cat named Merlyn and a dog named Valentine. Do you actually like them? Yes. Do you have one best friend who is always there for you? I have more than one. Are the people who you hang out with at school considered your "real friends"? I do college online, I know none of my schoolmates lol Do you wear skirts a lot? I wouldn't say a lot. Mini skirts or longer ones? Mini. Do you basically live in jeans? No. Do you wear sweatpants a lot? Not a lot, but I have some. Name one movie you like and your favorite character in it: Gone With the Wind, Scarlett O'Hara. How many pairs of jeans do you think you have? Six? Do you wear white after Labor Day even though it’s against the fashion rules? That's so dumb Or do you hardly ever wear white anyway? I don't wear it that often Do you like hoodies? Who doesn't? Big ones or the form fitting kind? Big. Do you wear polo shirts a lot? Fuck no. Do you straighten your hair? Rarely. Should you straighten it? No. Have you ever gotten a real massage? Yes. When’s the last time you got your nails done? No clue. What was your favorite TV show when you were a little kid? Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Weren’t Nickelodeon shows much better back in the day? Yes. Do you remember watching The Secret World of Alex Mac? Yes. How about Rocko’s Modern Life? Yes. Did you ever actually have a rubber duck? Possibly? Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets? Yes. Do you love pictures as much as every other teenager in the world? I'm not a teenager. Are orgasms cool? Absolutely. Are you organized or messy in school? I am a combination lol Do you love your siblings? Mhmmm Do you have a step family? I have a step-father. Do you like Advil or Tylenol? Ibuprofen. What grade were you in when you got your first period (assuming you’re a girl)? 7th. Do you like girls, guys, or both? Both. Do you love your reproductive organs? Uhm, sure. Do you love your computer? Yeah. Are you one of those people who never drink soda? No. Or are you one of those people who are addicted? Yes. Do you drink coffee? Yes. Do you think it actually gives you energy? Yeah. Do you like basically all of your clothes? That's why I bought them. Do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself? Any of it. Do you honestly think you’re an interesting person? I can be. What song are you listening to? Float On - Modest Mouse. Why do you like that song? It's actually the only Modest Mouse song I do NOT like, but it came up on shuffle. What did your last incoming text message say? "I can rub it in his face without even actually saying anything." Look at your received call list. Who is number 5? I don't wanna get up to get my phone. Do you ever wish you were a different race, and if so, what? I don't think about stuff like that? Do hobos frighten you? No. What's the most you have ever spent in the crane toy machines? Not a lot. If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Here. When is the last time you were in a hospital? After my car wreck. Why were you there? To check on my ribs and head. What is the most painful piercing you have had? The first time I got my nose pierced. Have you ever cried after one of your favorite sports teams lost a game? Once, when the Lakers lost the state championship against the Celtics. I was pregnant, okay?? Would you marry a 90-year-old billionaire? If he didn't want sex, hell yeah. Have you ever kept a fortune from a Chinese fortune cookie? No. Have you ever told a lover that they were good in bed, when they were not? No. Would you jump into a lake to save a stranger? Depends. Do you think your life story would make a great movie? Meh. What TV show world would you fit right into? Idk. Would you rather be in a room with Micheal Jackson or a rattlesnake? Neither. Have you ever gone to a bookstore at 12 AM to buy the next Harry Potter book? No. Have you ever been so bored that you counted cracks in the walls? No. Do you read while you eat? Sometimes. How long does it usually take you to drink a beverage? Depends on the beverage. What did you want to be when you were in kindergarten? A writer. What do you want to be now? Librarian.

[jojosthetic-boogaloo]

ur moodboards r so pretty!! i was wondering if i could get one w/ a matchup? i'm a 21 y/o 5'7" bi girl, gemini and an infp. my interests include writing (kinda edgy tbh) poetry n drawing. i'm v into vulture culture, specifically bone collecting and wet specimens. i love animals, esp ferrets (i have 6 lol). i love listening to music, mostly heavy or obscure bands. i'm not v assertive and i'm a big daydreamer. ppl say i have a rather dry/dark sense of humor. thank u and good luck w the new blog!!

Darling, for sure! And thank you so much!! I hate to admit that flattery will in fact get you anywhere ahh dang it ily

For your matchup! This is like, bit obvious ‘kay, but let me make it special aight yuh, cue funky goth music! 

((Also, I went with the assumption that ferret owners walk them?? I hope that’s okay and not too bizarre?? As a dog owner I am sorry if I messed that up hhh)

Translation: “Be my silver lining, help me make things better, darling.”

Leone Abbacchio!

At first glance, Abbacchio just really dug your style. The way you presented yourself was exactly according to his liking, extremely tasteful, he thought to himself. Still, having a platonic crush on your style didn’t move him to come up to speak to you out of the blue, what for anyways? Not like he was about to ruin some quite scrumptious girl’s day with his weird ramblings.

What a surprise though. Next time he spotted you in public it was by chance, and also amusingly entertaining. Were you really walking around with 4 ferrets on a leash? What was better, as he walked closer to you was, did you also carry two more ferrets on your tote-bag? He chuckled as he finally was close enough to you and spoke. “Excuse me miss, I couldn’t help but stare.” He started, earning a raised eyebrow from you, was this dude a creep or something? You tightened the leash quietly towards you, ready to lift your tiny children into the bag and run if needed.

“Oh, yeah?” You replied, on your guard, giving him a full scan with your eyes. Tall, well built, solemn looking, very nice lips and lipstick, nice hair, nice clothing style. Okay, visually, he had a pass, you had yet to see if he was a decent person. “Yeah.” He started, feeling the analytic gaze coming from you in his figure. He came in too strong probably. “I mean, it’s not every day you see a beautiful lady walking around with... six. Six ferrets in the street.” He had paused mid-sentence to count your pets. That, that earned positive points on his favor, he was cute, he got a pass.

“That’d be a beautiful girl for you, I’m not that old, sir.” You retorted, a small smile on your lips for you didn't mean no harm, and he understood that by replying with a smile on his face as well. “Ouch, okay, touché.” You both chuckled, then Leone presented himself, extending a polite hand your way. “I’m Leone, Leone Abbacchio, pleased to meet you miss.” He started, his lips together in a polite, amused smile. You thought it through for a second, realizing just how handsome this man was, timidly raising your hand to shake his. “Y/N’s the name, the pleasure is... mine, Leone.” He found that reaction interesting, contrary to the previous one, regaling you with a tender smile that barely showed you his perfect pearly whites.

“Well, Y/N, would you maybe... like to go for a drink?” He suggested, taking all his chances right there. How long had it been since he last went out with a girl for his own personal interest? He feared he’d forgotten how to act. Then came your answer, that actually put him at ease quite easily. “I’d love to, but I have to leave this babies back home first.” You started, then adjusting your tote-bag and reaching inside the pocket of your pants you took out your phone, unlocking it with practiced easiness. “Mind giving me your number so we can meet up some other time though?” He grinned, nodding and giving you a short “hm” as a response. 

You’d decided to meet up at the local music store, upon his request. Apparently, he wanted to buy a new album from his favorite band for his collection, and you didn’t comply, since you also were happy to check out on some new tunes. 

Watch him pleasantly surprised when he gets there and finds that both; you’re already there, even if he did get there a bit early, and also you were eyeing quite thoroughly the section he most liked to search through. “Hello there Y/N, anything catch your eye?”

As much as you’d liked to blurt out “You.”, you swallowed when you turned around and saw this wonderful eye candy ask about your music preference. 

After walking around the store for a while, casually chatting about the CDs both you and him pointed at or grabbed before placing them back in place you’d learned that you shared music tastes! Would he get any better than this? You thought, and simultaneously, so did he about you.

You decided to go for that drink you promised the previous day, he ordered some tea, and you did much the same. He refrained from drinking beer due to having problems with it in the past, he commented. You felt bad, so that’s why you chose the same thing, a small act of solidarity.

Through the afternoon, you’d been talking about books you’d read, sometimes coinciding on your reads, most the time Abbacchio recommending you books he’d loved, and so on.

It got interesting when you mentioned you also wrote some poetry sometimes. He asked if he could someday see your writings, and as much flustered as you got upon just thinking about it, you decided upon saying “We’ll see.”

When the night came, you’d realized you’d spent too much time in there, now a long 30 minute walk awaited you back home and, quite honestly, you weren’t exactly giddy and excited about it. 

“Don’t worry, bella, I’ll drive you home.” Great! You were rather nervous to get in the car of a man you’d quite prematurely met, but something deep in your gut told yourself to trust in him. And you did well, he opened the passenger seat’s door for you in a most outdated gentlemanly manner and turned around to sit down on the driver’s seat himself, revving up the engine and starting your way back home. You gave him the directions in a quiet tone, the music on the radio calmly playing while he let you guide, eyes focused on the road ahead and the wind gently swaying his hair backwards from his half open window. 

You took some time to quietly observe his features. The moonlight did him justice, he looked handsome during daylight, but this was another thing entirely. You realized you’d gotten a small crush on him at this point, sighing and staring at the road ahead. Not aware he’d noticed your staring and was now biting the inside of his cheek where you couldn’t see his embarrassment.

