#it’s 2am i can’t fucking sleep so i’m gonna mess with me in three months

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 8.1k words

warnings: explicit language, angst, fluff, smut (18+)

summary: it’s ten months of texts, phone calls, voicemails, anything to make it feel like everything isn’t too different. and for the most part, it works. until you and steve finally see each other again

EPILOGUE | ❝𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆❞

You: How’s New York so far?

Steve: Good aside from Tom trying to force me to do more press stuff than what we initially agreed on and I’ve only been here three days

You: I kinda miss that british man

Steve: That truly offends me</3

You: I’m sorry<3

You: Okay very very important question

You: Empire State of Mind or Welcome to New York?

Steve: ???? 

You: You’re in New York for the next month so one of them has to be your signature song (and yes this is coming from the person that has only been to New York a handful of times. shut up don’t mention it) 

Steve: Can I say no to both of them?

You: No.

Steve: Okay then 

Steve: The Taylor Swift one

You: Solid answer

You: Now I will start your morning right every day you’re there by sending you lyrics from that song :) 

Steve: Oh god

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve: What was the name of that show we watched for almost five hours at your place that one night?

You: It sincerely hurts me that you forgot the name of Brooklyn Nine-Nine….

Steve: Yes, that’s it! I was thinking about this one episode we watched of it but I couldn’t remember the name

You: Are you about to watch it without me? (if the answer is yes that hurts me even more)

Steve: Yes I was… But now no way I would never watch it without you

You: A true friend. Thank you 

Steve: Oh wait I’m just now realizing how late it is where you are. How are you even talking to me right now? 

You: Yeah, it’s 2am but I can’t sleep. First day of real filming tomorrow. First day being AD. And yes all the pre-production stuff me and Jessie have been doing since we got to Spain two weeks ago has been perfectly leading to this moment, but now it just feels so fucking real and even though I know I’m not gonna mess up or anything I’m still nervous

Steve: You’re gonna do great and actually I think it’s impossible for you not to be really good at what you do  

You: Thank you

Steve: I would suggest that I call you and we watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to take your mind off things but you should sleep 

You: No actually can we do that? I’m wide awake right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon 

You: Also fun fact: I’m actually able to function better when I’m running on barely three hours of sleep 

Steve: That’s a huge lie but okay

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“… Please leave a message after the beep.”

You listened to the all-too familiar sound of the “beep” and then began speaking. “Okay, I know it’s like three in the morning in LA right now, so it completely makes sense why you didn’t answer. But, anyway, I just landed in London last night and now it’s morning and I’m at the coffee shop that you told me I should go to while I’m here.” 

“It’s really, really great, and I hate how right you are about the tea being amazing, and it actually makes me change my mind about how much I dislike tea. Oh, also, I got my first ever British scone from here and it’s so good too. I think I’ll probably be spending every day at this place while I’m here for the next month.”

“And I know you raved a lot about the breakfast sandwiches here too, so I will try that tomorrow. I think you said that the bacon one was your favorite, but please confirm that because I can’t fully remember… Oh, wait, nevermind, it’s definitely the bacon because I do remember you saying that you miss it a lot.”

“I could bring you one back if you want? No, wait, actually, that wouldn’t make sense because even when I leave London, I’m still gonna be in Europe for three more months… Wait, I see that they sell coffee mugs here, though, so I could definitely bring you back that if you wanted me to? They have some cool options.” 

“Alright, I think I’m just rambling at this point so let me shut up.” You let out a small laugh. “Okay, bye.” 

Call Ended

-

You: *image attached* 

You: Enjoy that picture of me being the most touristy tourist in the world :) 

Steve: I can’t believe you’re doing the leaning tower of pisa pose thing

You: I had to. I couldn’t come here and not do it. It feels like tradition. A rite of passage, if you will

Steve: You’re such a dork 

You: Joke’s on you because I fully take that as a compliment, so thank you 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The feeling of your phone vibrating in the back pocket of the jeans you were wearing surprised you because you thought you had turned it off for the day. And then seeing Steve’s name take over your phone screen further surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.  

“Hi,” You said. You were on a break for the first time that day, so the timing of his call was actually kind of perfect. “This is a pretty nice surprise.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” It felt really good actually hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like forever.  

“Pretty good. I never thought I’d actually find myself truly missing LA, but now I kinda can’t wait to be back there in three weeks,” You answered, saying what had been on your mind for a while at this point. “How’s Vancouver?” 

“Nice so far. It’s actually been snowing a lot, but I like it.” 

“I hope you've been doing all of the snow and Winter activities; making snow angels, sledding down hills. Y’know, all the stuff they do in children’s Christmas movies.” 

You almost immediately heard Steve laugh at your words. “The apartment I’m staying at here has a balcony, and last night after it stopped snowing I made a really small snowman.” 

You smiled. “I love that. Please send me a picture of it.” 

“Okay.”

Things became quiet for a moment, and it was a silence that easily felt comfortable and you didn’t mind it at all. Simply knowing that Steve was on the other end of the call felt like enough. 

“This is a random thought, but we never usually talk on the phone. Mainly because our time zones are insanely different, so the timing is never right, and we’re either leaving each other voicemails or just texting, which is fine. But it’s really nice hearing your voice. It’s just… really comforting.” You let out a soft breath. “Where I am right now and where I’ve been the past five-ish months have become my makeshift “homes,” but talking to you actually feels like home, in a way… And I know exactly how disgustingly cheesy that sounds. Don’t say anything about it, or I will end this call.”

Steve laughed a bit. “No, I agree with you. We’ve talked about feeling lonely before, but even though we haven’t seen each other in what feels like a really long time, whenever we text and especially when we talk on the phone, it’s hard to feel lonely. It’s like all of these miles between us don’t really matter, which is nice. You’re my “home” too.”

You were quiet for a second, fully taking in his words and smiling at how happy they made you feel. It was the kind of happiness where you also kind of felt like crying. 

You loved what you had been doing currently with your job and you wouldn’t have changed any of it, but you also really wished that you could see Steve right then; you would’ve killed for a hug.  

“Okay, I think I should go before I start crying,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Also, I only have ten more minutes of my break, and I haven’t eaten since this morning.” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, don’t be sorry. Like I said, I really like when we can actually talk to each other. I like hearing your voice.” 

“I like hearing yours too,” He told you and somehow it was easy to hear the smile in his tone. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up now. Go eat something.”

“Aye, aye captain,” You said with a small laugh. “Talk to you soon.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You: I just watched the final cut of Fear of Lonesome with Jessie… Enjoy this picture of me currently bawling my eyes out at the ending

You: *image attached*

Steve: Sorry for making you cry?

You: It was worth it, honestly

Steve: You’re coming to the cast and crew screening next week right?

You: Of course. I will happily cry at this movie again :)

You: It’s kinda really fucked up how good of an actor you are 

Steve: Thank you? At least I think that’s a compliment

You: It is<3

You: Anyway I’ll see you next week then

You: The first time in a really really long time. Holy shit 

Steve: That feels a little weird to think about. But a good kind of weird

You: Yeah definitely the good kind 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a moment that was ten months in the making. 

Ten months of texts, voicemails, and sporadic phone calls. Ten months of being so far apart from one another, but doing so much to make it feel like you weren’t. 

It was all leading here— seeing Steve in person at the small theater in West Hollywood that had been rented out for the night’s occasion. And when you saw him, talking to random members of the cast and crew, it didn’t exactly feel real, which made you not say anything. 

Until he saw you and your eyes met and small smiles were quickly shared. You gave him a small nod before you got pulled into a conversation with someone.

He looked a little different, hair grown out a bit more and there was something minorly different about his stance, but overall he was still your Steve. Well, not technically yours, but close enough. You then wondered if he thought you looked any different. You personally felt a bit different, in a good way; like you’d become better over the past ten months, and in some ways, more of yourself. 

It was almost amusing how, most of the time, the time seemed to move slowly over the past ten months, but now it was suddenly moving so much faster. 

Everyone left the lobby area and started making their way inside the room that the screening would be happening in since it was scheduled to start in five minutes, but you and Steve lingered back, walking toward each other until there were only a few beats of space between you two. 

You smiled at him again. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He stepped forward to close the rest of the distance between you and pull you in for a hug, but you stepped back. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m allowed to hug you. Y’know given that you’re an engaged man and all.” You tried to be completely serious with your words but it was hard not to laugh at least a little bit.

According to many celebrity news outlets, Steve and his female costar of the limited series he’d been filming in Vancouver for the past five months were dating. It was a rumor that started about two months into filming, and there had been no confirmations about the said relationship but there were also no hard denials, so the speculations continued. And then there were even a handful of news outlets that went quite insane with their headlines and said that the two were secretly engaged. You both had laughed about it then when you sent that article to him, because the rumors were hilariously ridiculous, and you couldn’t not joke about it now. 

“Ha ha,” He said, voice deadpan. “I didn’t even get to tell you, but Tom suggested that me and Lily actually start fake dating because, in addition to all of this giving so much more press to the show, it could also help me. If I’m dating someone it will fully “kill off the asshole image.” I immediately vetoed that idea, though.”

Although the asshole narrative that surrounded Steve still existed— not as prominent as it once was but it still lingered whenever his name was brought up by the media— it was hard to see him like that anymore.  

You let out a laugh. “Of course Tom would suggest that.” 

“Yeah, he’s…” Steve trailed off with a quick shake of his head. “Anyway, c’mere.”

You walked into his open arms that time, pushing up on your toes to circle your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as he held you tight and it was then that the time felt like it started to move slow again. 

“I have something for you,” You told him after a moment, words getting somewhat lost in his neck but he was still able to hear you. “A little gift. It’s in my car, I’ll give it to you after.” 

“I also have something for you,” Steve whispered, and you opened your eyes at that.

You pulled back from the hug, still smiling at him. “Great minds, hm?”

He nodded and matched your smile with one of his own. Seeing him right then still didn’t entirely feel real just yet, so you went quiet once again and the two of you simply looked at each other. 

During the past ten months you and him had talked pretty much all of the time, but there was something different about this moment. Feelings that you thought you had successfully pushed far away rushed right back to the surface. 

“We should head inside,” He said, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your thoughts, which you were grateful for because you really didn’t want to think right then, especially not about that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were the one that suggested Steve come back to your place and the small gift exchange happen there. 

The screening felt as if it ended too soon and the inevitability of the night itself ending started to hang in the air. However, you couldn’t allow that to happen; you wanted this night to last as long as it could. 

Steve agreed with your suggestion and thirty minutes after various goodbyes were said, the two of you were sitting on your couch as a frozen pizza that you’d just bought yesterday cooked in the oven because both of you were hungry. 

You were already wearing the navy blue oversized crewneck he got you that had “Vancouver” embroidered in white across the front of it. It was comfortable and perfect, and a simple gift but also the best thing you’d received in a while. 

“I hope you like this,” You said as you handed him the gift you’d gotten for him; a cream colored mug with the logo of a coffee shop in brown lettering on the side. “I know you said that you were okay with not getting a mug from that coffee shop in London, but I just really wanted to get you this one.”

Steve looked at the mug for a second and then at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You said and your fingers started mindlessly playing with the hem of your crewneck as you continued speaking. “I’ve missed you a lot this past year. I know we talked so often and everything, but being right here, in person, feels really nice.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He said softly before he placed the mug on the coffee table barely a few feet away and then met your eyes again. “There were so many times where I wanted to just drop everything and go see you. Rearrange plans or cancel some stupid press stuff and meet up with you. Even if it would only be for barely a day or whatever. I just always wanted to see you.” 

You wanted to tell him how much you related to his words. You wanted to say how there were a countless amount of times where you had yearned to do the exact same thing. However, you couldn’t find the words to tell Steve any of that, so instead you only looked at him for a bit.

It was almost funny how many times you had become at a loss of words so far that night simply because of him. But it was as if the fact that you were suppressing so much made you unable to say pretty much anything. Because you were scared of where exactly your mind would go if you didn’t immediately shut down some of your thoughts that involved you and Steve, especially now that he was right here instead of thousands of miles away and no longer solely limited to the confines of your phone.  

He was your friend. Best friend. And it had been so much easier to pretend that that was where you and him solely began and ended when you both were so far away from each other— when he wasn’t right in front of you and you weren’t so easily reminded of how close you two used to be in such a different way. 

Those same revived feelings from earlier that night came right back again, and they practically increased tenfold because you found yourself wanting to kiss him so fucking badly. And, of course, there was a part of your mind that immediately told you just how bad of an idea that would be. However, at that moment, you became okay with all logical thinking being pushed out of the window. 

In your mind it felt like you were moving in slow motion, scooting closer to him on the couch and sliding into his lap so that your legs were on either side of him, but in reality it was happening so much quicker. However, you stopped there before you did anything else.

You could see some confusion in his eyes and also something else that you couldn’t fully decipher, maybe he was contemplating things as much as you had been before you decided to take this sort of plunge.  

That look was almost enough to wake you up and remind you of what had been agreed upon all those months ago, but it wasn’t enough to make you pull away from Steve. However, instead of sliding off of his lap or moving things further, you gave the metaphorical ball to him. 

You let silence hang in the air as the two of you simply looked at each other and you gave him the opportunity to push you away. To tell you that there wasn’t any part of him that wanted this to happen. That he was so far past feeling anything like that toward you anymore. That he never even thought about it.

You would’ve been okay with any of those things happening because even though it would’ve hurt, it would actually make things a thousand times easier. 

But, he didn’t do or say any of that. Instead, he closed the last bit of space between you two and slotted his lips against yours. 