When you got home, your stomach sunk. You felt just how much you didn’t want him to leave just yet. And so, when you undid your belt and were about to turn for the door after a quiet “thank you”, you decided on turning back once more, only to notice he’d leaned over onto your seat and his face was mere inches away from yours, staring back at you with quiet surprise and wonder.

He swallowed, timidly speaking up after clearing his throat, not moving an inch. “You were about to... forget your bag in the back seat...” He stated, and you did notice your bag was being held in the hand that invaded your seat by its handles.

You slowly leaned in, and it happened, you pressed your lips to his, and he pressed back against you in return, raising his hand to your cheek and letting the bag softly drop into the car’s floor. 

When you broke off the kiss, you bit your lip. You were both adults, there was no harm in asking, right? “Uhm... would you want to... come in?” He chuckled and leaned back into the driver’s seat, moving the gear lever while still looking at you with a smirk on his lips. “Sure bella, let me park first and I’ll be there in a minute.”

So he spent the night with you. Next morning, you woke up with a small paper note next to you in bed, right where he’d laid previously and it read, in utmost fancy calligraphy “Went for breakfast, that was wonderful. - Leone”.

You threw yourself back into the mattress again, giddily waving the paper around as your kicked your legs like a teenage girl in love. You loved this man, he was amazing, so thoughtful, so kind and charming. He made you feel safe, and that’s what you most cherished. Sooner than later, you heard the doorbell ring, and promptly threw a shirt on you along with some undergarments to find a handsome silver haired man standing at your door with coffee and pastries.

After meeting up a few more times in this fashion, you’d gotten to the point you just had to ask. Perched on his form on your sofa as you watched a documentary on pagan rituals he seemed to be rather interested on, you rested your head between his shoulder and his chest and timidly asked, playing with his hand that rested on your thigh. “Leone, what are we?” 

He seemed to stay silent for longer than comfortable. But when you looked up, seeing him arch his brow in confusion and turn to look at you for a brief moment before turning his gaze back to the screen. He threw an arm around your shoulder and squeezed you close, resting his temple on top of your head tenderly as he seemed to try and find his words without missing much of the show.

“I thought we were dating already?” He nonchalantly replied, which made your chest tighten and a sharp breath inflate your chest. You let it out and gave a small nod onto his chest, placing a soft kiss on it and turning your  gaze to the TV once more, feeling him run his hand up and down your forearm in a comforting motion. “I’m glad we are then.” He chuckled and shook his head, but added nothing else, the smile never leaving his lips. 

[minsyal]

[Mutual Feelings Pt. 7, Revali x Reader]

Part 6 

          “I heard you got your jimmies rustled.” Purah noted with a full-mouth – a bad habit that her mother so desperately tried to rid her of, but her attempts were futile.

           “Oh?” Robbie inquired, a curious eyebrow raising, “Your jimmies?”

           “I’ve always hated how you two talk.” Your eyes instinctively rolled, possibly so far that they’d surely never come back. “Impa doesn’t talk like that, where on earth did you two pick that up from? You’re not even siblings!”

            The two shrugged simultaneously, both almost mimicking one another as they returned to picking the bones from the fish and discarding them to the side of their plates. It was truly odd how similar they were. Yet, when the topic arose they would always deny it – possibly until the days that they died. Maybe Robbie picked up on Purah’s tendencies while training and researching along with her.

          “Anyway,” Purah spoke directed at you though her eyes never faltered from her dinner, “back to your jimmies.”

           “How did you guys even hear about that? It was a few days ago, news can’t possibly travel that fast.”

           “Oh, but it does when you’re a royal scientist.” She continued, “I heard Revali freaked out! What was that like?”

           “Is this conversation really necessary?” You pushed a mushroom around on your plate, watching as the small ashy flakes crumpled and wrinkled along the sides. Purah had a habit similar to that of her opened-mouth chewing; she was notorious for cooking far too much food. Being nearly 30 minutes into dinner, you would suspect that there would be little to nothing left on the family plates gathered at the middle of the table. Instead, a plethora of food was still stacked upon itself. Roasted mushrooms and leeks littered the table that would go untouched for the night, or possibly discarded.

           “Absolutely it is.” Robbie chimed in whilst stuffing another carrot into his mouth. “He never freaks out. Go on, spill it.”

           Letting a puff of air escape your lips, you dropped your utensils to the plate and rested your elbows on the table. “Well, I’m absolutely stuffed. Nice work, as always. Are you guys done with these?” You motioned to the plates sitting on the table. Both nodded.

           Carrying the plates into the next room over, all eyes were on you upon your entrance. Two men sat at one table, a half-played chess board between them. Another man had his head turned from the fire he stood before, their dinner cooking above it. The room was very much like the rest with hard wood floors, hard chalk and limestone walls that extended just above 7 feet, a fireplace in the corner to warm the area in the winter, and a few tables and cots.

           “Haven’t seen you here in a while.” The man by the fire spoke, Mannery.

           “I get around.” You took another step into the room. The soldiers returned to their chess game, one obviously contemplating over his next move. By the looks of it, he was losing.

           “You get around?” Mannery’s eyebrow raised suggestively, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. Face flushed, you closed your eyes and sighed. “You know what I mean.”

           “I know. Is that for us?” His head nodded toward the plates in both your hands.

           “Purah made too much.”

           “She always does.” He rose from his spot and crossed the room to stand at your side. Mannery was a tall guy, with a straightened back he was about 6 foot 4. His light brown hair was cut short and slightly spiked in the front. He was one of the knights positioned at the Royal Lab and had become acquainted with you after your visits. His wife worked in the castle and on occasion would join you on your voyage to bring Purah more books as if she didn’t have enough.

           “Enjoy, boys.”

           The night passed with frequent interruptions either from the guards or Robbie dropping something that would go clacking onto the floor followed by a whispered “oh shoot” or “dang it.” His footsteps would carry off in another direction soon after. You’d hear Purah shuffling around behind Robbie reminding him of things he knew to do. When the sun did finally decide to rise, you did as well. Leaving a note on the desk for Purah thanking her for her company and dinner, you slipped out the door and back to the trek toward the castle. Opting for efficiency, you decided to follow Regencia River back toward the path rather than waste time traveling through the Breach of Demise. The river rushed quickly carrying rafts of weary travelers, merchants, and the occasional bass along with it.

           Arriving in Castle Town, the morning dwellers were out bustling about to prepare for the busy day to come. The baker was at his window, kneading a soft pillow of dough to be stuffed into the blazing oven behind him. The sweet scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as his wife pulled a loaf from the oven. A jeweler was opening her shutters, a mother was shaking off a dusty rug in front of her general store, a young boy ran past chasing after his runaway dog, and a horse-drawn carriage brought goods all the way from Hateno. You could vaguely see the outlines of Hateno grain and Kakariko rice, even a pumpkin or two. The merchant hailed to a shopkeeper, joyfully greeting them and immediately going into their bargaining routine.

           The guards at the castle gates waved you in, greeting you formally upon your entrance. Nodding, you followed the path up to the first gatehouse where yet another guard permitted you to progress forward. Entering the same entrance as the knights, you ignored the murmurs of morning gossip as they dressed for the day. The air in the room was clean, not yet contaminated with the sour smell of sweat. Your room was a blessing, being one of the only places you felt like things were fully in your control.

           The work you had been focused on prior to leaving for Rito Village was strewn across your desk in haphazard organization that only made sense to you. A book on Gerudo was placed neatly on the bookshelf, its pages marked and noted. A sketch of that blasted bird was hung on the wall, next to one of Lady Mipha, Lady Urbosa, and Daruk. It was easy to capture the women’s beauty, as all they had to do was flash a smile to appear stunning. Daruk had opted to go for a stronger pose for his sketch, his arms flexing as much as a rock could, a large smile on his face. Revali, on the other hand, had refused a sketch saying that he had much better things to do with his time than assist in your “nonsense” research. He was easier to draw from a distance.

           At the time you hadn’t expected to become so close to the group, as you were only there to examine the technology and work on furthering the knowledge of their anatomy. While you hadn’t truly become close to any of them, there was a sense of acceptance. A note had been tacked to your wall, now torn and dampened from leaving the window open during a past storm. The paper was crinkled like an elder’s skin, the ink almost incoherent. It was from Mipha.

           Months back, she had written to you during a leave of absence as she became acquainted with her Divine Beast. She had expressed concern of the beast’s controls as she wasn’t quite sure what some of them did. It seemed that almost all the Champions had this issue but had gone overlooked by the other royal scientists. With Purah busied by the flying guardians, and Robbie concerned with the walking ones, it left you to deal with their requests.

           Sitting at your desk, you fell into another fit of immobility as work took precedence over all else. Your eyes wandered from books about plants to ones of the vast land that extended beyond the castle walls. While this was not directly related to work, it was just as important and it’s location was in the desert of the Gerudo Region. A peculiar plant grew in this region, it’s location varying with each passing year. It bloomed only one day, and finding it was essential to your most pressing project. Thus far, you had determined that this plant would not be in bloom for a few months, three to be exact. It’s location was the only missing factor.

           Your travels were lonely. Once again on the long path alone, you found yourself getting lost in thought quite often. Having stayed at the castle for a few days, you were given ample time to rest up and regain movement in your joints that had stiffened from lying in a bed for so long. Gerudo City was your destination. Seeing as Urbosa requested your assistance with Naboris, it gave you the perfect excuse to scout the desert to get a better idea of where you were going when the time came.

           Cautious of the travelers passing by, you kept your head down and small knife readily available. Yiga clan members had a tendency to roam this area, preying upon unsuspecting wanderers. A royal scientist would surely be like getting a golden metal.

           “Ah, [Name].” Urbosa greeted as you approached the walls of the city. She towered over you, a welcoming smile on her face. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Are you fairing well after the injuries?”

           “Fairing fine.” You reassured her. “I came to look at Vah Naboris for you. There are a few things I’m a little curious about.”

           She looked to the desert beyond the outlook where the beast stood.

           “Of course, follow me.”

           Naboris was far different than the other beasts on the interior. It had three terminals that were controllable, each turning like a sifter. To gain entrance to the outside, one would need to stand in a certain spot and then activate the terminal. Interesting technology always seemed to be so difficult. The ground rumbled beneath your feet as you were hoisted upward, onto the outside platform. A steadying hand was placed on your shoulder as Urbosa reached down to hold you in place. Smiling, she beckoned you to the main platform that stood in the center of Vah Naboris.

           You traveled to see Mipha and Daruk as well, seeing as they would require similar updates to their Divine Beast. Though, you did not plan to spend as much time with them as you did in Gerudo. You had gained a descent amount of information in the two weeks you spent there and had a good idea at where you were headed.

           “Do you recall the stones we used while in the Hebra Region?” Mipha implored as she strolled next to you, heading back to the Domain after a long day of improvements to the beast. The two of you walked together down the steps of the retaining wall.

           “The soapstones?”

           “Yes!” She nodded, a bright smile on her face, “Sidon loved them. Quite interesting things they are.”

           Daruk was insistent on watching your every move as you fixed up Vah Rudania. He wanted badly to make sure he knew everything that was going into and coming out of the beast. Supposedly he “just wanted ‘ta make sure I know ev’ry thing I can ‘bout the beast.”

           “Hey kid,” Daruk raised his hand to slap at your back before retracting it. “Eh,” he let out a chuckle, “my bad!” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, “Almost forgot about that tumble you took.”

           “All healed up.” You assured him.

           “Good t’ hear! Wouldn’t want our little scientist get’n hurt.” Revali’s nickname for you had rubbed off on Daruk. His use of the term was different though, as there was nothing but sincere kindness in his words. This time he forgot to refrain from hitting you and his hand met your back, sending you tumbling onto the ground. Shocked and very apologetic, Daruk raised you up from under the arms and examined you to ensure he hadn’t hurt you one bit. Laughing, you brushed it off and guaranteed him you were just fine.

           The trip to Rito Village from the castle took two days with one stop at the Royal Lab to check in on your colleagues. Purah was the same, crazy and hyper all simmered into one concoction. Robbie had left for the castle to speak with King Rhoam of the walking guardians. He had uncovered more concentrated in Hyrule Field around the Garrison.

“Can you please let me up on Medoh?” You groaned, staring up at Revali as he hovered above you extended in the air.

           It had been two months since you last saw the bird. Having spent two weeks in Gerudo, one in Goron City, one in Zora’s Domain, two weeks traveling and two more in the castle, you had cherished the time without his looming attitude. When you first stepped foot in Rito Village, that blasted Rito was at your side pestering you as if the dynamic between you never changed. Ignoring his presence, you headed straight for Seoi’s.

           “Where are you heading to?” Revali implored as you climbed the steps.

           “Hi Seoi.” You entered the home and felt your heart drop to your stomach. Keumi was lying in a hammock hung low to the ground, much like the one you had been put into after your injury. Her eyes were big and puffy, her wings spread out, and a blanket hung over her tiny body. Using all her energy, she raised her head and focused in on you.

           “[Name]!” She exclaimed, her voice coming out as a creak.

           “Keumi, please rest. [Name] is coming over, there’s no need to shout.” Seoi brushed her feathers across the child’s face, attempting to sooth her blazing fever.

           “Can I have a moment with your mom?” You knelt next to her and fumbled with the necklace tied around her neck. Her eyelids grew heavy, blinking open and closed slowly as she exerted all her remaining energy to nod. Crossing the room with Seoi, you spoke in hushed voices so to not alert the young girl. Revali lingered at the door, observing the scene that unfolded before him.

           “Sweetheart,” Seoi wrapped her wings delicately around your face, brushing her feathers over your eyes. “They’re back. Have you forgotten to take care of yourself again?”

           “Me? You look exhausted.”

           “I’ve not slept in three days.”

           “Is that how long she’s been sick?” Seoi nodded in response, “Poor thing. I’ll work this all out Seoi. Keep her hydrated. It’ll pass like it always has.”

           “What if this time it doesn’t?”

           “Then I’ll work extra hard to ensure that it does.”  

           “Hmph.” He landed on the deck named after himself, his talons clacking on the cedar as he circled you. “Eventually.”

           “I have upgrades Medoh needs.”

           “What are they for?”

           “Your protection. Unless you’d rather die in a fiery explosion?”

            Revali was reluctant to let you step foot onto Medoh and even more reluctant to let you climb onto his back so he could get you up there. He zipped into the sky only after a ten-minute rant about how you shouldn’t hold onto his armor, how you shouldn’t dare to touch the Great Eagle Bow, not to grip too tightly around his neck, and not to go wandering off through Medoh upon landing. You were strictly instructed to also not ask too many questions, with him citing your “annoying voice” as a reason to not talk.

           “Thanks for that.” You smoothed your frizzed hair back. Walking with an air of arrogance, he motioned for you to follow as he began for the main terminal of the beast. While his tongue remained sharp, as it always had, he was more tame than usual. He didn’t make the same quips and insults, though one thing did remain. He never used your name.

           “I can’t carry both of you.” Seoi frowned, her eyes focusing on Keumi as she did her best to sit up straight. “Junil is out on patrol, otherwise I’d ask him to help.”

           “I suppose you could take me first and then leave me while you went to get Keumi?”

           “Why don’t you go ask Revali for an extra hand? After all, you did just spend the entire day with him.” Despite the circles around her eyes and a sick child at her feet, she still managed to keep up this idea of the two of you together.

           “I’d rather not spend another moment at his side.”

           “You didn’t leave Medoh all day.”

           “Because if I had tried, I’d have either fallen to my death or never heard the end of it from him. Look,” You ran a hand down your face, “lets just find someone else to help.”

           “Help with what?” The same crisp voice you had been subject to all day spoke, startling both you and Seoi. Keumi, regardless of her red eyes and sniffling nose, had a smile on her face and stars in her eyes as she looked at the Rito Champion.

           “Oh, Revali.” Seoi addressed him. “Perfect timing. I’d hate to inconvenience you, but would you be opposed to helping [Name] and I? We need to take Keumi to the Sturnida Hot Spring just beyond the Flight Range.”

           His focus homed in on you, an eyebrow raising as he leaned against the opening. Seoi was putting on that same “super sweet mother” façade, backing up to kneel at her daughter’s side. Revali pushed off the supporting beam and rolled his shoulders back, straightening his posture. He practically oozed an unwavering confidence.

           “Anything to help a beautiful mother and her child.”

           Mouth agape, you mentally rolled your eyes as you thought back to how he had just called them “urchins” a few months ago. Was he this determined to get at you in every way possible? The only time you felt completely at peace was with Seoi and Keumi, and he had to take that away from you as well.

           “Close your mouth, scientist. It’s not becoming.” A free wing pushed your chin up, closing your mouth. A small giggle was heard from Keumi, causing the slightest smile to appear on Revali’s face; a genuine smile. Quickly washing it away, he gestured to the door.

           “Shall we, then?”

[tsegss]

Tyler Seguin: You Don’t Have Me: Part 4

masterlist

author’s note: if you couldn’t tell I watched 27 dresses while I was writing the first half of this lol andddddd you can find the first three parts in my masterlist

word count: 1,173

Thankfully, after noticing the look on your face when Tyler was mentioned, she stopping pressing about him and let the conversation flow to other topics, mainly the two of you talking about work, trying to keep the conversation wedding free. You knew it would be all the three of you talked about for the next two weeks, anyway. No matter what you were talking about, though, he never left your mind. How could you have not thought about him or miss him at all?

You were distracted all throughout your sister’s dress fitting, you couldn’t stop thinking about him- what he was doing, who he was hanging out with, how the dogs were doing- it was all encompassing.

“(Y/N)!” You heard, pulling you from your thoughts. Your head popped up, following the sound of Anna’s voice. “Do you like it?” She asked, motioning to the lacy white a-line dress she was wearing.

“You look beautiful.” You smiled, genuinely. You had truly never seen anyone as beautiful, in a wedding dress as your sister. As you sipped the complementary champagne given to you by the bridal boutique you watched as all of her other bridesmaids oohed and ahed over Anna, hoping one day you would be as happy as she was to marry her fiancé, Chris. You had really been there through their whole relationship from the night they met, to when she had asked you if it was okay if he moved in with the two of you (you moved out a month later), to right now- standing in the dress she would wear to walk down the aisle to him in just a couple of weeks.

You weren’t necessarily an emotional person, but that, all of those memories flooding back to you, made you cry. And then it hit you, the only thing missing was Tyler. He had been there with you through everything, as well. Anna had actually met Chris because he was Tyler’s friend, and through the years the four of you had done so much together, and now you were sure. There was no denying that you missed him, a lot.