It was an immovable and obvious fact that you had missed him so much over the past ten months, but you now realized that you had missed this just as much. A soft kiss that almost immediately turned into something more with one of Steve’s hands coming up to cup your cheek and the other finding your hip to keep you steady. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when his tongue ran across your bottom lip making the kiss deeper, and your hands fisted themselves into his t-shirt to bring yourself impossibly closer to him. 

For the time being, you effectively turned your mind off. You deliberately chose not to think about what this exactly meant or what it would come to mean. All you focused on in that moment was how fucking good doing this with Steve felt. 

Your hands found the hem of your crewneck because you suddenly felt way too hot and you pulled away from Steve for a second so that you could slip it over your head, leaving you in just your black tank top and shorts.  

You became so lost in the pure happiness of everything that was happening right then that you couldn’t hear anything except your heart pounding in your ears and the soft sounds Steve was managing to elicit from you due to the way he was squeezing your hips.  

“The oven,” He mumbled against your lips, which slowly snapped you out of the haze you were in. “The oven is beeping.” 

It was then that you heard the incessant noise; almost too loud and clear. 

You abruptly pulled away from Steve and maneuvered off of his lap. “Oh, shit.”  

He followed you into the kitchen as you opened up the oven and used a mitt to grab the circular pan the pizza was on and place it atop the stove. 

“That was, um…” You trailed off not knowing exactly where you wanted to go with your words. 

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“I don’t regret what just happened,” You blurted out. They were the words that pretty much mimicked what was said after the first time you two ever had sex. But, instead of those words first coming from Steve they were coming from you. “And I don’t really know what that means, and I kinda don’t wanna think about what it means right now. I kinda just don’t wanna think at all right now. Sometimes I feel like I think way too much when it comes to us.”

He was quiet for a second before he nodded at you. “Okay.”

His hands found your hips and you were softly pressed against the side of the kitchen counter. You two shared a look that felt as if it was saying a million things, none of which you particularly wanted to decipher right then. 

Before things could stay silent for too long, before you accidentally let your mind fall down a spiraling rabbit hole, you nodded a bit and mimicked Steve’s previous word. “Okay.”   

His hands came up to cup your face before he leaned in to kiss you again. You didn’t waste a second to push yourself onto the counter and Steve’s lips found your neck, roughly kissing and nipping at the skin. Your hands started playing with the hem of his t-shirt before circling in the loops of his jeans and pulling him flush against you. When you felt his hardness press against your inner thigh, you took in a sharp breath and let out a soft moan. You were completely certain that you would’ve let him pull off your shorts and underwear and do whatever he wanted to do to you against your kitchen counter if you weren’t reminded of something else. 

“The pizza?” You mumbled, a bit unable to form the question coherently because all you could really focus on was the feeling of Steve’s mouth against you. 

He pulled away from your neck and met your eyes. “We can eat it after.”

He didn’t have to specify further for you to know exactly what he meant. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Yeah, after sounds perfect.” 

It became a blur of movements after those words fell from your lips. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he picked you up— the abruptness of the action made you simultaneously yelp and laugh as your arms came up to circle around his neck. You were carried to your bedroom and softly placed down against the unmade bed. Clothes were quickly shed until there was nothing between you and him. 

No words were said in these rushed moments where hands and mouths roamed almost everywhere on each other's bodies; the brief looks shared and breathy noises coming from both of you were enough. 

It was as if one mind was being shared or a song that only you two knew the words to was playing and both of you were singing along. Your hands were in his hair, softly pulling because the groans he’d let out were probably the hottest thing you’d ever heard. And his middle finger softly teased your clit as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear because he knew just how much that would make you lose it. 

It had been almost a year but neither of you forgot these little things about one another and it almost felt like second nature to be with each other in this way. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness or awkwardness, and maybe that was saying a lot more than you wanted to admit. 

You were positive that if you fully thought about what was happening right then, your mind wouldn’t hesitate to yell at you that this was a bad idea; that it would only make things complicated, and start you both back at square one. 

However, it would also tell you that the times in your life where you felt your happiest and most comfortable mainly consisted of moments with Steve, and that was something that felt as if it would never change. 

Therefore, when he slipped inside you with a low groan that you caught with your mouth and proceeded to make you come faster than you had in such a long time, it was hard to feel anything but completely happy. 

Your legs wrapped around him, coaxing him deeper inside of you and soft “pleases” fell from your lips begging him to come. And after a particularly hard thrust, he let out a loud “Fuck” and came inside of you, and you couldn’t do anything but moan at the feeling of his cum painting your walls. 

The weight of him crushed you in the most comforting way possible, and you tilted your head upward a bit to meet his lips in a soft and lazy kiss. The two of you stayed just like that for a while, coming down from your highs and letting your racing hearts return to normal. Your head fell back against your pillow, eyes closing, but you didn’t feel tired. 

“When those articles about you and Lily dating started coming out, I knew exactly how ridiculous the rumors were because I feel like we have the kind of… friendship where you’d tell me if you were dating someone… But, there was still a small part of me that believed it for a second, and it was actually so hard to not feel a little sad about it.” Your words came out quiet, and you actually had no idea why you had just said all of that— perhaps that confession did not make for the best post-sex pillow talk conversation. But, for some reason, you wanted to say it. 

It was a thought that had weighed on you all those months ago, and you knew that you couldn’t tell that to him then because of what it implied. And you weren’t entirely sure why and what made this moment different from then. 

Steve was quiet for a bit and his face was buried in your neck as he softly spoke. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“It’s okay,” You whispered back. “You don’t have to say anything. It was dumb of me to feel that way about it.” 

He rolled off of you and the feel of his warmth against you was something that you missed almost immediately. For a second you thought that maybe you ruined this moment, whatever it was, but then he said something.  

“What are you doing this weekend?” He asked, and you were grateful for the randomness of the subject change. 

You let out a breath that you didn't know you’d been holding and turned on your side to face him. “For once, absolutely nothing. It’ll probably be the last time I actually have nothing to do before the documentary I’m helping out on starts filming in a month, and I have to do some pre-production stuff for it soon.”

Work was honestly the only thing in your life that felt completely certain, so it always felt easy to talk about.

“You should come to New York. I’m going tomorrow, and I'll be there until the premiere here for the movie next week. I have to do some press stuff and have a few meetings. A bunch of boring stuff, but you should come for the weekend,” Steve said, one hand finding your bare hip and softly rubbing the skin. “To make the boring stuff a lot less boring.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, and you nodded at him, quickly deciding not to think too heavily about your answer. “Okay.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little surprising that it wasn’t surprising how easy things fell back into that old place with you and Steve. Back to what sort of resembled the “arrangement” that had started during filming a year ago where you two pretty much acted like you were in a relationship, but neither of you would say the words or wholeheartedly acknowledge that fact. 

There was a lot that you two would eventually have to talk about, but you decided that that would be a bridge that you’d cross once you were hours away from getting on your flight back to California. And it was a flight that kept changing because you didn’t want to leave New York just yet; you didn’t want to leave Steve yet. 

So, your weekend trip extended days upon days until Wednesday came and it was agreed upon that you’d just go back to Los Angeles Friday morning when Steve was heading back there as well because that was the same day as the movie premiere.

You had a little work to do during those first few weekdays you were there, but you found it easy to respond to emails and make the phone calls you needed to from the comfort of Steve’s apartment, which was smaller than his place in LA but of course still massive and had a great view of Central Park. The dining room area became your makeshift “work from home” spot with your laptop at the table at pretty much all times. And while you did that, Steve was off doing press stuff for the movie, or he was in meetings; the things aside from filming that came along with being a famous actor. 

And then when the day would change into the evening and then night, you two were together, doing everything that you both had desperately missed doing. You two still knew each other’s bodies so well, and it was as if that fact was only further and further proven every night. 

It was hard not to be close to each other when for so long, you hadn’t been able to be, and because of that, things became a little different this time around in comparison to what the “arrangement” had been. There were little touches and affections— holding hands while sitting as close as you possibly could on the couch or Steve kissing you goodbye before he’d leave the apartment— that hadn’t happened before because of the lines that had been metaphorically drawn, but they felt pretty blurred now. 

A sort of routine quickly and almost effortlessly formed and it gave you that glimpse into what you and him could be if the circumstances were slightly different. And it was hard not to admit that you completely adored what this “what if” looked like. 

“We need snacks.” Your words were random and abrupt and Steve only looked at you amusingly. 

It was Wednesday night, days before things would inevitably change, and you weren’t completely sure what they’d change into— if they’d go back to the normal you had created with Steve where the two of you were friends and nothing more, or if things changed into something else entirely. You still completely avoided thinking about it all, and it was pretty damn nice living in this fantasy world. 

The two of you were on the couch in his living room. Your legs were draped over his lap and a blanket covered you both.

One of Steve’s hands was absentmindedly rubbing your leg beneath the blanket as he spoke. “There’s some stuff in the pantry.” 

“If we’re about to spend the entire night watching The Hunger Games movies we need more than just the chips to keep us alive.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Am I underestimating how long these movies are?”

“You definitely are,” You said with a small laugh and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. You then pulled off the blanket that had been draped over the both of you and stood up from the couch. “I’ll go to the convenience store down the street.” 

Steve got up as well. “I’ll come too.” 

You quickly shook your head. “No way. It’s kinda insane how the paparazzi seem way more ruthless here. I think they’re always camping outside the building.” 

Over the past few days, you had come to the conclusion that it was lucky that Steve lived in an apartment building because whenever you would leave and come back, no one could ever know that you were there for him. And you knew just how big of a field day they would have if they did know, especially because of the dating rumors that were still circling about him and Lily.

“Yeah, way too many famous people live here,” Steve said as he followed you into his bedroom.

Your small suitcase, that had only been meant for a weekend trip and was packed as such, was a haphazard mess in the corner. You slipped off the shorts you were wearing and pulled on a black pair of leggings.  

“And yet, I’ve still not run into Paul Rudd on the elevator since I’ve been here,” You jokingly said and expected Steve to laugh, but instead he bypassed your statement.  

“Wait, it’s raining. You sure you’re gonna be okay out there?” 

You smiled at his slightly concerned face. “Okay, I know I’ve been living in LA for a long time now, but don’t worry I have in fact experienced rain before.” 

Steve shook his head at you but still couldn’t help but laugh a little at your words. “Hold on.” 

He almost immediately walked away, heading into his closet, before you could ask him what he was doing, and then returned moments later with a hoodie and umbrella. 

“I was already planning to steal a hoodie, but thanks for the umbrella,” You told him with a smile as you put on the plain black hoodie. “What kind of candy do you want me to get?”

“Skittles.” 

“Solid answer,” You responded with a nod. 

The two of you headed toward the front door and you put on your shoes that were next to it. Once you were done, Steve handed you the umbrella. He then pulled the hood of the hoodie over your head and then leaned in to press a kiss on your nose. “Don’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator.”

You laughed a bit. “I’m sorry, but I really, really hope I do.” 

You didn’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator, and you told Steve that with an over dramatic sad sigh when you came back from the store twenty minutes later, a bag full of junk food in hand, before you both settled back on the couch.

The two of you were only able to fully watch the first two Hunger Games movies before falling asleep an hour into the third one, around two in the morning. You half-woke up when the credits were rolling and then lightly poked Steve awake so that you two could go to his actual bed for the rest of the night.

“This is how it would be, y’know,” Steve said in the morning, words slightly getting lost in your hair.

The two of you were cuddled in his bed, your back pressed against his front and one of his arms draped over your waist. You had just finished having a half-awake discussion about what to do for breakfast before he said that he had to leave soon for the final day of press interviews for the movie, but he told you about a bagel place nearby that you’d probably like. And then the conversation shifted to a pinky promise agreement that you and him would finish the final two Hunger Games movies that night. 

Things became quiet after that, with both of you savoring the last few minutes you could spend in bed, and you found his hand, intertwining it with yours and pulling it up to kiss the back of it. 

You almost shifted around to face Steve after he abruptly said his previous words, but you felt too comfortable in your current position to do so. “How what would be?”

“You and me if we decided to be something real.”

 “Steve,” You said softly and then decided to shift around so that you were looking at him. His hair was a little disheveled and he looked pretty tired, but he also looked so cute. If he hadn’t just abruptly pushed open the door to the conversation that you knew needed to happen, you were certain that you would’ve kissed him right then. 

“I’m just saying...” He said as his shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “Also, I’m slightly kidding. This week has been really good, and I’m glad we got to have it, but I know things will go back to… normal soon. And that’s okay.” 

Hearing him say that— confirming that things would just go back to how they were, a friendship where you both seemed to just lie about what you really wanted and how you felt— made you get hit with the sudden realization that you hated the thought of going back to that.

However, for some reason, you couldn’t find the words to tell him that right then, so instead you nodded at what he had just said and plastered on a fake smile. You made your voice sound as light as possible. “Yeah.” 

He left the apartment forty-minutes later and you left it twenty minutes after that, deciding to go to the bagel place he suggested because you were hungry and also because you didn’t want to be alone in his apartment with only your confusing and contradicting thoughts to keep you company. 

However, somehow as you walked aimlessly around Central Park— your bag with your plain cream cheese bagel in one hand and iced coffee in the other— that was when it felt like the dam broke, and your mind started spiraling because it finally felt impossible to keep avoiding and pushing your thoughts away. You were finally facing the bridge that you had told yourself you’d eventually have to cross, and in your head, you could see that the end of it was leading in two completely different directions. And you knew the exact direction you wanted to go in. 

Your friendship with Steve was supposed to be more than enough. That was what you had told yourself that night at the wrap party to convince yourself that you were completely okay with only having a friendship with him. 

But now, after these past five days of getting that glimpse into what something more could look like, you knew that just being friends really wasn’t enough, and it never would be. And although a part of you still felt a little scared to risk it all, there was an even bigger part of you that didn’t want to give this up anymore. 

You couldn’t give up how completely and irrevocably happy Steve made you in more ways than just friendship. It was a mixture of the butterflies you’d get in your stomach whenever he would pull you close to him to press a soft kiss against your forehead or cheek and the wide smile you’d get on your face when he’d come back to the apartment after being gone for hours. It was also how he would look at you so adoringly when you would ramble about work stuff and how he could easily manage to convince you to stay in bed for “five more minutes;” five minutes that would always turn into at least ten but you never cared. 

Steve Harrington made you the happiest you’d ever been and you suddenly became tired of continuously avoiding that fact.  

It was a series of quick but definitely long overdue actions that happened next. 

You found yourself sitting on a park bench with the thought of eating your bagel or drinking more of your coffee long forgotten for the time being, and instead they simply sat next to you, because there was something else you needed to do at that moment. You pulled out your phone and went to Steve’s contact, pressing the call button before you could think twice about it. 

It went straight to voicemail, just like you knew it would because he always kept it off during interviews, so you waited for the way too familiar “beep” sound and then started speaking. 

“Hi,” Your voice came out softer than you expected it to, so you cleared your throat. “I knew that you weren’t gonna answer, and I’m kinda glad that you didn’t because I just want to get all of this out all at once. So, stay tuned for a very long-winded ramble from me.” You let out a small laugh. “Um, anyway, these past five days that I’ve been here in New York with you have been so good, like insanely good, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about what would happen after this and what would exactly change between us. And I was completely okay with not thinking about any of that because it made it easier to just live in the moment and be happy with what we’ve been doing. But then this morning, you said that it’s okay that things will go back to normal soon and that finally made me think about everything, and I realized that I don’t want us to go back to “normal.” I actually kind of hate the thought of doing so.” 

You stopped for a moment, gaze becoming fixated on a group of friends that had blankets spread out in the grass and were having a picnic not that far away from you, and then you looked at a couple that was walking down one of the paths holding hands. 

After taking a quick breath, you kept going. “You’re so important to me, and our friendship is so important to me too… But I love you. I’m in love with you. And because of that, I can’t just be your friend. I want more, I want us to be something real; and that’s pretty much exactly what you said that night at my apartment almost a year ago. I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize just how fucking great we are together.”  

Your hand that wasn’t holding your phone to your ear began absentmindedly playing with the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing; it was the Vancouver crewneck he got for you.

“I want us to have days like this past week forever. And I know that this week has kind of been a fluke because, for the first time in a really long time, our schedules worked out pretty well. But we can make this work. I know we can. I was an idiot to say that we don’t make sense before because we do. Yes, our lives pull us in pretty different directions most of the time, and it sucks, but it's okay because it doesn’t change how I feel about you, and it never will. And I think that's the most important thing. It's why I know we, us, can actually work.”  

You leaned back against the wooden bench and let out a breath. “Okay, wow, I’m so surprised that I haven’t been cut off yet… I’m currently sitting on a park bench in Central Park, and I got a bagel and coffee from the place you mentioned. I haven’t tried the bagel yet, but the coffee’s pretty good…” You trailed off with a shake of your head and then laughed a bit. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that right now. Um, anyway, I’m gonna stop talking now, and I’ll see you back at the apartment later. Bye.” 

When you ended the call and pocketed your phone away, you felt an immediate weight lift off of your shoulders and you let out a contented sigh that turned into a small laugh. 

You waited for a second, though, waited for something that resembled dread or regret to suddenly hit you, but it never did. And that was what let you know that what you’d just done was fully the right thing to do. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hours later, you still felt nothing but complete contentment with what you had done, leaving the minute and a half long voicemail that would, in fact, change everything. You wanted it to change everything. 

After responding to a handful of work emails and then enduring an hour-long phone call with one of the Producer’s of the soon-to-be filming documentary, you were in the kitchen searching for some sort of a snack to eat. However, hearing the sound of the front door opening halted your rummaging. 

“Hi,” You said, watching Steve enter the apartment and then close and lock the door behind him. 

He met your eyes almost immediately. “I really loved that voicemail.”

You smiled at him, at how quickly he wanted to address the elephant in the room before it really even had a chance to enter. “Yeah?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod his head and he smiled back at you. “Yeah. I’m never deleting it.”

He looked so happy as he walked over to you where you were leaning against the kitchen island, and that look made your heart constrict in your chest. 

“I love you,” It didn’t feel the tiniest bit scary to say the words right to him, they just felt so honest and undeniable. Your voice was soft and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, hands immediately finding home in the hair at the nape. 

“Mm,” His eyes slipped shut as his arms circled around you, pulling you against him.  “Say it again.” 

Your mouth was right against his ear as you spoke. “I love you.” 

He hummed again and then pulled back a bit, his nose brushed against yours and his lips did the same. It was all so teasing, like he wanted to take his absolute time with kissing you. However, now it didn’t have to be slow or drawn out because none of this was going to abruptly end; there was no expiration date apart of this like the arrangement you had a year ago. 

“I love you too,” He said before finally slotting his lips against yours.  

There was so much expressed in the soft kiss. It completely felt like the beginning of something new, something better, rather than simply a continuation of what you two had. The kiss was so certain and sure and it only further confirmed to you that everything happening was right and good and perfect. This was what you had wanted from the moment the two of you made that pinky promise during the wrap party; the one where you both said that you wouldn’t let your friendship end. Technically, it wasn’t being broken. 

You pulled away when you started feeling lightheaded and you met Steve’s gaze as you allowed yourself to breathe for a bit. You were quiet for only a second. 

“This will work,” You whispered. 

Steve nodded and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it will.” 

The three simple words comforted you, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you savored the feel of them. For the first time, probably ever, your overthinking mind felt sated; it couldn’t find anything wrong about this moment. You finally felt like you could breathe so goddamn easy because there was nothing to truly worry about, and you found yourself wanting to cry at that feeling, but you didn’t. Instead, you kissed Steve’s cheek and then his other one, and then his nose and forehead. 

“This is random, but I’m really, really glad that I was forced to be your assistant.” 

Steve laughed a bit at that. “Sometimes it doesn’t even really feel like that's where we started.” His hands found yours, intertwining them and giving them a light squeeze. “But, I’m so fucking glad that it was you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

author’s note: i'm gonna miss these two<333 i hope yall enjoyed this series! its been a rollercoaster fr (a good one for the most part though lol) i might do lil blurbs for these two someday because i'm way too attached to them and i have some minor ideas of some things i'd wanna do involving them.... but that probably won't happen for a while because after somehow being able to put out chapters weekly for this i do in fact need a Break lmao but anyway thank you for reading and enjoying this series🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[lockoutkey]

oh? you still wear a mask despite lifted protocols? that’s hot *makes out 6 feet apart*

[mayansmcsblog]

the prank war has began

sooooo i saw this gif and instantly got an idea but as i wrote it, the idea completely changed and somehow it turned into this.

there is a ton of swearing😂

credit to @thedevilsmoonshine​​ for the gif!

thanks to @withmyteeth​ for helping me with some ideas of what to add in.

this is the first time I've wrote anything in years and the first time I'm ever publishing my work. sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes

A persistent ringing was what woke you up at 2am for the 3rd time this week. You already knew who it was, let's face it who else would be calling at 2am other than him? Opening your eyes you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling debating if you should let it ring out or answer

What if he’s hurt? No, that would have happened during the day not in the middle of the night Maybe he just needed someone to talk to? That was the likely option.

 You and bishop always had a ‘vibe’ as some people said. You were friends for a few months before he introduced you to the mc, of course it was a shock at first but after a month it slowly became your life. All the parties? you were there. Club events? You were there.

Overtime you and bishop had gotten closer, he would come over to your place all the time, announced or not.

he would come over in the dead of the night when his mind got too loud ,When he needed someone to talk to ,When he simply wanted the company of a friend that did not judge him for the things he did for the mc. He would come over any opportunity he got.

You could swear he was at your place more than he was his own Most of the time he would spend a few weeks at yours, only going back to his to get clothes.

Over the course of the last 6 months you and him had gotten a lot closer, he spent the night a lot, his stuff is all over the place but you two aren't dating , you didn't have any type of label. Why? You couldn't be sure. Most people assumed you two were dating but they were wrong. You two did everything normal couples would yet- you had no label. you were never his girlfriend and he was never your boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath you reached to your bedside table and grabbed your phone but as you could pick it up, it stopped ringing.

That’s not a bad thing right? Maybe he didn’t want to wake you up. Before you could set it back down you reserved a text, scrolling down your notification panel you read it;

📲: Bishop 🖤

You up?

Two words. That’s it just two short words.

Should you ignore it? Yeah, that's probably the best option. Did you want to ignore it? No

Another ping brought you out of your thoughts

📲:Bishop🖤

The guys are being children and I could either use some help over here or a way out😂please tell me you're awake and not just reading this from your notifications and watching Netflix again.

he knows you too well. Being a night owl you normally go to sleep around 3am, maybe 2am if you have work the next day. Normally you would just ignore bishop till the next morning but somehow he always knew when you ignored him and when you were actually sleeping.

Taking a look at your notifications again you saw you had a lot for snapchat, a  few from Coco, a few from Angel along with one single snap from Gilly.

Looks like the trio is having fun.

Opening bishop’s texts you finally reply;

📱: I’m awake just debating on if I should open all the snaps I have from the trio and reply to a seemingly annoyed jefe.

Almost immediately you got a response

📲:Bishop🖤

Ha-ha very funny. Come and sort your boys out, they are messing with that shitty ass car again, trying to do something with the engine

📱: my boys? You're their president, you sort them out. What makes you think they listen to me🤧?

📲: Bishop🖤

They actually like you😂they will listen

📱: keep telling yourself that, they only listen to me when I’m getting them food

📲:Bishop🖤

That counts as listening

📱: whatever

Locking your phone you got up out of bed knowing there was a slim chance you would go back to bed till the early hours now that you were awake. 

Putting on a pair of shorts and a shirt you got your phone and went to the kitchen, deciding to get on a bottle of water and find some shitty Netflix show you wouldn’t even pay attention to

Grabbing a bottle from the fridge you heard your phone vibrate on the counter. Pulling down the notification panel once again you saw it was a text from Ez

📲; smart ass😂📚

Please come and get these children, I can't deal with them anymore

Okay something is seriously going on here.

Face timing Ez you set the phone back on the counter, moving towards the window to open it and let the cool air flow thru the room

Within seconds he accepted and his voice came over the speakers

"Ayyy y/n where you at? Come get the children. Me and bishop are going crazy over here" you could hear a hint of playfulness in his voice 

Picking up your phone you saw he was sitting on the steps outside the club, his phone in his hand angled so you could just see the side of his head while he was looking at something in the distance. 

"I'm at home like all of you should be by now, leave the children alone to play. Are they hurting anyone?" you said as  you headed towards the front room and sat on the sofa

"Not yet"

You could hear cursing being thrown around by numerous people in the background along with the clacking on metal and rock music in the distance.

"Yet?" You questioned

"Yeah, I mean other than themselves" he laughed

"Of course"

There was a few beats of silence before you heard Coco shouting

"Boy Scout! Who’s that eh? You got you another girl?" By his tone you could tell he was definitely high

"No it's y/n dumbass" he responded, turning the phone so you could see Coco walking towards him.

"Ohhh damn I thought you was about to get some man" by now Coco had took over the whole screen "heyyyy y/n what you doinnnnn"

"I’m about to hang up on your dumbass"

"No, no, no don’t do that" taking the phone off Ez he stood up "that’s not nice is it"

You could hear Ez asking where he was going with his phone and be replied with a simple "shhhh" as he walked back to where he originally came from

"Want to see something funny?" He said. You weren't sure if that meant he was going to show you Angel tied to a chair again or Gilly attempting a backflip.

Both are amusing but it's doubtful it would happen three times....

"Did you tie Angel to a chair again? What did I tell you about playing nice hmm?" You put on the most sarcastic voice you could

"Ha funny and no...We couldn't find and ropes"

That made you laugh way more than it should have because you knew that Bishop had hid them in the meeting room and under Ez's trailor after the last time they guys got drunk and thought it was a good idea to put rope all over the place like an obstacle course

"Coco you're gonna kill someone at this rate”

"Hush ight? Jesus be quite ino want em to know your here"

"Okay?" Putting yourself on mute you could hear Angels voice in the background along with Gillys and bishops

"Listen," Angel said , slapping something metallic, clearly as high as Coco was and seemingly having one of his 'genius idea' moments

"OI dumbass listen to meeeee" he said again

"What?" Gilly responded along with a sound of something metal hitting the ground "dammit Angel you made me loose the fucking 10mm socket again"

The camera was still pointed at Coco’s shoulder as he walked over

"Boys, boys, boys" damn he sounded like a child "what would you say if I told you I could get y/n  to being us food"

You audible groaned as he suggested that, there was no way you was going to get them food this late at night.