“Are you okay?” One of the other bridesmaids asked you, while handing you a tissue. You nodded, as you knew that even if you tried to speak it would turn into a full blown cry. Quickly, you pulled it together before anyone else could notice and joined them in with complementing the beautiful bride-to-be.

The next week, you spent every night after work helping Anna with last minute details. You helped her re-organize the seating chart for the reception after a late RSVP from one of Chris’s old college roommates, who she didn’t even like. The next night, you spent three hours with her at the hair salon finalizing what she was going to do with her hair. Honestly, you couldn’t wait for the wedding to be over, as you found the whole process to be exhausting.

As you drove home that night, you struggled to stay awake. Your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier. You started pinching yourself to keep awake. After the last pinch, at a stop sign, you looked both directions, before making a right hand turn onto the road, just a few minutes form your house. It was late so there weren’t many other cars out. But, out of nowhere another car slammed into the right side of your car.  

Everything happened so fast. You didn’t even see the car as it came barreling towards going at least 50 in 30 mile per hour zone. You were pretty sure you had blacked out just from the force alone.

Your eyes opened slowly, as you started to hear the car alarm going off. Realizing what had happened, that you had just been in a car accident, you looked at your body- seeing if there were any major noticeable injuries, before checking your surroundings. Thankfully, nobody had been with you, and you heard a stranger approach your car, asking if you were okay before telling you that they had called 911.

Your head pounded, and as you raised your hand up to the source of the pain you felt a sticky liquid and after years of watching Grey’s Anatomy religiously you knew it was blood. After touching it you glanced at your hand, confirming what you already suspected- it was blood, and the evidence was practically dripping from your fingertips. You groaned. Thankfully, that was the only blood you could see, aside from a couple of cuts from shards of glass that had broken off of the windshield and passenger side window. But, you were starting to feel dizzy and because you couldn’t actually see it, you didn’t know how bad the injury actually was and in the distance you could hear sirens so you figured it was better to stay in the car, rather than potentially injuring yourself or someone else further.

After giving the police your statement while getting a basic check by the paramedics, they determined you had to go to hospital. Not only did they need to stitch up the nasty laceration on your forehead but they also wanted to check and make sure you didn’t have any internal bleeding or severe head trauma, as they called it. Riding in the ambulance was quick because you were only a few minutes away form the hospital and the paramedic was really cute and kept smiling at you, and that, oddly, made you feel better.

As soon as the ambulance got to the emergency entrance of the hospital, the cute paramedic wheeled you in, telling the nurses there to, “take really good care of her,” before giving you a big smile. The nurses smiled too, before giving you the, “isn’t he cute,” and “I hope you got his number,” comments. You smiled as best you could before they dove into asking you a thousand and one questions.

You told them the only pain you were experiencing came from your head, and while they went to go get someone to give you your stitches, they started you on a little bit of pain medicine. As she closed the curtain as you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing as that always seemed to calm you down, which was necessary because you hated hospitals.

“(Y/N), there’s someone here to see you.” The nurse said softly as she approached your bed, drawing the curtain back just a bit, you could only see half of her, let alone the person she was with.

“Okay.” you croaked out, resting your head on the back of the hospital bed.

“Hey.” You heard an unmistakeable voice say. You had to be hallucinating, why would the hospital call him- there was no way. Your head snapped up as fast as it could and low and behold, clear as day Tyler was standing there in front of you. His face was wrapped in worry as he stood in the doorway, almost afraid to come closer to you.

What the fuck was he doing here?

[that-buckley-gal]

Powerless - Chapter Fifteen

January 19, 1945

I’ve been slowly learning to handle my powers during the past six months. The big reveal came when a fire broke out in Howard’s lab and I somehow managed to keep it contained until everyone else could put it out with fire extinguishers. Steve, Bucky, and Peggy got the full history – with my father’s letters backing me up – while everyone else got a simple “My dad had powers too”.

I wasn’t allowed out on missions with the Commandos, not that I minded, as I wasn’t sure how long it would take for my still-incoming powers to develop and for me to learn to control it. Instead, Howard elevated me to be a full-time assistant for him and I loved it as mundane as it sounded.

 My schedule was pretty flexible as things were constantly changing around base. One day I could be filling out orders for things that Howard needed, and the next I’ll be making observations of his experiments. Other days I’d be with Peggy, who taught me more fighting styles and how to shoot a gun as well as sneak around in case the occasion ever called for it. Bless her. Steve and Bucky also weren’t strangers to my growing skill set either. Once, as a joke, Bucky tried to scare me, and he ended up on the floor with my elbow digging into his side. Howard witnessed the whole thing and was proud for “hiring” me as his assistant because I could also double as a bodyguard if the occasion ever called for it. Of course, when he’d start to joke around about me protecting him, I’d shut him up by flinging my shield at him, and would always grin when it came back to me after bouncing off the wall. At the end of those days though, I would usually go home to Bucky, if the Commandos weren’t on a mission, and would cuddle up to him. Nights in were spent in the kitchen, Bucky trying to learn how to cook from me, even though I wasn’t a master chef myself. Cleaning up after dinner has become something we do together as well though sometimes I’d kick him out after he gets water and suds everywhere trying to have a “water fight”. Some nights we’d go out and watch a movie, or even dancing at the local club. Occasionally we’ll both go drinking in the pub, and Bucky will end up carrying me home after about an hour. It’s really sweet how he takes care of me.

I can’t hold my liquor very well. And instead of nursing my hangover one morning, I stumbled down to meet Peggy for our morning run. Not even thirty feet into it, did I have to stop and get sick in a bush. Peggy immediately cornered me and hinted at me being pregnant, which led to a conversation between Bucky and I that I surprisingly didn’t mind. The conclusion was that we were going to wait until after the war ended before even thinking about trying to have a baby. If we had one now, when times were so uncertain and the base always being in a hustle and bustle, well, it would be extremely hard to keep him or her safe. And even if I went home, what would Bucky do? He’d still be here with his team. So we were going to wait, and I didn’t mind. Throughout the year, as I grew to be more physically and mentally stronger, Bucky began to confide in me about his time as a P.O.W. for Hydra and the work that they had to do in the factories. At first, I was horrified and wished he hadn’t spoke a word about it, but when I could actually see that the weight he seemed to be carrying was lifted, I began to listen more closely. There was nothing I could say, the damage had already been done, so I listened and empathized. I squeezed his hands and allowed him to shed silent tears of his frustration and hated for Hydra. I let him know he was okay and safe now. For our wedding anniversary, we took the weekend off and went back to the United States where I got my name legally changed from Rogers to Barnes. - Thursday night in the Barnes apartment was pasta night – something Peggy and Steve frequently popped in for, for dinner. And since Bucky and I usually overdid it when it came to these nights, we would be crashed out until 8:30-9:00 or so instead of our usual 7:00-7:30 wake up. Nobody bothered us either. “Hey! Guys – I’m sorry to intrude, but you have to get up now! Phillips wants to see us, immediately!” Steve loudly spoke, though I barely heard it in my sleepy daze. Peeking my eyes open, I could see he turned on the light and groaned while Bucky didn’t even move next to me. I rolled over to face the clock to see it 6:18 in the morning. “Steve!” I groan. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know what time it is?” “Yes! I – come on! You guys! Wake up!” Steve said and pulled the covers off. The brisk morning air immediately froze my exposed legs and I curled into the fetal position to try and preserve my warmth. Bucky stirred slightly but then snored loudly. That man could sleep through anything. “Bucky!” He said pinching his friend’s ankle, which made Bucky kick at him before shooting up and glaring at him. “What is it?” Bucky grumbled. Steve only smirked at his tired friend before giving me his eagle-eye stare. I grudgingly sit up as well. Steve cleared his throat. “Colonel Philips wants to see us at once. He called for a meeting that will start at 6:45, sharp. It’s important.” I roll my eyes and wave my hand at my brother. “We’re up and will be there. Now go.” Steve saluted and walked out of the room without picking up our blankets or even turning off the light. “That guy is such a punk,” Bucky grumbled once more before getting up. He grabbed the blankets and tossed them on me before walking out of the room. Laughing quietly, I yawn and lay back down. Instead of letting myself fall back asleep, I stretch out, imaging myself as a starfish and that my limbs were moving freely in the water before finally getting out of bed. I throw on a pair of green trousers that Peggy got me along with a matching shirt. I didn’t have to dress up in front of the Commandos or Steve. I pull on my winter coat and gloves before going to meet Bucky in the door way as he got ready in the bathroom. Doe-eyed, the two of us walk hand in hand down to a car that Bucky drove. Ten minutes later, we found ourselves the last ones to arrive at the meeting, Bucky taking a seat whilst I went for some coffee. The colonel then began to explain the mission. Without having to ask, I make a cup for Howard and give it to him silently before doing the same for the Colonel, who nodded his head in thanks as he continued on. I carefully hand out coffee to the Commandos and Peggy before finally taking a seat to my husband’s left. I always admired how the Commandos and co. always managed to draw out these elaborate, detailed plans of how they were going to get the job done. Towards the end of his briefing, the Colonel announced the Commandos were to leave at 0800 hours and, if effective, be back by nightfall. He then dismissed everyone, and Steve said they’d rendezvous at 0745 at the base entrance. Bucky and I go back home where he gets ready for his mission while I fix a quick but filling breakfast for him. As we eat, I slowly let my fingers dance around his hand before I finally remove his wedding band and attach it to my necklace – which was really his chain and dog tags. After his first mission, he said one of the enemies commented on his being married and threatened to kill me, even though they had no idea who I was, and that, as much as he wanted to, he shouldn’t wear his ring on missions anymore. “Not only that, but what if I get shot at, and the bullet hits the ring instead?” He said. “Well, then, you’d have a really angry wife. And a messed up hand,” I replied. We go downstairs at 7:30, and before he can leave, I pull him in for a kiss. It was similar to way I kissed him before he was shipping out to England. Full of love, and sorrow, and words unsaid out loud. A thousand promises wrapped into one. “I love you,” I whisper as his head rested on top of mine. “Be safe. Come home.” “I love you, Madison Nicole,” he whispered back, lips grazing my forehead. “And don’t worry, I will.” As he’s going out the door, I stop him once more. “Hey…um. When you come home, I really need to talk to you about something.” “Of course,” Bucky smiled. “Let’s see…I’ll be home by nightfall? Let’s talk over dinner. Ooh, make something with pasta.” I smile. “You know I will. Just be there, okay?” Bucky frowned at me. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just…messing around with you,” I said weakly. Bucky didn’t look convinced, and from his expression, I knew he was thinking about my dark place even though I haven’t been there in over a year. “You should go now, babe. I am fine, okay? Whatever I have to say can wait until tonight. I promise.” Bucky smiled finally and nodded his head. “Okay. I love you.” I watched him leave the building and run into the car that Steve and Peggy were already in. I wave at the car and watch it disappear in the snowy distance.