You heard both Gilly and Angel say "what" then "tell her to get McDonalds" or "let’s get subway" by they were quickly cut off

"Oi children! Stop it, it's  2:30 in the morning, leave her alone '' bishops' voice was closer than you expected. He was probably sitting in the garage with the others observing what they are doing and making sure they don’t kill each other

You couldn’t help but unmute yourself

"Sorry Obispo but the children need their food" your tone was playful, kind of, half of you was saying it just to annoy him, the other half was wanting to see his reaction

"Gimme that phone" within seconds Coco was gone from the screen and Bishop was in the frame 

"So this is why you haven't replied to me hmm?" You couldn’t tell if he was serious or playful

You hadn't missed his text? He never responded to you right?

"Hold that thought" you pulled down the notification panel and saw he did text you.

2:15

📲:Bishop🖤

I’m kicking these guys out in a few minutes

2:20

📲: Bishop🖤

I’m giving them 3 more minutes till I kick them out.

2:23

📲: Bishop🖤

Can I come over if it's not too late after these children leave? "

"Oh, sorry I was busy talking to Ez and then being stolen by Coco" 

"Nah you were just ignoring me wasn’t you?" He responded

"No totally not"

"Sure I totally believe you" he laughed

"I think Ez might want his phone back"

"Wow, nice to see you like speaking to me"

"Well then why don't you call me instead? At least smart ass wanted to talk to me, even if it was about the children of the mc"

The line went silent for a moment. All you could hear was the guys cursing about finding the 10m socket and the sound of bishop walking.

"Okay, I’ll be back in like 20 minutes" with that the line went dead, he didn’t even give you time to respond

 Wow he deadass hung up on me, how mature.

Maybe it was time you opened those snaps. What else did you have to do?

Opening snap chat you saw there was a purple bubble next to Coco, a red bubble next to Angel and a blue bubble next to Gilly.

You opened Gilly's first

12:22~

"What time does McDonald’s close?"

Followed by

"Nvm its 24 hours isn’t it😂😂"

You quickly replied "dumbass" and moved onto Angel’s chat.

Opening the snap it was a picture of Coco, Gilly and creeper sitting opposite him, beers in hand, while seemingly talking along with the caption

"Come party with us"

Skipping past the snap you was presented with another one, this time a video where Coco was sitting on the roof of a car while Gilly was attempting to push it

"C’mon man it's not that hard" Coco said

"Yeah man come on" Angel said from behind the camera

"Shut up before I make you do this" Gilly responded

What the hell have these guys been up to all night?

The snaps just got worse from there. 

Coco’s was full of them doing random stuff, throwing things at each other and even them sitting on Ez trailer roof? How did they even get up there, and how did it not break?

One of them definitely stood out from the others. It seemed like someone else was filming on his phone while Coco was trying to rip off a car door by the handle but it snapped off, sending Coco across the garage and into the wall while Gilly, Ez and Angel laughed at him

His only response was a simple "okay you mother fucker this is war" followed by his practically running like a horse in battle towards the door kicking it resulting in a bent. Unfortunately that's where the snap ended.

Is this what they had been up to? No wonder bishop wanted out.

When the cascade of snaps finished you saw there was still a blue bubble next to Coco's name, clicking on it you could see it was a video around 3 minutes long. 

You saw part of it was what you had already seen. Coco trying to pull the door, being flung into a wall, the guys laughing along with Coco kicking the door once again except this time it didn’t end when he kicked the door.

"Bro you’re not doing it hard enough" Angel stated while moving Coco out of the way

"Look you gotta-" he kicked the base of the door "-start from the bottom-'' he kicked it again causing the bottom to cave in slightly "-see? It's easy"

"Shut up man I’m stronger than you let me do it" Coco pushed Angel out of the way

"No" Angel responded, pushing coco slightly

"Yes" Coco pushed back

"No" Angel pushed again

This went on for a few moments before Gilly set the camera down on some type of surface before walking over to them

"Yo I'm stronger then both of you let me do it"

Coco stopped pushing Angel and turned to Gilly "Nah man you will steal all the shit and run off again like last time"

"Shut up man"

All three of the men were too busy arguing to notice Ezekiel had come into the garage in search of something

"Why the fuck are you guys arguing?"

All of them spoke at the same time

"Coco is sayin he’s stronger than me"

"They are children!"

"Angels tryna be a smart ass"

"You guys are fucking stupid" Ez moved towards where the phone was but didn't pick it up, rather opening the draw of the desk that was below it and picking something up, as he pulled back you could see he was holding some keys.

"Move“ He pushed Angel out the way of the door and unlocked it, grabbing a duffle bag out of the back seat, handing it to Coco

"Here"

All of the guys stood in a state of shock. Coco was the first to speak

"Why the fuck didn’t you tell us there was keys!" He exclaimed

"Because watching you guys be idiots and is fun to see you struggle"

"I swear to God I’m going to say no on your patch vote" Gilly butted into the conversation.

Ez just laughed as he walked away, the video ended shortly after all three of them cussed.

Shaking your head you laughed, of course they are dumb enough not to look for keys.

You quickly texted Coco

"You guys are dumb as shirtttt, you’re lucky Ez is around to help your dumbass's. Did the door not want to play nice hmm? Did you put a dent in the wall again with your fat ass? What was so important in that bag?"

Checking the time you saw it was 2:45

Thank god it's a Saturday tomorrow.

Setting your phone on the coffee table you realized you never put the TV on when you sat down, you were obviously too distanced by FaceTime, meaning you were sitting in silence.

Was silence a bad thing? No

Was it somehow deafening? Yeah

Grabbing the remote you turned on the TV, quickly going to Netflix in an attempt to find something decent to watch.

Your watch list was full of horror movies and crime documentaries. Definitely not the best thing to watch on your own. There were a few suspense movies on there but none of them seemed to interest you.

Going to the movie section you passed almost every more option from horror to romance to action because nothing grabbed your attention or seemed interesting.

Going back to the home page you looked at the screen for a few minutes

Was it even worth putting something on? It was almost 3am after all.

Grabbing your phone you decided to scroll through Instagram.

After a few minutes bishop’s name appeared, taking over your screen with an incoming FaceTime.

Accepting the call you were immediately greeted with the site of his kutte, followed by him putting his helmet on. By the angle you could tell his phone was resting between his handlebars and the fuel tank.

"I take it you're still awake then" he wasn’t looking at the screen. Rather he was looking in the distance just above his phone

The background suddenly filled with the sound of bike engines. He seemed to say something but it was overpowered by bikes, so you didn't hear what he said. His bike wasn’t turned on yet because the phone wasn't vibrating.

Suddenly Bishop reached his arm out to someone just out of frame and you saw him lift upwards off the seat slightly, someone’s hand patted his shoulder blade.

By the look of the tattoo on the wrist you could tell it was Coco.

Looking away from your phone you looked back up at the TV. You could still hear engines coming from your phone but now it sounded like 3 of them.

Almost simultaneously they all revved before pulling off. The sound slowly faded out as they got further out the compound.

You were still looking at the TV, you decided to look at the top 10 of the day, maybe there was something good on there.

The Meg

Reading the description it actually seemed like a good movie. Putting it on you set the remote down and looked back at your phone

This time bishop wasn’t in the frame at all. Rather you could just see the length of his bike and the wall behind where it was parked.

Where did he go?

Your question was quickly answered when he picked up the phone.

By the sound of the wind you could tell he was jogging somewhere. The phone was at his side facing outwards, you could see him approaching the steps to the clubhouse. He quickly went up them and opened the door

"Prospect!" He shouted "make sure you lock up, I’m heading out"

You could hear Ez reply with a quick "okay" from somewhere in the back

He picked up his phone so you could see his face. unlike before, you took the time to actually take in his appearance 

His eyes looked tired, his beard was longer than it usually is, he looked...well, you couldn’t describe it. He just didn’t seem himself.

You were too busy looking at him to realize he asked you a question

"Y/n"

"What?"

"Did you not hear me?"

"Oh- no sorry I turned my volume down because of the bikes"

"Oh" he paused "I asked if your door was open"

You looked at the screen for a second

"What?"

He placed his phone back on the fuel tank and straddled his bike

"I said, is your door open. You know like your front door.....to your house" he repeated, grabbing his helmet, he must have taken it off while you were looking at the TV, once again he was fastening the buckle.

"No? Why?"

"Do you want to unlock it?" you could see him kick the stand of the bike up by the way his leg moved.

"Why?" You asked he looked at the screen for a few seconds before laughing at the way your face changed as you realized what he meant

"Obispo are you inviting yourself over once again?" You questioned

"Yep"

"What if I don't let you in?" You challenged. Of course you would let him in but sometimes it was fun to mess with him

"What if I climb through a window?" He said, pulling a cigarette out his pocket and lighting it

"Okay now that's just creepy" you laughed. He shook his head as he blew out the smoke from his lungs

"So? Can I come over or not?"

Looking around your front room you saw it was a little messy but you could easily clean it up within 5 minutes.

"Sure"

"See you in 20 querida" he winked as he started the bike before ending the call.

~

You finished cleaning the front room, kitchen and your bedroom up within 10 minutes

Checking the fridge you saw that there were only 4 beers left, taking a mental note to get more the next time you go shopping.

Sitting back on the sofa you realized you had missed around half of the movie.

Pointless watching it now

You knew by bishop coming over there was a good chance you two would be awake till 4am talking about random stuff and watching something on Netflix or playing some type of game.

You also knew he liked action movies so you went to that section in search of one that sounded entertaining 

The platform ~ that didn’t sound so bad right?

Watching the preview, you became interested and wanted to watch it, forget Bishop you can watch it on your own.

"The ones above, the ones below and the one before" the voice of a man came over your speakers, he sounded young but old simultaneously.

You had just got past the introduction when you heard the rumble of a bike in the distance. For a moment you wondered if it was off the TV but as it got louder you realized it was bishop.

Getting up from the sofa you walked towards the door.

You set your hand on the door handle for what seemed like hours as you waited for him to pull up outside. Did you normally meet him at the door? Nope. Most of the time he would invite himself over and just sit down on the sofa with you for hours.

Sometimes you two spoke the whole time he was over until you both went to bed, other times you would sit in a comfortable silence- just happy to me in one another's presence.

You heard the engine cut off just beyond the door. You counted to three before unlocking it, as you did you saw Bishop was parked on the curb, still sitting on his bike while setting the helmet on the handlebars. He was yet to notice you standing at the door.

Taking a cigarette out his pocket he turned towards the street, looking at the houses to see if your neighbor's were awake, you had no idea why he did it but every time he pulled up, whether it was in a car or on his bike he always seemed to look at the neighboring houses.

He lit the cigarette, back still turned to you as he looked down the street. Leaning against the door frame you looked him over you could see that his posture was slouched indicating he was tired, he still had one hand resting on the handlebars almost like he wasn't just looking down the street but also trying to crack his back. The other hand was on the cigarette in his mouth, even from the distance from the doorway to the curb where he parked. You could see his leg was bouncing and so was his hand slightly, now that definitely wasn't normal.

 As he exhaled the smoke he turned around towards your house, jumping slightly when he saw you standing at the door. He seemed to compose himself as he took the keys out of the bike and stood up, walking towards you, his head bowed slightly as he tossed the cigarette onto the food

“I hope you are going to pick that up” you said 

“I will” he looked up at you, he was just beyond the porch steps. His eyes looked tired, there were clearly bags underneath them. He was definitely tired- if you knew anything about him ,he probably hasn't slept for a few days, and if he did it was for a short time

“You look tired”

“So do you” he cracked a small smile, by now he was standing in front of you

“Maybe because someone woke me up at 2 in the morning then I had to deal with grown ass men asking me to bring them food then suddenly someone decided to invite themselves over?”

“In my defense i thought you were still awake and the children wasn't my fault” 

You laughed as you moved away from the door frame and towards the kitchen “just come i stupid before i lock you out”

“Ouch that's harsh” he put a hand over his heart “that insult really hurt” he walked threw the door and shut it behind him, hanging his kutte up on the coat hook in the hallway along with his jacket

“Stop being a wimp” 

You heard him move into the front room and sit on the couch.

“Want a beer?” you asked as you went in the fridge for another bottle of water

"Yeah- what's this?" He questioned

“What's what?”

”On the TV dumbass” 

Walking back into the front room you saw he had his hand behind his head, his phone was on the table along with his keys.

“Oh, the platform. It seemed interesting so I started watching and only someone distracted me” you said as you handed him the beer and sat on the sofa, leaving some space between you and him.

“What's it about?”

“Not too sure something along the lines of some type of prison system where the food is on a moving platform, I only just started it”

“Hmm” grabbing the remote he pressed play while sipping his beer.

You two sat in comfortable silence while watching the movie but every so often you would look over at bishop, partly to make sure he wasn't asleep and partly to see if he was okay.

Over the time span of 30 minutes you noticed he wasn't watching the movie, rather he was looking at the wall clearly spaced out somewhere in his own mind. He was sitting so his right elbow was on the arm rest and his right hand in his mustache, messing the hair lightly. He always did that when he was thinking about something. His other hand was resting in his lap holding the beer you gave him.

“Bishop?” you waited a few moments but he didn't respond “Bishop'' you repeated, still no reaction. Taking the beer from his hand you set it on the table, putting your hands on his cheeks you turned his face toward you “bishop”

“Hmm?” he finally looked at you. Removing your hands from his face you looked him in the eyes

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing” he said shaking his his head

“Don't lie to me” your tone came out harsher than you intended he raised his eyebrows at you

“sorry didn't mean to sound like i was being mean” you pulled away slightly with the intention of going back to where you originally sat but that idea was quickly thrown out the window when he grabbed your torso and practically picked you up, sitting you on his lap. He put his head in the space between your shoulder and neck while rubbing his hands down your back

“What's wrong Obispo?” you asked once again, putting your hand in his hair, playing with it slightly.