 Since Peggy was being Agent Carter today, I decided I would do Howard’s paperwork in his lab. Both of us there would drastically slow down my progress since Howard constantly asked for food or coffee or my opinion on his thoughts, but neither of us minded. Howard was my best friend after Peggy. It was nearing 6:42 now and still there was no word from Peggy on when the boys were headed home. Since pasta took only 8 or so minutes to cook, I asked Peggy to give me a heads up so I can go home and cook before Bucky got there. “So… Howard,” I start as I start to skim through another order request from Colonel Philips. “What’s up?” He asked. He looked up from the papers I needed him to sign. I grinned at the ink stain on his lip caused by his chewing on the pen before looking towards his file cabinet. “How’s your progress going on the whole super-soldier serum?” I asked. “Uh. Not so good,” Howard admitted. “Huh? Why’s that?” “I don’t have anymore of Steve’s blood to observe, remember? I asked you two weeks ago if you could ask Steve to donate another vial or two for my research.” “Did you?” I ask and think back to two weeks ago. “I’m sorry, Howard. But I can’t seem to recall this situation.” “Hey – don’t get too down, kid. It’s not that important. You can always ask when they come home tonight, yeah?”

 I wouldn’t have to if I just fessed up to having my own large vial of the original serum back in Brooklyn. But something tells me now is not the time to bring it up. And instead I simply smile at my boss and say I could and would ask Steve later tonight. We get back to work. Sometime later, there was a knock on the door before Steve came in. I didn’t pay him much attention because I was finishing my last order for the night, and instead called out “Hey Steve!” As I finish scribbling a few numbers down, I glance up to see Steve staring at me with a blankly sorry look on his face. I look at Howard to see him looking between Steve and I. “Steve? What is it?” I ask. His eyes soften and he looks down abruptly causing me to stand up. “Where’s Bucky?” I glace back at Howard to see he seemed to realize something I didn’t as he excused himself and fled the room. “Madi…” Steve started. He cleared his throat. “You should take a seat.” Suddenly afraid, I take a seat and watch as Steve paces before he comes and takes a seat in front of me. He doesn’t look me in the eye as we sit in this tense, awkward silence, and I just say his name again. “Steve?” “We were on the train,” he started and I could feel my heart thundering in my chest. Something bad happened, that much I knew. But what was it? “Gabe was making his way to the control car from the top while Bucky and I went down below. “There wasn’t anybody down where we were, so… We continued on and Bucky crept forward into another car while I stayed behind as cover, but then this door shut and then three soldiers popped out of nowhere on Bucky’s side while a machine came to life in mine. Well, I fought it, and when I checked back in on Buck, I saw that he had no more ammo left. I opened the door and tossed him another one and we took out the last soldier. “However, before we could catch our breath, the robot-thing I was fighting powered back up and shot at us. I pushed him out of the way and held up the shield to block it, you know? It did nothing but create this big hole in the side of the train and throw me off balance. “It was getting ready to fire again, but I wasn’t quick enough getting up. So, Bucky grabbed the shield and shot at the robot with his gun, and the robot shot at him. He wasn’t strong enough to take the blow. He flew back and out the side of the train. “I threw my shield at the thing and it fell down so I ran over to see if Bucky was okay and he was holding on to the train. When I realized I could save him, I climbed onto it and tried to reach out and grab him, but…the handrail he was holding on broke off and he fell down. He’s gone, Mads.” The tears that had started halfway through the story began to come out like rain. My heart hurt so bad; I think it hurt just a little more than it did when my mom died. Why? It was so unexpected. I curl into myself as the tears continue. Ugly sobs make themselves known, and I can’t find the will to make myself stop. “I am so sorry, Madison,” Steve says. I can hear the pain in his voice, but I don’t – can’t – bring myself to look at him. I just shake my head and I can hear his chair scrape against the ground and his footsteps approach me. “Don’t,” I sob as I look at the ground. “Steve – please. I just – I can’t even look at you right now…” “I’m sorry, Madison,” he said softly this time before I heard him leave. With him gone, I push my neat piles of paper to the floor and rest my arms on the table, burying my face into them. A million and one thoughts rang through my mind, to just this morning when we were talking about pasta and my important talk. Ugh! I wish I’d told him sooner; maybe he wouldn’t have gone. After a while, I begin to pick up the mess I made during a mini freak out I’d had where I’d strewn papers in random directions, only the papers on my desk. Even in my grief-stricken rage, I knew messing up Howard’s papers and projects would be an awful thing to do. Once the papers are all organized, I take a seat at the table once more. My eyes read over the last paper I signed, wondering how I could be so carefree then and then have my world turned upside down in another moment. It just did not make sense. A soft knock on the door broke me from my thoughts, and I stared at the door wondering who it could be, but making no other move to find out. The door opened after a second knock and I see Peggy standing there. She attempts to smile, but I avert my eyes. “Oh, Madison,” she sighs. I hear her heels clicking against the floor as she approaches me. I can’t seem to get myself together quickly enough to tell her to just leave me alone. She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug on her end and I feel myself starting to get choked up again. I rest my head on her, feeling more tears. “I am truly sorry for your loss, my girl,” she whispered into my hair. “But you are strong, and I know that you can get through this.” I nod my head, and let Peggy hold me for another few minutes. “I just…I wish he knew,” I choke out. “He does now,” Peggy said. She knew what it was I needed to talk to Bucky about. She was the one who came with me to get my pregnancy test done. “I suppose,” I mumble. Peggy relaxes her grip slightly and I know that Steve needs her more that I do. I might’ve lost my husband, but Steve lost his best friend as well. “Have you seen Steve yet?” “Not yet, I wanted to see how you were first.” “Thank you, Peg. He probably needs you more though…they were friends since before I was even born.” “Are you sure?” “I’m sure, go. It’s okay,” I assure my friend. She gives me another quick squeeze before taking her leave. Another however-long-it-is passes by before I can get up and walk around the room. I go to the bathroom and wipe away the tearstains and smeared makeup. I splash several handfuls of cool water on my face to help the redness in my face go away. “I am okay,” I tell myself. “I will be fine.” I write out a few notes for Howard for what he does with the papers, as well as apologizing because I don’t think I would be in for a few days and that I hoped he understands. I finish up what I’m doing, and pack up my bag and slip on my coat and get a ride home, where I don’t even feel the urge to put together something to eat. I find my way to the room where I peel off almost all my clothes and use one of the ones on the floor as a PJ shirt. Crawling into bed, I lay on Bucky’s side praying that this was all some twisted dream and that Bucky would come home in the middle of the night and wake me up.

[fandammit]

When you need directions, then I’ll be the guide (1/2)

[A/N: A few days late and a two-parter because I don’t know how to write short things for the Kastle fic/art exchange. A gift for @allmyfuckingobsessions for her lovely road trip aesthetic, found here. Can be read as part of the same world as Loss like the sharp edges of a knife, though you don’t have to read that to enjoy this.]

“Hey, Frank?”

He looks up from his book and meets her eyes across the small cafe table. She gives him a small, close-lipped smile that makes the corners of his own mouth turn up on instinct.

“Are you free this weekend?”

He closes his book and folds his arms across his chest as he nods. Doesn’t even have to think about his answer.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Do you want to take a trip? With me, I mean.” She leans forward, her hair dropping over her face. She clears her throat and pushes the strands back behind her ear as she worries her top lip with her teeth.

Of course there is no other answer for him than yes, and he thinks she must know that. He wonders if she’s asking only out of some sense of obligation — if her restlessness is borne out of her worry that he’ll agree.

“I do.” He uncross his arms and shrugs, rests his hand on the table top. “But only if you want me to.”

She smiles at him, the edges of it more relaxed now as her shoulders drop down a fraction.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

He tilts his head at her.

“You sure? Cuz you seem — uh — .” He motions towards her. “Nervous or worried, and — .”

She shakes her head and reaches across the table to rest her hand on top of his. It’s not the first or fifth or even fifteenth time she’s done it. They've spent much of the last month together, in stark contrast to the nearly 12 months prior they've spent orbiting one another, circling the same paths but never crossing.

Now, his morning runs end with him having early morning coffee with Karen before she heads to work. Nights not spent at the boxing gym or out with Curtis are reserved for alternating dinners at one another’s apartment.  

Karen’s a tactile person — or at least, she is with him. Fingertips lightly tapping a rhythm on his wrist as she rereads a sentence that needs reworking; a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him forward in her tiny kitchen as she brushes past him as he's cooking dinner; her feet tucked up underneath his leg as they watch a movie on her couch.  

And of course he, too, has never been as closed off with her as he is in other parts of his life. He catalogues the touches between them that he initiates, because he’s the type of man who might; because these are the type of feelings where each one matters.

Often: a hand at the small of her back as he introduces her to Curtis, to David, to Paul at the boxing gym, to Mrs. Abaya at the animal shelter. Sometimes: a brush of his fingertips against back of her hand as he hands her a cup of coffee. Very rarely: his palm lingering on her cheek as he tucks a fallen strand of hair back behind her ear.

Still, her hand on his makes him smile. He shifts his hand so that her fingers are wrapped up in his, his thumb gently brushing over the ridges of her knuckles.  

She smiles softly at the movement and takes a deep breath, squeezing his hand as she leans forward.

“I came to New York with two suitcases. Just clothes, some jewelry. No photos or, um, keepsakes or…anything from home, really.” She looks down at their clasped hands, pulling at her top lip with her teeth as mulls over her words. “I was the only around to pack up the house I grew up in when I left. I should’ve sold all the stuff or…” She shrugs and looks away from him for a moment, makes a sad sound that’s halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Thrown it all out, probably, but —.” She looks back at him and runs her hand through her hair and shakes her head. “I didn’t. I just put it all in storage and have never been back ever since.”

There’s a sad, faraway look in her eyes as she speaks, the same one he always notices when she brings up her life before New York. She doesn’t talk about that part of her life often — a late night story about Kevin, now almost four years dead; a short mention of a busy father and a distant mother; allusions to some tragic series of events.

He'd be lying if he said he's not desperate to know more about it. As much as he knows about her — the fact that maple coffee cake is her favorite pastry, that a furrow appears between her brows when she’s looking at a particularly difficult sentence, the color of her eyes in the early morning light versus in the lamp light of her living room — there’s so much about her that remains a mystery to him. And while he thinks he could just look her up — or have David do so — he knows more than anyone that there are some things meant to be spoken out loud, eyes locked on one another, rather than read on paper.

Karen draws herself up and clears her throat, shaking him free from his own thoughts.

“Anyway, I got a call last night from the storage company saying that the land got bought out and they need to transfer all their units. They wanted to know what I wanted to do with all my stuff and I figured — .” She glances over at him from the corner of her eye as she shrugs. “I figured that I should finally go through it all — decide what I want to keep and what I should throw out.”

He nods slowly, taking in her words and turning them over in his mind.

“And you want me there with you for that?”

She nods.

“Yeah, I do.” She takes a deep breath and gives him a soft, small smile. "I really, really do.”

He smiles in return, warmth blooming in the center of his chest and spreading outward. He squeezes her hand and twines his fingers in hers, then nods.

“Ok.”

They leave early Saturday morning. They’re both early risers anyway and Karen wants to get to the storage unit as soon as it opens, which means he shows up at her apartment before the sun has even broken over the horizon.

They decided to take his truck because neither of them trust Karen’s car to even make it to the city limits, much less the 245 miles it’ll take to get to Fagan Corners. Plus, Karen made a reference while they were planning to an apple orchard along the way — a little out of the way place at the end of a bumpy, country road that she’d always wanted to go to as a kid.

So, of course he’d called ahead and made sure they were open that day.

He waits a few moments in his truck to see if Karen has seen him pull up and is coming down on her own. When she doesn’t, he reaches behind him and pets Gracie, her tail wagging as she looks up at Karen’s apartment.

He grins.

“I’ll be right back, girl,” he says quietly, scratching her behind the ears. “And I’m sure Karen will have a treat for you when I do.” Gracie perks up at the sound of Karen’s name and he chuckles at that. Sometimes he thinks she likes Karen more than she likes him, which makes him feel like she was definitely the right dog for him.

Just as he gets out of his truck, Karen emerges from the front door of her apartment building. She’s wearing dark blue, cutoff jean shorts and a dark grey shirt, her hair in loose waves around her face. And while it’s not the first time he’s seen her wearing something other than work clothes, it’s still rare enough that he finds himself momentarily breathless. There’s an easy sort of beauty to Karen, one that radiates out especially when she’s in something as ordinary as jeans in a t-shirt on a quiet Saturday morning.  

She smiles when she sees him and adjusts the bag on her shoulder as she holds up two cups of coffee in either hand from Vigilantes. And even though he could just wait by his truck until she gets to him, he's drawn to her and that smile, and finds himself jogging across the street to meet her halfway.

He takes the proffered coffee cup in her hand, then, because he both wants to and wants to revel in the reality that he’s able to, he leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

She tilts her head and the smile on her face dips into something more apologetic before she motions to the truck.

“I figured it was the least I could do since you’re going to spend an entire Saturday driving back and forth to a random little town in the middle of Vermont.”

He shakes his head and nudges her with his shoulder as they walk back to his truck. He could say that he had nothing else to do, that he’s never been to Vermont in the fall, that her hometown isn’t just a random little town to him.

And those things are all true. But because it’s Karen, and because he’s always tried to be his most genuine self with her, he instead says the most honest thing he can say.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

They spend about five minutes going through the radio stations before Karen gives up on them and just connects her phone to the truck’s bluetooth.

“Any requests?” She asks, scrolling down her phone.

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Just none of that shit that makes me sleepy.”

Karen grins.

“Ok, so no indie.”

He glances over at her phone.

“What do you have on there?”

She shrugs.

“I have Spotify premium, so I have pretty much anything you want.”

He nods.

“They got any, uh, road trip mixes on there or something like that?”

Karen lights up, and he finds himself ridiculously pleased at being the cause for it.

“Good idea.” She taps her fingers a few times on the screen, then laughs quietly. “Ok, no, you’d hate these.”

He furrows his brows as he glances over at her.

“I might not.”

She arches a brow at him and starts playing one. He gets about 30 seconds into a song with an easy baseline, clapping sounds and a young man singing a string of nonsensical, repetitive words before he looks back over at her.

“Ok, you’re right, I hate this.”

She laughs and stops the song, and for a few minutes there’s only silence and the sound of her tapping the screen every few seconds.

“I think I have one. It’s called Classic Road Trip Songs, so I feel like you’d like it.”

The opening drumbeat of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” start to come through the speakers and he grins.

“No better start.” He looks over at her. “What else is on this?”

“Creedence Clearwater Revival…the Allman Brothers…Johnny Cash.” He nods along to each artist, then looks over to find her grinning over at him. “And also a few fun surprises that I’m sure you’ll love.”

“So, I’ll hate them?”

Karen laughs.

“It depends how you feel about 90’s pop music.”

“I’m, uh, sure not very well.”

Bruce Springsteen is followed by The Kinks, which is then followed by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

The first surprising song turns out to Smash Mouth’s “All Star,” which he feels like is a disputable song to put on a playlist called Classic Road Trip Songs.  

He doesn’t say so though, because Karen grins brightly over at him the minute the opening bars come through the speakers and then almost immediately starts singing along softly in the seat next to him. And even though he does, in fact, hate the song, he also wasn’t immune to the fact that there was a point in time where you essentially couldn’t escape it.

He joins in the second time the chorus comes around, his own deep voice matching surprisingly well with the lead singer’s. Karen stops singing completely, staring at him in complete shock before her face breaks into the brightest smile he’s seen from her as she sidles closer to him, her high voice joining his as they sing along to the rest of the song.  

It’s silly and saccharine and utterly ridiculous, and some deeper part of him thinks about the absurdity of a man nicknamed the Punisher singing along to some upbeat pop song from a one-hit 90’s band.

But that line of thinking is drowned out in the flood of music and the press of Karen next to him, is supplanted by the weighty feeling of happiness settling into his bones and falling into the lines of his smile.

He thinks that this silly, absurd moment is the happiest he’s been in a long time.

And part of him even thinks that, despite it all, he might deserve it, too.