“I'm just stressed” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your shouder

“About?”

“Everything” he moved his head so he was looking up at you “the stuff with Marcus leaving, the mc as a whole with the guys turning against each other ,all the shit going on with other clubs. Everything is just a mess and it's stressing me out” he explained. You kept on hand playing with his hair while the other went to his cheek

“Can you do anything about it?” you asked, he cocked his head to the side slightly clearly not understanding what you meant ”can you do anything about that stuff?” he looked at you for a moment before shrugging his shoulders

you continued “Marcus made his own mind up, you can't do anything there. The mc always sorts itself out, members fight, it's normal, you of all people should know what.” you explained while using your thumb trace the lines across his face caused by the lack of sleep

“Yeah, i guess you're right” he leaned up and kissed you softly “I have to say, I'm a president of a fucking mc and yet your smarter then me”

“I'm not smarter than you, I just look at what's happening and think about in the moment, where as you” you poked his chest lightly “ seem to think its a good idea to overthink stuff and look at consequences a year in advance that will probably never happen” He hummed in response before putting his head back into your neck

“Can i ask you something?” you asked

“You just did”

“Very funny” you moved to get out of his lap but was quickie pulled back down

“What was the question?”

”What the hell was in the duffle bag? coco sent me the video them trying to get it and it seemed like they really wanted it”

“Oh” bishop almost immediately started laughing to the point his whole body shook and his head was thrown back.

“Tell me stoopid” you slapped his chest slightly, playing with his shirt

“Well you see- me and Ez thought it would be funny to lock it in a car that needed scraping while they were getting high and then tell them the doors didn't work to see how long it would take for them to it but Gilly ended up pushing it from the front by the fighting cage to the garage” he managed to get out

“That didn't answer my-”

“Just wait” he cut you off “neither me or Ez knew what was in it but those three are too stupid to just break a window so they were attempting to get it for a good 20 minutes before Ez opened the door and got it out” he explained still laughing slightly “turn out it was just full of junk food and snacks they brought to eat once they get hungry later ”

“You two are evil”

“No we was having fun” he laughed

“Evil”

Just as bishop was about the respond his phone started to ring, you moved out his lap and sat back on the couch while he get up and went out the back to answer it.

looking at the tv you realized the film wasn't interesting you at all. Grabbing you phone you saw you had a snap from coco and one from angel 

what did they do now?

opening the app you clicked on to yours and Angels chat only to find a simple text

“if coco send you a video, delete it”

what?

“why” you replied before swiping off the chat and going onto Coco's. inevitably you where present with a video and a chat 

“Pease, please watch this it will be the best favor you ever do for me 🙏🏽”

your curiosity got the better of you, clicking on the video you immediately recognized the place.it was Angels front room. Gilly was chuckling lowkey behind the camera while coco was next to the door on a stool with a bucket in his hands while laughing. The camera panned down to show Gilly holding a bag of flour, now you could only assume that the bucket was full of water 

surely this couldn't end good

within a few seconds the door opened and angel walked in, coco immediately reacted throwing the contents of the bucket on top of his head while Gilly threw the flour over him.

Angel immediately froze, his face going into a startled expression followed by on of anger. Shutting the door behind him he shook of the excess flour before locking the door.

Gilly and Coco where in hysterics as Angel turned towards Coco and lunged for him, coco had a quick reaction and ran towards the backdoor , only to find it locked 

“fuck” he cursed looking for ways to escape, looking at the kitchen window he seemed to weight out his chances. by now Angels attention had gone towards Gilly who was still stood in the same place laughing. Angel lunged for him, tackling him to the ground while coco grab the phone from Gillys hand and made a run for the kitchen.

There was a lot of laughing from Gilly and shuffling in the background along with Angel cussing him out , then there was a bunch of laughing from them both of them but you could make out Angel saying “you think that shits funny huh?” “watch me key your bike” “ I'm gonna get you back so hard man

suddenly the phone was tossed out the kitchen window, shortly after you could see coco's head and body slowly emerging from the kitchen window. after a few seconds he finally managed to crawl out. picking up the phone he began to jog down the front yard 

“ha bitchesss I'm freeeee!”he exclaimed “the one time being skinny pays off”

in the background you hear a door unlock followed by Angel shouting “run bitch cuz I'm fucking coming for you”

then the video cut off

you where sat on the sofa crying from laughing so hard you quickly saved the video and texted coco back

“that is the best thing I've seen in months😂”

just as you started to calm down you started to hear bishop laughing from outside the backdoor. almost imminently he walked threw the back door in hysterics 

“did you-did you see-” he could barely talk in-between laughing 

“did i see the video?” 

“yeah”

“yes i saw it” you laughed

taking his phone he turned it towards you, it was a FaceTime from angel covered in flour, his beard was a littler of loose flour and a clumpy mess of flour and water. you couldn't help by laugh at his serious expression

“not funny y/n” he said clearly angry. in the background you could hear Coco and Gilly laughing