[jernal]

A Day in Inpatient Eating Disorder Treatment

It’s Monday, weekday 1/5 (unless you’re still new or untrustworthy because then you’re here all weekend too; no leave), breakfast is at 08:00 but we have to be in the lounge at 07:00 for bloodwork. I set my alarm for 06:30. I need this. My alarm starts quiet and gets louder but my brain jolts awake at the first tone; I’m so worried my roommate Miranda is growing to resent me and my alarm. I shower at night so I can get up and out quietly. I’m always tip-toeing. I’m tired though so it takes me a minute to peel myself off of my starchy hospital sheets. I didn’t sleep well because overnight every 20 minutes a nurse walks into our room with her iPhone flashlight on, shining it in our faces and whispering “checks” as if I might not know why she’s here. Sometimes I hold my eyes wide-open, staring, just to unnerve the night nurses. There were two Code-Whites last night too. Alarms and screaming. In Ottawa, the Regional Centre for the Treatment of Eating Disorders (AKA: your only option) is made up of just six beds on the locked general psych ward. Fourth floor, north wing. Code White, Four North. Code Blanc, Quatre Nord. So I get up and tip toe out of my room and into the half-lit hallway. I no longer care about how socially unacceptable it is to walk around a place full of people in my sleep clothes and bare feet. I’m wearing a purple nightgown with thin straps and a low open back; it’s cute. I walk to the nurses station and stand by the reinforced glass window waiting to be noticed by the clerk. It’s Bruno. He never fails to have a positive attitude and light sense of humour - it must not be easy to do in a place like this. He knows that I’m here to ask for my curling iron or straightener. I switch it up every morning. He waves it in front of the glass like a treat in front of a dog. I am the dog. I have no power. He means it as a joke though and I do appreciate him. I have to say please and thank you to him - he doesn’t tolerate my teenager attitude; I’m 24, but living in an environment where I have no rights and am at the mercy of a wide variety of older-adults has made my sass-control regress a bit. While I wait for Bruno there’s a man with long dreadlocks wearing a hospital gown, spinning circles and popping wheelies in a wheelchair close by. I usually avoid interacting with general psych patients but he talks to me a bit. He tells me he killed someone and he’s here until he can be assessed, then he’s probably going back to jail. He seems more sane than the majority of gen psych patients and I’ve never see him before so I talk to him till I have my curling iron. I have to return it once it’s cooled, I’m not allowed to have cords. 

I sneak into our bathroom and close the door before I turn on the light. I’m really concerned with people potentially hating me, letting a stream of blinding light escape from the bathroom would make me easily hate-able. I do my hair and then sit on my bed to do my makeup. Miranda is up by now and I can turn on a light. I take time to do my makeup and my hair, I pick out an outfit and I don’t outfit-repeat for as long as possible. This seems stupid but looking like myself is the one of the few things I have control over. I will not become a sweatpant-wearing, dirty hair, slipper-footed hospital patient. I’m here for a long time and I’m going to gain weight and struggle with that - I don’t need to struggle with feeling ugly and frumpy too. I apply my usual false lashes. 

It’s 06:50 now. The six of us have an unspoken arrangement when it comes to bloodwork: first come, first serve, first leave. The two smokers, Nate and Amy are usually first. We meet in one of the two lounges. There are a couple psych patients in there too. One is an old man in his hospital gown going hard on the elliptical in the corner. There’s just the one exercise machine, it’s pretty random and for some of us it’s very hard to ignore; we could risk being discharged on the spot for getting on that thing. The room otherwise has a TV encased in plexiglass on the wall, a variety of leatherish couches, chairs, some tables, two vending machines and a small shelving unit with mushy ancient puzzles and boardgames. None of them have all their pieces, that’s a guarantee. The nurse is 15 minutes late, pushing her cart in casually like we haven’t been waiting anxiously to do bloodwork and get the fuck out. I don’t mind needles. I watch. Once I’m done I head to the set of double doors of 4 North. I have to have Bruno buzz the first set unlocked, walk into the vestibule, wait for it to close behind me and have him unlock the second set. I’m going to Critical Care; it’s a huge open space with the Tim Hortons (not the Second Cup that’s closer but yuckier) and giant windows and couches. I bring a book and sit with my coffee as long as possible. I won’t be alone again all day.

I come back up at 07:55 and wait in the hall outside our special EDP kitchen. The gen psych population eats in the lounge or in their rooms. Some of them are aware that we have our own special room but not aware enough to understand why. Sometimes they yell about it. Once, a non-verbal man came in and took the glass base out of our microwave and we had to pull an alarm because our nurse had left briefly. Our nurse this morning is a bitch. I can’t put it any nicer. Her name is Brenda and we got off on the most wrongest foot ever. There’s a general belief that people with eating disorders are sneaky, manipulative liars. I fancy myself a rational adult and choosing to recover in this way was hard enough; it makes no sense to me at all that I’d voluntarily leave my job and move onto this ward just to lie and sneak around and try to lose weight and be symptomatic. She didn’t talk to me or get to know who I am before deciding I was bad. Seeing her walk down the hall, realizing she was our nurse for the 7-3 shift, makes my stomach flip. It causes me more anxiety than the meal itself. I spoke with the ward manager a few weeks ago though, Brenda apologized to me. She was wrong and treating me unfairly, for no reason evident to me. She still makes me anxious though. She’s late but she doesn’t apologize. If we’re late we’re actually punished with having to eat more at snack time. Punishing an unrelated infraction with food - now that’s logical. During Breakfast, we turn a radio on so it’s not silent. Brenda talks though - she’s famous for it. She’ll keep talking even though no one responds. She’ll keep talking even after we’re finished and waiting for her to start check-out. Breakfast is one of the worst meals in the day. In the wise words of Nate, my best friend in this hell-hole, “this meal makes no sense”, and they’ll chastise us saying meals don’t have to ‘make sense’ but having toast, a muffin with cream cheese on it, an apple and a glass of milk is a lot. But wait, cause if you’ve ordered a bran muffin with cream cheese too often (‘too often’ is completely based on the opinion of the power-tripping dietician, Shelley) you might get a bran muffin and…. a piece of plastic-wrapped, room-temperature cheddar cheese. This meal makes NO sense. So you down each piece as quick as possible because, that’s totally normal and not disordered eating, right? Yuck. When we start passing our plates to the person closest to the dish cart Brenda wraps up her latest anecdote, sighs, then turns to her side and asks the nearest one of us how their breakfast was. We have to say something positive - how this helps our recovery, (lying when necessary to come up with an acceptable response) I’m not sure. I say “I liked the muffin.”. Nate raises his eyebrows a tiny bit, tilts his head sharply and says “my omelette was the same temperature as my milk” and I stifle a laugh. He is a barista in the real world and he has a chalkboard-painted travel mug. Every day he writes something on it, every day I look forward to it. Today he’s written “Day 42: one lump, or two? “‘six’” - Shelley”. Last Friday's mug said “Day 39: to have your pancake and eat it too”. 

The day is spent in groups. There’s CBT group, led by a Nurse Practitioner, Simin, who is almost like a psychologist… except not at all. There’s family and relationships groups: open-circle groups led by Stephanie, an actual psychologist who can only speak in that whispery therapeutic tone shrinks develop. These groups drive me insane because it’s completely unstructured and we might spend the hour listening to some rambly, whiney story about someone’s mom. I’m a bitch though. It helps that person to talk, but hearing about five other people’s problems doesn’t benefit me at all. I have a therapist in the real world, I want to exempt myself from these groups. There’s body image, the ONLY group led by the psychiatrist who runs the inpatient program. There’s DBT where we just watch one patient draw a chain of events and we analyze the shit out of it for an hour. There’s ‘take charge’ group led by Jodie, a social worker, where we made resumes…. (most of us are adults with jobs), There’s medical education run by Simin again, the NP, possibly the only valid group although she chooses a topic at random and it’s very basic information, I truly appreciated the group where she explained that ‘gluten-free’ diets are a bullshit trend. There’s a group led by Shelley the dietician where we learn about the food pyramid and how milk is good for you.

Lunch is at noon. 2 starches, 2 protein, 1 vegetable, 1 fat, 1 fruit, 2 dairy. Afterwards we do menu marking. We sit together and circle the meals on wide menu sheets that we’ll have for the next five days. It’s so stressful I know ahead of time to ask for a PRN. I request clonazepam. In my pre-treatment life, I used this med as a sleep aid. Now it doesn’t affect my wakefulness in the slightest. I’m so anxious it barely does anything at all. I struggle immensely writing out my future five days. Trying to do it ‘right’. Trying to pick the ‘right’ things. Trying not to forget any portions. I hand over the sheets of marked menus to Brenda or Shelley and they skim it and accept it or point out flaws. I don’t trust the acceptance anyway, Shelley might make changes later without my consent. Why bother giving us this ‘responsibility’ and ‘control’ and ‘choice’ if you’re going to make changes later without warning and our food comes up with something senseless and surprising that we’re forced to consume anyway? Mixing food & eating with a sense of insecurity and distrust. Excellent. Oh, did I mention that if we’re late to group, chewing gum etc, we might also be punished by having one menu taken away, meaning one of our days meals will be totally redone by whoever is in charge at the time. It’s no wonder that this task and these people are actually giving me bigger trust issues and general anxiety than I probably came in here with. 

We also meet with the psychiatrist, Dr. Proulx, on Mondays. This is the only time we see her besides Body Image group, DBT sometimes, and Feedback (which is Tuesdays, a long table with all staff and all 6 of us) and it is the only time we see anyone on EDP staff one-on-one… and even then, Simin The NP is usually present as well. Throughout my time in program I won’t ever understand the purpose of this ‘one-on-one’ meeting besides to discuss medication. When I was admitted Dr. Proulx questioned the medication I’m on and suggested going off of it and trying something more fitting. I’m on Limotrigine, an anti-convulsant used off-label as a mood stabilizer for bipolar and schizophrenia. She didn’t know me or my history, decided it was the wrong medication, but then didn’t do anything to change it.

At 3pm, the nurses switch shifts. It’s a gamble, there are a few nurses who are true gems and a few who are new and/or unfamiliar with the psych ward. None of the nurses are specialized in eating disorders, they’re just trained nurses who happened to end up on the psych ward and then happened to end up assigned to us. Despite the clear lack of formal training or understanding, some try to psychoanalyze or offer impromptu therapy sessions. On one of my first days, a filipino nurse with broken english came in to ask me how my first shower was. I wanted to tell her it was worse than the public pool showers I remember vaguely from my childhood swimming lessons but I figured she wouldn’t get my dark sense of humour and just nod along knowingly, supportively, ahh yes, I see. But does she see? My bathroom comes equipped with two milk crates stacked sideways forming a sort of shelving unit for us to store tiny hospital towels. I have my razor hidden between a few of them, I just can’t stand having to ask for it every second day and I am not a self-harm risk. None of us are; self-harm = automatic discharge. The bathroom has a stand up shower, no shower curtain, just an open doorway beside a metal shower head protruding from the wall. Our bathroom door has no locks and our room’s door has a towel wrapped around the handles, preventing it from closing fully. My roommate has a huge problem with the lack of security and lack of privacy. She sleeps in a sleeping bag on top of her bed. The filipino nurse asked me if I had any urges and on my first day I was naive enough to not know what the hell she meant, asking nervously knowing my roommate was on her bed behind our divider curtain, certainly hearing this exchange, and the nurse clarified by miming cutting her wrists. Yep, definitely not a mental health professional. At 3pm I’m overjoyed to see our nurse is Barb. Colleen is a close second best-case-scenario, a warm, smiley woman with a kind voice and a motherly demeanour. Barb is funny and also very kind. She holds one of us back at random after dinner to check-in and unlike every other nurses attempts at therapeutic conversations, I do enjoy chatting with Barb. She believes me when I tell her I didn’t mean to cut my meat up into ‘too-small’ pieces, she believes me when I tell her that’s not an ED behaviour I have. She believes me when I say I know what I’m doing here, what I mean to accomplish, what my goal is; I mean to spend my 8 weeks (that’s the max, I had decided right away) eating well-rounded meals and gaining some weight. I know I’m sick, I know I have an eating disorder and I know I’m doing serious damage to myself, she hears me when I say this. She believes me, and more importantly, she respects my decision, when I tell her I’m not looking to work on issues relating to past relationships, family, self. I’ve worked with half a dozen therapists by now, I know that 8 weeks in an artificial environment made up of 90% group therapy sessions is not the place for me to open up about any and all issues, I know it won’t help and could actually hurt. Barb hears me and believes me. I respect her for respecting me and treating me like a rational adult. Dr. Proulx tells me that anorexia is not rational, therefore I am not rational. It’s like she doesn’t think that eating disorders are mental illnesses, and I can be level-headed and rational about any other area of my life. I feel distrust and scrutiny from almost every direction. I’m a perfectionist and feeling like I am failing constantly is extremely distressing. Not feeling approval from those in charge of my care and recovery is really hard for me. 

Dinner with Barb is nice though, and often times meals are ok. The food isn’t all terrible. I did make a dire mistake of selecting a ‘salisbury steak’ not actually knowing what it was but knowing what steak was and knowing I was in The Red Meat Club (low iron) so I didn’t have a lot of choice anyway. Salisbury steak, the hospital kind at least, is something I don’t ever wanna see or smell .. or taste.. again. Imagine how hard it was finding a positive to share with the group after that surprise. I also tried my very first Shawarma here in the EDP kitchen. It was pretty good. We’re a bit lucky because EDP gets extra menu options and they’re good ones like Stir Fry of the Day, different sometimes but good almost always. Barb is nice but she’s just as strict as the rest of the team, things can still go bad real quick - like someone throwing a pudding cup across the table, scattering silverware and cups everywhere. I leave the kitchen when Barb said “ok you all can go except….” and she chooses someone she’s been wanting to chat with, hasn’t seen around much, etc. It’s not me today.

What’s difficult about the routine after dinner is that unless it’s the one day a week where we have our glorified arts and crafts group (therapeutic creative expression?) we have 2+ hours to kill. We have visitors or we hang out or just hide behind our curtains watching Netflix on our laptops. If we have arts and crafts, whichever nurse happens to be on shift that night picks an activity at random, I think they must google it 20 minutes prior, and we’re expected to do the activity as if it’s crucial to our progress and recovery. The only example I can even think of is when Brenda told us to “draw what having a life looks like” and in her better-than-thee way, left it at that. So poetic and profound and intentional. I basically regressed back to my oppositional high school self, took her directions exactly literally and sketched a perfect anatomical fetus in utero. That’s what it looks like when someone “has a life” inside them. Everyone else did what I knew she wanted; smiley faces and playing outside and friends and family and food and stuff. No. I’m an artist. I won’t conform. 

 Since dinner is at 5pm, night snack feels miles away at 8pm and that’s great except then we’ve eaten (sometimes several things) so late before bed it makes relaxing enough to sleep really difficult. I have graduated to a meal plan where even at snacks I have to consume what feels (to my body) like a LOT of food. Because I’m still not gaining weight as fast as they think I should be, I’ve had an Ensure Plus Calories added to my meal plan. I have a Chocolate Ensure Plus Calories with a pack of 4 two-bite brownies. At 8:00pm, after a solid dinner and a solid day of solid meals. I regret immensely choosing this too-chocolatey snack combo. No point wishing it wasn’t so, I sit down with my things. We all scan across the table to see what everyone else has. No one is jealous of me. We came in on our own and are waiting for Barb but she’s actually taking her dinner so Nurse Will comes in. Nurse Will is a hottie, or at least.. the hottie. There aren’t a lot to choose from (although, pro-tip: set your Tinder location settings to as narrow as possible and you’ll pick up a lot of nurses and doctors in here). Nurse Will has helped out with EDP nurses on occasion but never on snack with us. He seems a little uncomfortable, not sure what routine we follow. I open my brownie packet and discover there are 5 and not 4. I panic. I look around wildly trying to catch someone’s attention. Amy sees me first, sigh of relief, Mom might help me. My voice cracks and I tell Will there’s an extra brownie it’s only supposed to be 4. I know this is not an anorexia thing, but I know normal people would be delighted by an extra brownie, but normal people don’t also have to down the 400 calories of chocolate ensure I do. I’m already challenging myself so much and oh jesus god if he makes me eat the 5th one that I was never supposed to have I’ll throw a proper fit. I’ll get myself discharged. But he makes one joke about how ‘oh I guess you have to eat it!” but my look of terror had him quiet down and say it’s all good if they say so? Confirmation from my team that it’s ok if I don’t eat the 5th brownie. We do that too, sometimes someone has an issue and the team weighs in and says well I had that food too so it’s ok for you to, or maybe hmmm that is a lot of rice if you’re not ‘challenging’ this meal. My life was in their hands but they unanimously agreed that 4 is the normal in those bags. Safe. Well, still very full of heavy, rich, chocolatey calories. Camille gives me a shy smile and thumbs up from across the table. I remember the first time she did this to me, my first day here and I was pushed into lunch with 5 people I didn’t know, a room I’d never been in, a sandwich I didn’t like. And I cried. And cried and cried. Quietly as possible, because surely the other 5 people were uncomfortable. But I looked up and Camille was waiting for me to look up, her hand clenched in a thumbs-up of encouragement. I wanted to cry and run away and I was so embarrassed and this stranger was being more kind than she needed to be.

After snack I jump in the shower. As quickly as human possible because as I’ve mentioned, our shower is drafty, the shower head is such a little nub on the wall that you have to press your back flush with the cringey tiles to be under the shower head’s spray zone. I don’t stop thinking about what I’d do if the bathroom door suddenly flew open. After, I dry off using 3 scratchy little hospital towels and walk down the hall to drop em in a laundry bin. I grab new ones cause I need to rebury my razor in them. My MacBook and it’s charger are under my mattress. 

At night I usually hang out with Nate. We might go down so he can smoke and for my last dose of fresh air for the night. Back on the ward, we sit up on the counter outside my room and watch the nightly traffic go by. We read IKEA catalogues, make up backstories for patients. We watch this NBA sized guy pacing slowly, dragging his catatonic feet but managing to have feverish conversations with the people in his head. Otherwise, the hallway traffic tour slows and we have some quiet. We sit in the lounge watching the other nurses all doing checks together and chatting. Eventually Nurse Jillian will firmly encourage us to go to our rooms. It’s probably 1am but I’ll be up at 6:30am and tip toe out of bed to start this all over again. 

Except tomorrow is Tuesday, We’ll have Feedback at a round table with the whole EDP staff, all 6 of us, and go round the table one-by-one one staff delivering the feedback of all to the one patient. Feedback is maybe more stressful than Menu Marking but not usually for me. I go into Feedback having faith that these professionals discussed and shared their thoughts, that I can’t get bad feedback because I’ve done nothing but try to do everything right. Feedback can change everything for some… not for me…..  until the time that it does. 

But that’s another Day in Inpatient Eating Disorders Treatment. A Tuesday