“you watched the video didn't you” it wasn't a question rather a statement 

“yeah” you replied still laughing 

“fuck sakeeee” suddenly he cut the call of cause both you and bishop to laugh even harder

~~~~~~~~

so yh this was men to be a fluff with bishop but i got distracted and it just kind of turned into the start of a prank war between Coco, Angle and Gilly.

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[writingformadderton]

Still

Ship: Madderton

Word Count: 9019

Summary: Rich and T had been in different countries for a while now, both dealing with it differently. One night those differences lead to terrible mistake of Richard who regrets it deeply, but Taron isn’t able to forgive him just yet...

Additional Tags: tw: mention of panic attacks, breakup, cheating, Elton, angst, fluff

Requested via chat by: @queenmerabby

Kinda based on the songs “Bend the rules”, “Dear Patience” and “Still” by Niall Horan

------

Taron missed Richard with his whole heart. He hated being away from him and not having him right by his side. But Richard had to work in Los Angeles, on the other side of the ocean. Taron has a job in London right now, able to work from home and usually he loves that.

But coming home tiredly after a long day with no one who greets him, wraps him in a tight hug and helps him to shower before crashing in bed and not the other way around is horrible. Without Richard, Taron came home late and often fell asleep on the sofa, his dinner on the table only half eaten, and wakes up late remembering he still has to get a shower. It was a mess and he hates it.

It was never easy for Taron to be parted because he missed Richard so much that it hurt. He was needy for his cuddles, he missed his voice, his laugh and their lazy days. He missed fooling around with him, dancing through the living room late at night and exchanging cheesy nonsense. And the worst thing was that Taron missed being self-confident without him. T was in constant need of reassurance and getting told he did nothing wrong when something didn't go as it should have.

He steps out of the shower and looks at the clock seeing that it's already 4am. Taron groans and quickly rubs his hair with a towel looking down at his phone. It was 8pm now in LA, he could give it a go and try to reach Richard.

Richard looks up confused when he hears Tarons signature melody ringing. He grabs his phone and takes the call. "Hey." he says.

"Hey." T says and makes himself comfortable in bed.

"You're alright?" Richard asks startled as he calculated the time difference. "You should be sleeping, T, it's 4am." he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, I know." T sighs and rubs his face. "I'm just missing you, I guess."

Rich smiles at that and can imagine him cuddled up in bed. "I miss you too." he says. Hearing how tiny and tired Tarons voice sounded wrenched his heart. "You wanna talk until you fall asleep?" he offers.

"I don't wanna distract you from what you're doing. Just wanted to say hi." Taron admits and rolls onto his side looking at Richard's empty side of the bed.

Richard leans back in the sofa and shakes his head. "You're my boyfriend, bubs, I always have time for you." Richard insists and hears T chuckling.

"How long until you're back?" Taron asks and curses at himself. He keeps on forgetting it.

"A week and then I'll be home for two weeks before going back." Richard states and smiles a bit. That was so typically Taron, forgetting this stuff.

"Phew still a week." he groans and rolls onto his back. Richard was already gone for three months. "Greet your mate Max from me, yeah?"

"I will." Rich says smirking. He moved in with his former roommate from college again when he got told he'd have to work for quite some time in Los Angeles. His friend just grinned and said he can stay with him.

They keep on talking until Taron fell asleep and Richard keeps his phone close on speaker for another few minutes, making sure he really is asleep, before ending the call.

 -

Taron's alarm blasts through their apartment at 6:30 am. He whines softly and reaches out for his phone growling. This would be such a shitty day.

He gets up slowly, his world is spinning as he stumbles over to the bathroom. Taron turns the shower cold, shivering underneath it but feeling himself getting a bit more awake. He texts Richard a sweet message and gets one back pretty soon.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he makes some coffee and curses as the cup falls down, making his clothes and the floor full of it. Taron quickly cleans up the mess, makes a new one and rushes back to the bedroom to get some new clothes, throwing the other ones onto the floor in the bathroom. He was late and had to deal with that later. Back in the kitchen he burns his tongue with the hot coffee and whines. "Fuck!" he growls.

His day continues being as shitty as it started. He messes up a scene, forgets his lines and destroys a costume during the shoot. Driving home he gets stuck in traffic and he just wants to cry, frustration welling up.

Stepping inside their apartment he wants to do nothing more than hide in Richard's arms and have a good cry. When he realizes he'll be on his own again, he feels the tears falling down his cheeks and he just falls into his bed. Reaching for his phone he dials Richard's number but gets disappointed when he doesn't take the call.

Almost three hours later Richard calls him back. "Hey, sorry, luv. I was attending to a dinner and then we went to a bar, didn't hear my phone."

"S'alright." T says and stares out of the window. "Why were you having a dinner at 3pm?!" he asks confused.

"Don't ask me, they set it then." Rich chuckles. "Why are you still up? It's already 2am again, you're gonna be wrecked tomorrow."

"I already am." T sighs and bites his lower lip. "I had a really shitty day and wanted to talk to you about it."

"I'm sorry I missed your call." Richard apologizes and presses his other ear closed, the music blasting through the bar. "You're better now?"

"Not really." Taron says and feels himself getting slightly irritated. What the heck was Rich doing that he seemed so absent, normally he didn't even had to explain it and Richard could hear it in his voice.

"I'd love to talk to you about it but Max is so fucking drunk right now, I have to get him back to the apartment." Rich says and sees Max stumbling towards him.

"At 6pm, congrats." Taron scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Jus' let me help him sober up and I'll talk to you tomorrow when I can fully focus on you."

"Oh sure, fine." he says annoyed.

"Come on, don't be mad now. I promise I'll call you and-." he stops himself when Max stands close in front of him.

Taron’s eyes widen when he can hear a sound that definitely shouldn't leave Richards lips as long as he wasn't around him. Rich moans and he can clearly hear someone kissing. "Rich-." and then the call ends. What the fuck did just happen?

 -

Richard doesn't call him the next day, too caught up in thoughts about what he did. How should he ever tell Taron that? After three days, he hasn’t heard anything from T and decides to call him. Taron takes it after a while and doesn't say anything. "Hey, how are you?"

"Seriously?" he asks and stops to search his keys in his pocket.

"Yeah?" Rich asks slowly. He knows what he did, he knows he fucked up with not calling him.

"After three days you call me, when you promised me to call me on the next day. And then you're just asking how I am? What the fuck, Rich?" Taron spits out annoyed and turns around the key, slamming the door behind him aggressively.

"T, I'm so sorry. I was…I’m sorry, love. Really." he says and rubs his face. Fuck.

"Yeah whatever." Taron just says and kicks off his shoes. "At least one of us can afford to get drunk at 6pm."

"Hey, come on, I wasn’t drunk!" Rich protests. "You know I'm working my ass off and it was just one evening. I was out, not drunk."

"Mm." T hums and rolls his eyes. "Hope you had fun." and with that he ends the call and bites his lower lip. He was clearly hurt by Richard’s behavior and especially because of the end of the call, he still doesn't know what happened.

 -

Two days later, Richard comes home with mixed up feelings. He was looking forward to be back home and spend some time with his boyfriend, but he wasn't sure if Taron would be happy to see him. Especially not when he’d share the news of what he did.

Walking around in the apartment, he figures that Taron wasn't here and he sighs a bit at the mess. Some dirty dishes in the kitchen, some laundry on the floor in the bathroom and his script all over the living room floor. "Jesus, T." he sighs annoyed and starts cleaning up the mess.

When Taron comes back home later in the day, Richard gets confronted with how shitty he was feeling for the first time. He has dark circles underneath his eyes, is pale and his eyes are reddish. His hair is a mess and he looks immensely tired. Probably lost some weight. "Hey." he says low voiced.

"Hey." Taron mumbles and avoids his look.

No enthusiastic and excited greeting then. Richard sighs a little and steps closer to him. "You're okay?" Taron just shakes his head and stares down at the floor. "Come on, T." Rich says and carefully lifts his head by placing his fingers underneath his chin. He sees the tears in his eyes and bites his lip. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just fucking tired. Of everything." he says and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm tired of sleepless nights, messed up shoot, being alone and you pissing me off."

"Listen, I'm sorry because of what happened but you can't keep on being mad at me because of that." Richard sighs.

"Oh, can't I?" he asks and lets out a dark laugh.

"Seriously, you're behaving like a child now." he growls and rolls his eyes. "Yes I was out and couldn’t be there for you properly. But you've been that way as well before."

"But not when you needed me!" Taron bursts out.

"You want me to be mad at you for not cleaning up your mess as well now? Because that's the exact same nonsense." Rich answers pissed. He didn’t want to imagine how pissed Taron would be later.

"My mess." Taron nods slowly. "You mean the laundry that was too less to put into the machine and the script I was working on in the living room?"

"Forgot the dishes." Rich adds.

Taron shakes his head at him and walks past by him. "Seriously, fuck off! I was working all day and then falling into bed at 11pm just to have a sleepless night and get up after two hours of sleep again." T gets himself a glass of water in the kitchen. "I don't have the time to get drunk and have fun and I don't have time to clean everything up. I barely have time for myself at the moment." he spits out sour.

Richard leans in the door frame and folds his arms in front of his chest. "I wasn’t drunk, I can only repeat myself. So what’s going on?”

"What?"

"Seriously, what's wrong? I know you're having a hard time but putting that shit on me isn't fair. Being overworked and overwhelmed doesn't justify being harsh to me now." Richard states and watches him with cold blue eyes. "So what the fuck made you that upset, because you don't have to tell me it was me taking care of my mate?"

“Taking care of him, yeah that’s one way to put it.” he spits out sourly and Richard swallows hard. Taron looks down at the floor for a moment and it gets very quiet in the kitchen. "You're sleeping with him?"

"What?" Richard asks quietly.

"You heard me." T sighs. "The more time you were there the less you cared about me."

Richard watches him for a moment. “He’s a friend.” he says, which wasn’t a lie. Max was a friend.

"Fine." Taron says and shrugs his shoulders. "Then please tell me why kissing him made you moan so satisfied. Tell me why you're kissing him while you're having me on the phone." his voice is shaking hard now and he feels tears burning in his eyes. Richard says nothing and just watches him.  "That's an answer too." he whispers and nods slowly.

Richard rubs his face and groans. “I…I did something dumb.”

Taron looks at him and his stomach twists in pain. Did he really-? Panic settles in and all the past weeks come back to him, overwhelm him and he feels his chest getting tight. "Tell me you didn’t do that.” he whispers.

“I’m- Taron…I didn’t want to…” he searches for words but knows nothing will justify what he did. Nothing.

"You fucking asshole.” Taron presses out, tears spilling down his cheeks and he sees Richard’s eyes filling with tears. “Get out. Right now, I don’t wanna hear anything about it.”

“Taron, please, let me-.” he tries.

Taron sinks down on the stairs and buries his face in his hands. “Get the fuck out of here before I lose my mind.” he presses out and exhales shakily. He hears Richard leaving after a moment and presses his hand in front of his mouth. The panic takes over and he starts sobbing trying to calm down but he simply can't. It was over. Richard cheated on him and he doesn’t know why. What did he do wrong?

 -

Taron gets up groaning and turns off his alarm. He gets underneath the shower, drinks his coffee and drives to work. He arrives on set, gets into his costume and then has to sit in the make-up trailer for a while. They need to cover up the dark patches underneath his eyes, his cheeks that are irritated from all the tears and cover his wound nose. He feels as awful as he looks, and he can’t believe he’s been doing this for weeks now.

It’s almost two months after their break-up and Taron is completely messed up. He couldn’t sleep, ate way too less and forgot to drink water most of the time. He tries to concentrate on his job, knowing shooting this film is the only purpose he has right now. Richard and Taron haven’t talked since the day after their fight when they broke up. Not a single word from him.

But the issue that comes with dating an actor is that he’s in the eye of the public constantly. Wherever Taron goes, it seems like Richard never leaves his side. He sees him on the movie posters, in advertisements, and it seems like he can’t get away from him. Like a constant reminder that they fucked up and weren’t together anymore.

“How are you feeling?” his stylist asks him with a compassionate smile.

Taron just smirks a bit and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m alright.”

“You know we’re worried about you.” she says as she styles his hair. “You look terribly pale and messed up.”

“I am.” Taron agrees and nods slowly avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. It would only face him with the harsh reality once more.

“Taron, everyone would understand if you’d take a break, you know.” she says carefully, not knowing how he would react.

“I’m nothing without my job at the moment but thank you.” he says and smiles at her bravely.

“Just be careful, eat something, drink and sleep enough.” she answers and finishes his look. “I bet Richard feels the same way.”

“I doubt that.” he just says. It was him that broke up, not Richard. It was him who refused to talk about it and just wanted his peace and be alone figuring things out. If he had only known how much he would regret that.

“You wanna see it?” she asks and he raises his eyebrows as she gets out her phone.

 -

Richard is on his press tour at the moment and he hates it. Most of the people aren’t asking him stuff about the movie, the shooting process or anything about the chemistry on set. They are asking him about Taron, why they haven’t been seen so much together anymore for almost half a year now since he left for shooting. They ask about a possible break-up, the reasons for that or other reasons that they don’t spend time together.

Rich tries to stay polite, telling them he won’t talk about it, he doesn’t wanna answer it. But deep inside, the wounds get ripped open over and over again. Every time he thinks he healed a bit, they tear down his walls, rip him open and make him bleed again. Every time he realizes once more what he did and how he destroyed them.

He hopes so bad that today it will be different. The first half an hour it is and he’s glad about it, relaxing and opening up. But then it comes.

“Your boyfriend Taron hasn’t been seen for a while on your side now. Are you still together?” a interviewer asks him and he bites back a groan.

“I don’t know why anyone besides him and me should know that.” he simply answers.

“Why haven’t you been together recently?”

“Work.” Rich simply says and looks down at his hands annoyed. Just shut the fuck up, he thinks to himself.

“Any comment on-?”

Richard waves him off and shakes his head. “Is there anyone who has questions that are not about Taron but about why we are actually here?” he asks and looks around. No one answers. “Great, then we’re done.” he says and gets up leaving the room quickly.

 -

“When was that?” Taron asks startled and looks at her after watching the short clip from the press conference.

“Yesterday.” she answers. “You see, you’re not the only one who’s suffering.” she softly pats his back.

Taron gets up nodding and takes a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll have to work.” he says, his voice slightly shaking. Outside he rubs his face tiredly and groans. Richard looked tired and not really present with his thoughts. He takes out his phone and considers texting him but decides against it. He has his own shit to deal with.

 -

Richard opens the door to Brandon’s apartment and kicks off his shoes frustrated. Richard had to return for work to Los Angeles and decided to stay with his dear friend, not wanting to return to Max. He walks into the living room and falls down onto the sofa next to him, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Rough day?”

“Mm, I’m sick of this press tour.” he mumbles and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, mate. They’ll stop sooner or later.” Brandon assures him and fondles his shoulder comfortingly.

“I just want them to shut up and stop throwing his name at me over and over again. It’s gonna drive me crazy one day.” Richard groans and shakes his head frustrated. “Sometimes I hate my job so much.”

“We all do.” he sighs.

 -

Taron presses the doorbell anxiously and seesaws on his toes. Elton invited him over this afternoon to catch up a bit and get his head off of the things going on. David opens the door and greets him with a hug, then their boys come and greet him happily.

Elton takes him with him onto the balcony and they sit down in the sun. He watches the younger man in front of him and realizes he is in a really bad place and an even worse state of mind. “How are you?”

“I’m alright.” Taron says and realizes how monotone this answer became for him. Just say you’re alright and people won’t ask more.

“Be honest with me.” Elton says seriously with a compassionate smile. “I can see you’re far from alright.”

Taron laughs weakly and nods slowly. “I’m trying, Elton.” he leans back in the chair and tries to avoid Elton’s knowing and observant look.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asks suddenly.

Taron gets a bit surprised by the question and thinks about it. Yeah, when did he eat something? God, that must have been two days ago or so. “I don’t know honestly.” he admits and scratches his neck embarrassed.

Elton gets up and comes back with some sandwiches and water. “You should seriously drink and eat something.”

They sit there in silence, eating their sandwich and drinking nothing but water. Taron stares onto his knees and can’t believe he didn’t eat for whole two days. And his last meal must have been a forced one, going for lunch with the crew on set.

“Listen, mate, how are you really? Because you look like shit, I’m sorry, and you lost some weight.” Elton says.

Taron looks at him stunned, once more surprised how he could balance his honesty and compassion that good. He bites his lower lip and looks down at the glass of water he's holding tightly. "How am I?" he lets out a long deep breath and looks up at him. "If I'm being honest I don't feel like myself lately. It seems like I'm living in a bubble, getting up, taking a shower, working till late at night on set, going home, repeat." he braces his head on his hand and stares down into the water glass. "I feel sick because I know he's missing in my life. And when I come back home I just really wanna have him near and then I remember he isn't." Taron sighs. "Which leads to me crying my eyes out usually. I wonder if I ever won't have enough tears to cry anymore." he giggles softly and shakes his head. "I feel awful."

"That's what I was thinking. You don't have to pretend to be alright, Taron. No one will judge you for feeling bad." Elton assures him.

T tucks his legs up and nods slowly. "It's been almost two months now, you know. I should move on and -." he cuts himself off when his voice starts shaking. Not that shit again.

"And you two have been together for five years before." Elton says and sees tears welling up in Tarons eyes. "You two were happy and no one gets over that in only two months. You think it would have been real then?"

"No." he admits and blinks. Was it really real though? With Richard cheating on him he wasn’t so sure anymore.

"Taron, darling, it's okay to feel bad about it. It really is. And you don't have to go through it alone." Elton leans forward and pats his knee lovingly. "David and I talked about it and we would offer you to stay here with us and the boys. So I can keep an eye on you and you wouldn't be alone." he states and sees Tarons face soften.

"That's really sweet." he answers and smiles at him. "But I wanna finish this film before, it's only one week left." he explains and looks back at him. "But I would love to take your offer after it."

"That's a deal then." Elton says and nods satisfied. "But you'll have to promise me to take care of yourself until then."

"I will." he says with a brave smile.

 -

But, Taron goes on as before and feels himself getting more miserable and weaker as days pass by. He knows he should stop working so hard and get some sleep. He knows he needs some proper food and drink enough. But it simply doesn't work and on Friday Taron stumbles onto set, feeling like shit.

He nearly falls down as he steps inside and can hold himself up in the last second. His stylist watches him suspiciously but decides to say nothing.

Taron sinks into the chair and bites his lower lip nervously. He felt sick, his body was screaming at him suffering from the hunger, and his stomach was aching in cramps.

When they’re done, T gets up and feels his body getting hot. He gets dizzy and his world starts spinning, the sickness increases and there's a loud high tone in his ears. Taron feels like throwing up and stumbles towards the bathroom.

The next thing he can remember is waking up next to his stylist on the floor. He groans and presses his eyes shut, his dizziness still present. "What happened?" he groans.

"You just passed out." she explains and puts her phone aside. "Stay down, I've called an ambulance." she says firmly and pushes him back down. "God, T, you really need to take care of yourself."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." he apologizes and growls softly as she helps him resting his head on her knees.

 -

Taron stares at the ceiling bored before his eyes wander back to the IV that's stuck in his hand. The diagnosis was easy to make, he’s malnourished. Combined with too little sleep and emotional downs, it was predictable that his body would give up one day.

He had told his mum and Elton who both told him to rest and get better. Now he's bored, his busy life suddenly stopped and he doesn't know what to do with himself. "That's exactly the reason why I needed my work." he groans and rubs his face tiredly. He turns onto his side and suddenly the IV starts beeping loudly. "Fuck!" he curses and presses the button to call the nurse. She comes in laughing and he contorts his face. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright." she says and unwinds everything again before leaving.

Suddenly his phone buzzes and he can't believe seeing it's from Richard.

 Hey, I heard you passed out on set today. Hope you're feeling better now and can get some rest.... Take care, okay? - Rich

Doing my best, thanks for checking up on me. - T

He thinks for a moment before deciding to type more.

I'm sorry about the press stuff, must be annoying. - T

It is, but I'll get through it. - Rich

 Taron smiles a bit and puts his phone aside. His smile fades when he remembers that Richard was just being polite and it still was over between them. He pulled the blanket up to his face and closed his eyes. Just try to relax, you'll be okay one day.

- 

Richard puts his phone aside letting out a deep breath. Texting Taron had been a risk and he didn't know how he would react to it. He had been biting his lip nervously as soon as he sent him the text message. Fortunately, it went well.

Even though this short exchange only made him think about Taron intensely again. Thinking about them as a couple and having such lovely and happy times. Everything went down to shit and both of them knew who was to blame for it. At least there they had the same opinion.

When Taron told him he wanted to break up, it was a shock and felt like he stabbed him right into his chest. His brain tried to proceed the information it just got but he couldn't come up with a better answer than "If you think so." which made Taron only angrier and more upset than he already was. It made him look like he didn't even care and that felt even worse for himself afterwards. Of course he would break up.

He sighs and rubs his face tiredly. Imagining Taron in hospital, probably connected to an IV, scared him. He never liked seeing him feeling miserable or being sick when he wasn't around the whole time. Richard was the type of person that becomes overprotective then. How should he be able to focus on everything going on at the moment now?

Richard grabs his drink and downs it in one gulp, contorting his face as the alcohol burns in his throat. He stares at the glass in his hand and wonders how much of them he had over the past two months. It became his way to cope with everything.

 -

In the evening, he finds himself in a nightclub, the music blasting into his ears, his head spinning from all the drinks he had. If he was totally honest with himself he hated being drunk. He missed Taron, who always kept it at a good level for both of them.

And as usually he feels himself getting touchy with all the alcohol in his veins. It never had been different and ended quite messy sometimes with Taron. But now he wasn’t here and even though the sane part of his brain screams at him not to do it, he gives in when some random guy approaches him and starts flirting.

But Richard is lonely, needy for some company and this time he wanted to get his head off Taron. The time with Max he was just tensed up and needed something steady. He finds himself in a corner of the room, kissing the guy, sooner than he expected. Rich tastes his lips and moans at the contact, pressing himself close to him. He totally blends out the rest of the world and it doesn’t matter until he’s pressed against the bathroom wall. When the strangers hand wanders down between them Richard opens his eyes again and suddenly it hits him. What the fuck was he doing?

“Okay, stop.” he says and stops him carefully.

The man in front of him just smirks and shrugs his shoulder. “We already gave them enough.”

“What?” he asks confused and rubs his face trying to understand what he means.

He leans in and whispers into his ear, “All they wanted was a kiss so they could finally publish the headline that you’re not in a relationship anymore.” He pulls back and grins. “Have a nice evening.”

Richard feels himself getting sick and his world starts turning. He barely recognizes him leaving the room and sinks down. “Fuck.” he breathes out and tears are welling up in his eyes. Without fully realizing what he’s doing he pulls out his phone and dials Taron’s number.

 -

Taron wakes up confused when he hears his phone ringing and once more he’s glad he’s having a room for himself. Especially when he sees that it’s Richard. He thinks for a moment and decides to take the call. “Richard?” he asks and his voice sounds raspy, it’s 5am.

“Taron, I just did something stupid.” Richard says and his voice is shaking heavy.

Taron can hear the anxiety in his voice and his stomach twists. “What happened?” he asks worried.

Rich takes a deep breath and bites his lower lip. “I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot and I wanted to tell you before someone else does.”

“That you’re an idiot?” Taron asks confused and frowns. “Are you drunk?”

“No-yes. But that’s not the problem.” he says and leans back in the seat of his car.

The Welsh sits up in his bed and puts the pillows against the headboard so he can lean against them. “Okay, calm down, where are you?”

“Right now I’m in my car.” Richard answers and takes another deep breath to calm himself down.

“Driving?” Rich mumbles a no and T nods. “Okay. So, what’s going on?” And then he hears Richard sniffing and his heart wrenches at that sound. “Rich?”

“I’m so sorry for everything, T. I know I messed everything up and-.” he swallows hard as the tears start making their way down his cheeks. “And I know I did some shit that hurt you.”

Taron stares up at the ceiling and bites his lower lip hard, trying to stop himself from crying. Richard sounded completely messed up. “Richard, it’s not only your fault and-.”

“Yes it is, Taron.” Richard says and shakes his head. “We promised each other to keep our breakup between us, right?”

“What did you do?” he asks and his voice shakes now as well. Did he expose them to the public now, did he break under the pressure?

“There was this guy.” he starts and hears Taron sucking in air sharply. “A-and then he kissed me and-T I could lie to you and tell you that he was forcing me, but I couldn’t stop myself as well.” A quiet sob leaves his lips.

“And then?” Taron’s voice is cold and sharp now.

“Well he guided me into the bathroom and-.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that you just fucked a random guy in a club’s bathroom and got caught then just say yes and I’ll end the call.” he presses out through tears. “Because I seriously don’t wanna listen to that after what you did a couple months ago.”

“No, Taron, I didn’t.” Richard says quickly and he can hear Taron exhaling relieved. “But when we got there I told him to stop and he just let go off me and grinned at me.”

“Yeah?”

Richard can’t bite back a sob now and buries his face in his hand. “He was getting paid to involve me in a kiss so they could get some pictures and prove that our relationship is over.” Taron remains silent after that and Richard’s heart starts racing. He really messed up now.

“I guess I can’t blame you for that.” Taron admits after a while and stares at his blanket feeling hot tears running down his cheeks. “It’s not like I didn’t kiss other guys to forget you.” Rich swallows hard at that and nods slowly. “Please get home now, get some sleep. We can’t change it anyways, but I appreciate your honesty.”

“Taron, I’m so sorry.”

“Just shut up.” T growls tiredly and shakes his head. “Get some sleep, Richie.” he says, way softer than he wants to, and ends the call.

Richard stares at his phone and sinks his head onto his steering wheel. Fuck.

 -

A few days later he barely gets down his breakfast and suddenly Brandon races in and shows him his phone. “Richard!”

“I know, I know, okay?” he sighs and rubs his face frustrated. “I was kissing him and it was stupid.”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” he says and hands him over the phone.

Richard reads the headline and squirms a bit in his seat. ‘Taron Egerton opening up about the rough breakup between him and his former boyfriend Richard Madden.’ “I don’t think that I wanna read this.” Rich admits and stares down at the table.

“No, Richard, I don’t think Taron really said those things. That’s why I’m showing you this.” Brandon says and hands him his phone. He wouldn’t show such thing to Rich if it was real.

Richard starts reading it and raises his eyebrows surprised. ‘Richard always has been a cheater, so this didn’t really surprise me’, with the picture of Rich and this guy underneath. ‘I loved him, but he broke up with me.’, ‘He hated not being my center of focus when I was working on set.’.

He puts the phone aside and somewhere deep down he knows Taron wouldn’t say such things but they hurt him anyway. “Thanks.” he just mumbles and abandons the rest of his breakfast. “I need a minute.”

Richard steps out on the balcony and lights himself a cigarette. He inhales deeply and tries to calm down and keep his breakfast in. His phone rings and he sees a message of Taron.

I did never say this shit, I swear. I got out of hospital yesterday evening, I didn’t even have time for an interview. – Taron

It’s okay. – Richard

Elton said he’ll kill them. – Taron

Good luck then. – Richard

He puts his phone aside and shakes his head, not believing to what a shit show his life turned over the last six months. How should he ever be able to erase what he did and get Taron back? He needed him so bad and he just wants to curl up in his arm, listening to him whispering cute shit in Welsh.

A bit later he finds himself in his room, biting on a pen and staring at the blank piece of paper in front of him. Talking made him emotional, texting was to emotionless, so he settled on writing a letter.

 -

“Taron! There’s a letter for you.” Elton says and waves with it towards Taron who’s on the balcony getting some fresh air and playing with Elton’s sons.

“Really? From who?” he says and doesn’t really pay attention until he hears it.

“Richard.”

Taron looks up quickly and studies Elton’s face trying to find out if he’s mocking him. But he sees no sign for that and so he apologizes to the boys and gets up taking it. “I’ll go and get some space then, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, go on. I’ll be here if you need me.” he says and Taron smiles thankfully walking away slowly.

But as soon as he’s around the corner he races upstairs to his bedroom and locks the door behind him quickly. He doesn’t know what to expect from this letter it could be everything.

 Dear Taron,

I could have told you all of that in an audio or send you a text message. But I guess we always preferred being old-fashioned sometimes, which is why I decided to write you a letter.

I could blame you or tell myself it wasn't my fault, but there's no use to do so. Because I know I would be lying to myself. You had and have every right to be disappointed by me and be mad at me. I fucked up. Not only because I wasn’t there when you needed me and then making a promise and not keeping it, but also because of the other thing I did.

It's been creeping back into my head quite often since you broke up with me and I haven't been able to push it aside so far. I've done something I would have never thought being possible, which is why I can’t fully realize it now.

I really don't know why it happened and I feel so bad about it. Max and I talked about it and we both have no feelings for each other, we never had. I'm really sorry and I would totally understand it if you won't forgive me.

Taron, I really tried to forget it and pretend it never happened, but then you passed out and everything came back to me. And then I pulled this stupid stunt, kissing this guy, which lead to exposing our breakup and this stupid fake interview with you. I’m so embarrassed for what happened that night and that I made you suffer. Again.

 Taron stops reading and stares out of the window for a couple of minutes. Richard cheated on him, probably lonely and when someone wanted him he gave in, and he knew he did it while they were in their happy and supportive relationship. Not afterwards, like with this idiot, when those things didn’t matter anymore. Where did they go wrong? He thinks about putting it aside and not reading one word more, afraid of what else might come to the surface. But Richard was telling him the truth here, opening up, it would be more than unfair to just ignore that. He blinks away the tears and continues reading.

He stares down at the letter in his hands and tries to make out the words on the paper, his watering eyes not making it easy. Hot tears fall down his cheeks and he covers his mouth with one hand, trying to stop any sound from coming out. He puts the letter aside and gets up to unlock the door again, not wanting to worry anyone before stumbling back to bed. He covers himself with the blanket and starts crying into his pillow.

Taron knew something happened back then between those two, but he tried to convince himself it hasn't been that way. All the time he tried to tell himself that they maybe just shared steamy kisses. It hurts even more now to get told it really did happen.

After a while, Elton checks up on him and finds him in bed, curled up, tears still rolling down his cheeks, quiet sobs leaving his lips. He sits down at the edge of the bed and rubs his arm comforting. "Just let it out, that's more than necessary."

"He really did it." Taron just mumbles.

"Did what?"

"Sleep with him. He slept with Max while we were still together." Taron presses out and sniffs. "I can't believe he really did it. I-I tried to tell myself they just…"

"Was he confessing it to you?" Elton asks gently and T nods.

"I couldn't finish reading it. I just couldn't." he says and sits up sighing. He must look like a pathetic mess to his dear friend.

"Take your time." he tells him and gives him a compassionate smile.

 -

A week later he gets back to work, knowing he still has to finish the film after he spent the last three shooting days in hospital. He's in a better mood, looking healthier. Staying with Elton does him good, he needs someone looking after him. When he feels bad he just doesn't care about things like eating, taking proper care of himself or sleeping. With Rich by his side it never had been a problem because he reminded him, guided him through the day.

He talks to his stylist and jokes around, she notices the change and says she's happy to have him back.

After lunch break he steps into the make-up trailer and sees her serious look. "What's wrong?"

"Richard broke down during a press conference." she says slowly and sees his eyes widen in shock.

"How do you mean ‘broke down’?" he asks quietly.

"Panic attack." she just mumbles and Taron curses.

“Thank you for telling me.” he says and she nods quickly.

They get him ready for the next scene and Taron gives his best to stay concentrated. He’s glad when he’s done and on his way back to Elton’s place. Taron tells Elton what his stylist told him and his friend watches him observantly. “What are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know.” Taron mumbles and tucks his legs up on the sofa. “I really don’t know.” Elton remains silent and his thoughts are racing. “Should I call him and check up on him?”

“Maybe you should. But maybe you should finish reading the letter he sent you first.” Elton suggests carefully. He doesn’t want to push Taron into anything.

“Yeah, probably.” T mumbles and excuses himself, going upstairs. He gets the letter and sits down on bed searching the line where he stopped reading. After a few moments he found it and sees the letter still has some paragraphs to read for him.

 I haven’t been doing very well lately regarding my mental health, I feel like my head is completely fucked up. I miss you steadying me and helping me to focus and not to worry about all the nonsense. I realized once more how much I need you to stay sane in this world. And I realized that I destroyed everything we had.

Telling you the truth and being honest with you, was very difficult for me, because I knew I would hurt you. And it was never my intention to hurt you.

Thinking about the way we are right now scares me, thinking of the possibility we may never be able to speak to each other again.

When you passed out I was panicking, because I wouldn’t be able to help you or just hold you in my arms and tell you everything would be okay again. You are still so important to me and I don’t think that this will ever change.

And now that I’m pouring you my heart out and finally being honest, I’ll have to tell you another thing. The truth is, I am still in love with you.

I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same again or if you’ll ever forgive me. And if you don’t, who could blame you for it? It just kills me to think we have to stay this way and I’d love to talk to you again one day in person about everything.

I can only repeat myself, I’m so sorry for the shit I did.

I love you,

Rich

 Taron can’t hide a little smile at that second part of the letter and his heart beats a bit faster. His fingers strokes over the little ‘I love you, Rich’ at the end, something he has seen on several little notes before. He rubs his face and gets up quickly walking downstairs to Elton. “I won’t call him.” he says.

“That bad?”

“No, I’ll do something else but I’d like to hear your opinion on it.” Taron states and hands him the letter. “And I’d like you to read it before I tell you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have to, it can stay between you two.” he offers but Taron shakes his head.

“I am sure.”

Elton nods and takes the letter reading it. When he’s done he looks at Taron and smiles a bit. “He seems to be just as fucked up as you are.” Taron just giggles at that. “But he apologized and I think he’s feeling really bad about himself. And obviously, still loves you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, the second page of the letter shows how much he needs you and wants you back. He’s hoping on a reunion but he’s giving you the time, space and choice to do so.” Elton states. “So, what exactly was your plan?”

 -

Taron steps out of the airport and gets into the next cab. He doesn’t have much with him, only a little suitcase, he isn’t really planning on staying long. Giving the driver the address to his hotel he leans back in his seat and looks out of the window. He’s nervous, as always when he is in Los Angeles, still not thinking he belongs here.

After getting to his room and taking a shower he dresses up and leaves it. He knows exactly where he wants to go.

Pressing the doorbell he seesaws on his toes nervously and then the doors open. He looks into a pair of brown eyes and swallows down his hurt and anger. “Hey. Is…Richard here?”

Max shakes his head. “No…He’s with a friend.”

“Brandon?” Taron asks and Max nods. “Thanks.” he nods and turns around. He had nothing to do here.

“I’m sorry for what happened, it wasn’t okay what I did. I asked him to…” he says and Taron just shakes his head.

“Whatever.” he quickly walks down the stairs and drives to Brandon’s place hoping it was still the right address. He pressed the doorbell anxiously.

“Oh…Hey.” Brandon says slowly and leans against the doorframe. “Looking for Richard, I guess?”

“Hey…Yes, is he here?” Taron asks nervously, Brandon shakes his head. “Okay, can you tell him I was here and wanted to talk to him?”

Brandon watches him observantly for a moment. “I’m sorry for what happened, he told me about it.” T just nods. “If you’re here to tell Richard he messed up, then please just don’t. He’s in an awful state at the moment and he already knows he messed up.”

“I’m not here to tell him such thing.” Taron shakes his head sighing softly. “I wanna talk to him about something he sent me.”

“Okay.” he nodded relieved.

“Is he still not here?” Taron asks and raises his eyebrows, seeing the way Brandon pulled the door a bit closed behind himself.

“He isn’t, just don’t want Charlie to run out of the apartment.” he chuckles realizing his mistake.

“Okay, then I’ll come by later, maybe?” Taron says and Brandon nods, they exchange their goodbyes. He walks towards the stairs and takes the first steps.

“Taron!” Brandon stops him and holds up a little card. “He’s there, finished in twenty minutes.”

Taron looks at it and raises his eyebrows surprised. “Therapy?”

“Yeah.” Brandon says and nods slowly. “I’m really not in the position to ask you this but please be nice to him, he’s messed up.”

“I will be.” Taron assures him with a smile and thanks him.

 -

Richard steps out of the office and puts on his jacket. He feels kind of relieved, but also agitated. Talking about him and Taron was never easy for him. When he walks down the stairs he gets slower seeing him leaning against the wall.

“Hey.” Taron says, softly and watches him closely. Richard looks tired, is pale and his hair is a bit of a mess.

“What are you doing here?” he asks carefully, preparing himself to hear once more how he destroyed everything. What a fucking idiot he was and how he ruined five years of love.

“Wanted to see you.”

“Well, here I am.” Rich says and walks down the rest of the stairs. He needs some fresh air right now and walks past by him towards the door.

“I got your letter.” Taron speaks carefully and sees him stopping in his movements. “The first part made me cry, not gonna lie. I didn’t read more for about a week.” Richard looks up and glances at him now. “But when I heard about your panic attack I read the rest.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks again and Taron can hear the fear in his voice.

He takes a step forward and carefully grabs Richard’s hand, who looks down at them. “Listen, you hurt me, a lot, but you were honest to me. I don’t want you to feel bad about it for the rest of your life.” he says and sees him biting his lower lip nervously. “I didn’t come here to be mad at you.”

“You didn’t?” Richard looks up now and Taron can see the pure anxiety in them.

“I came here to tell you that I accept your apology and I wanna apologize myself.” he says and sees Richard frowning. “I overreacted and I hurt us both with it. And it wasn’t fair to just end the call when you told me about that guy.” Taron searches his look and his voice gets soft as he strokes over his knuckles. “Richie.” He looks at him and Taron sees the tears in his eyes. “I wanna get rid of this mess between us. But the real reason I came here was that I wanted to check up on you. I know how intense your panic attacks can get.” And that’s all it takes to let Richard’s tears escape his eyes. “Come here.” he encourages him gently and wraps him into a warm hug.

Richard buries his face in his shoulder and starts crying, holding him close. He can feel Taron starting to cry as well and holds him tight. “I’m so sorry.” he chokes out.

“Shh, it’s okay.” he whispers and fondles over his curls gently. “It’s gonna be alright, love.”

Richard pulls back and looks at him with widened blue eyes. “You just called me love.”

“Yeah.” Taron says and giggles softly.

“So you’re not mad at me?” Rich asks hopefully.

“No.” he shakes his head smiling. Richard falls back into his arms and Taron places a soft kiss into his hair. “I hope you’ve seen they’ve taken this fake interview down.”

“I didn’t know that.” Rich chuckles weakly. “I didn’t really spend time on my phone anymore.”

“Elton told me.” T explains and cups his face with one hand, wiping away some tears. He sinks into Richard’s beautifully deep blue eyes and somehow he knows they’ll be alright again. “They couldn’t publish the pictures because you couldn’t be identified on it. That’s why they came up with this interview.”

“Seriously?” he asks shocked.

“Yeah.” Taron says and rolls his eyes. “Fucking idiots. Well, that means if we’ll go back out there together no one will know what happened that night.” he smirks at him and looks up to him. “Now the only question is if you’d like to be my boyfriend again.”

Richard swallows hard at that and bites on his lip for a moment, caught up in thoughts. “You’re sure? I don’t wanna say yes when you feel bad about getting back together.”

“I took the next flight to LA when I finished your letter, of course I’m sure.” T states with a slight grin. Richard cups his face and leans down connecting their lips to a soft kiss. Taron opens his eyes slowly and smiles. “I suppose that means yes.”

“I love you.” he breathes out and kisses him again.

“Oh god, I forgot how good that feels.” T sighs and tangles his hand in Richard’s curls. It has been months since they kissed the last time. Richard just chuckles and lifts him up, making him squeak surprised.

“You’re working on something at the moment?” Rich asks curiously as he carries him outside and towards his car.

Taron shakes his head and grins at him, playing with Richard’s hair. “I finished it yesterday. You?”

“Nothing as well.” he says and stops in front of the car fumbling for his keys. “How’s about going on vacation, just us two?”

Taron cups his face and kisses him passionately. “Yes.” he nods quickly and Richard lets him down again. “I love you too.” he says remembering he was too busy caught up in kissing him before.

 -

They decided to stay in Taron’s hotel room, staying up talking almost the whole night. Taron was cuddled up in Richard’s arm just like he wanted to be all these months ago. Now they are standing at the airport, holding hands and waiting for their flight back. Taron leans his head on Richard’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Mm.” he just hums and giggles surprised as Richard pulls him closer, facing him now.

“You’ll be able to get some sleep during the flight, bubs.” Richard says and places a tiny kiss onto his forehead before pulling him into a loving hug. Taron buries his face in his chest and wraps his arms around his waist. Rich rests his head on Taron’s and rubs tiny circles on his lower back. It already feels like nothing ever happened.

@taron-eggmcmuffin @maddertonmyheart @madderton-obsessed @ispewglitter @primaba11erina

[scribblehoneybee]

On the Back of Your Mind

[ for anon - “Hypnosis is a load of crap.” ]

“It’s not even gonna work, Marv.”

“Is that a challenge?” Marvin asks, smirking down at Chase from his spot on the counter. He swings his legs up, blocking the coffee pot the other man was trying to use.

“No, it’s a statement. Hypnosis is a load of crap - now let me get some damn coffee. I have editing to do,” Chase says. His patience is clearly already running thin, Marvin notes. He really is a bastard when he’s sleep deprived.

Marvin rolls his eyes, “It’s 2am, dumbass. The only thing you should be doing is sleeping.”

“Yeah, well not everyone can just dick around doing magic tricks all da-” Chase is cut off by a hard flick to his forehead. “What the fuck, dude?” he says sharply, rubbing the red mark made by Marvin’s sharpened acrylics.

“Stop being such a prick. It’s not my fault they decided to lay off the whole kitchen staff again.” Marvin is… admittedly between jobs at the moment. He had barely managed to survive the last round of firings, only for his boss to cut the staff in half a second time a month later. Just another event in the same streak of bad luck that ended with his apartment catching fire. While there are certainly worse things than having to move in with your boyfriend and his hot roommate, Marvin still isn’t up for joking about it just yet.

To his credit, Chase at least looks somewhat ashamed. “Sorry, man. I’m just really tired and it’s putting me in a shit mood. Now can I please make some coffee?”

“Nope,” Marvin responds with a pop. “You’re gonna get some rest so you stop being such a bastard.” He grabs Chase’s shirt and pulls him closer, then immediately begins fluttering his fingers in front of the man’s eyes.

He smirks when Chase’s eyes immediately begin to glaze and droop. Too easy.

“You need a break, freckles. Just a short rest couldn’t hurt right?”

“I - I mean-”

“Of course it won’t,” Marvin says, cutting Chase off. He needs to keep him off balance for this to work. “You can just let yourself chill and recharge and then you’ll be ready to get back to work, right?”

“I... guess?” Chase’s eyes still haven’t left Marvin’s glitter coated nails. Every time he seems like he’s about to look away, they catch the light and distract him all over again.

“Good, so why don’t you relax for me? Just for a minute.”

“Yeah but just… for a minute.” Chase says as he blinks slowly.

“Just a minute. Or a couple? You really do look tired, you know,” Marvin says quickly, voice just above a whisper, “And one can so easily turn into five which can drop to four, three, two, one - sleep!” Marvin snaps in front of Chase’s eyes and they close, head following the line Marvin traces in the air down to the man’s chest. He catches Chase when he falls forward, scooting along the counter to situate him between his legs.

If Chase was awake he’d probably be a flustered mess. Not that he’d ever admit to enjoying it.

Marvin pulls Chase forward to lean against his chest. “You really fall quickly for being such a stubborn cunt,” he says with a fond chuckle. He runs his hands through Chase’s tangled, greasy hair. “You need to take better care of yourself, freckles. Why don’t you go take a nap on the couch? Then you can shower to wake yourself up.”

Chase responds with a sleepy hum and nuzzles against Marvin’s chest.

Marvin’s heart does a backflip. This is so unfair.

“Come on, lets go. I’ll even get you a pillow.”

“M’kay,” Chase mumbles. He steps back, eyes barely open and a sleepy grin on his face.

Marvin hops down from the counter with practiced grace and leads Chase into the living room of their tiny apartment. The couch is old and worn, and definitely not suited for a full night’s rest. A short nap shouldn’t mess up Chase’s back too badly, or at least that’s what Marvin hopes as his entranced friend flops down on it without even needing to be told. He almost immediately starts snoring.

“Damn, you were exhausted.”

“You actually got him to lay down?”

Marvin looks up and sees Jackie leaning against the wall, a soft smile on his lips.

“More like coerced, but at least he’s out,” Marvin replies, sitting on the edge of the couch and once again beginning to run his fingers through Chase’s hair, “Has he always been this difficult?”

Jackie pushes away from the wall and walks over, plopping down on the floor in front of the pair. “You have no idea,” he groans, “I would come back at 6am after a patrol and find him still up on his computer, surrounded by empty beer bottles or energy drinks, depending on the night.”

Something squeezes in Marvin’s chest at the way Jackie looks at Chase with so much pained affection. Those two have really been through some shit since they moved in together. Marvin just wishes he had been around to help.

The least he can do now is lighten the mood.

“He’s a fuckin’ hazard, you know.”

Jackie looks up, snapping out of his daze, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes!! All I had to do is wiggle my little magic fingers for a sec and he was out. But hey, that’s what he gets for making a bet he couldn’t win!” Marvin says with a wide grin, flashing his abnormally sharp teeth.

Jackie can’t help but smile back, “Go easy on him, babe.”

“You wish. He’s way too cute not to mess with.”

“Okay, fair,” Jackie says. He’s pretty close to laughing now, which Marvin counts as a win. He stands up, stretching before leaning down and effortlessly scooping Chase up into his arms. “I think he deserves some real rest. Especially after being attacked by some big bad villain,” Jackie teases, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend before starting down the hall.

Marvin bounces up after him, giggling, “Yeah, yeah - I’m the bad guy here. It’s not like he was antagonizing me. Trying to kick me off of the counter… he’s a monster, baby.”

“Be careful, next time he might bring a nerf gun with him,” Jackie laughs. He nudges Chase’s bedroom door open with his foot and carries the sleeping man inside.

“I’d kill him before he got a chance to shoot me,” Marvin deadpans from the doorway.

“Oh I’m sure.”

“And he’d deserve it.”

“Sure would,” Jackie smiles down at Chase before pulling up his blankets and brushing the hair out of his eyes. He walks back over to Marvin and leans in for a kiss, then gently pulls the door shut behind them. “Come on, babe, we should get to bed, too. It’s way too late.”

Marvin kisses Jackie again, warmth blooming in his chest. “Only if you carry me, too.”

Jackie laughs, then scoops Marvin up in his arms, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Oh, I know.”

-

Chase wakes up to sun streaming through his blinds. He rolls out of bed and walks to the bathroom on autopilot, flicking on the lights and starting the shower without even thinking.

After a few minutes under the water he realizes that he… doesn’t actually remember falling asleep. He was working on videos, then went to make coffee, and then…

“Goddamnit, Marv.”

[all-the-love-harold]

Chapter 5 - The End and the Beginning

This is a long and emotional one, so get settled in. A special thanks this time goes to @lovesmelikebrandnewstarlight as always for listening to me and to @harrysofluffy for talking through my ideas and giving me inspiration. Also there’s a tiny bit of smut in this one.  Points to anyone that finds the Harry Potter reference..

Chapter 4 

Master Post 

Inbox 

January 20th, 2015- Byron Bay  Australia

 Poppy hated the Beach. She hated the way the sand stuck to everything, she hated sitting out in the sun for hours and getting burnt, she hated swimming in the water where she couldn’t see exactly what was in it and she hated wearing her bikini in front of people. But it was the middle of January in Australia and the heat was getting to her more than she remembered it used to. H had a few months off in between One Direction tours and she’d convinced him to come home with her because she was desperate for an actual summer, but right now, as she sat on the beach in Byron Bay, she was regretting that decision.

“H, can you put sunscreen on my back” she asked, handing him the bottle of SPF 50+.”

 “Turn around” he said, taking the bottle off her and squeezing it out into his hand. SHe turned around and held her hair up out of the way as he rubbed it over her back, massaging it in, taking it under her bikini straps and right down to her ass.

 “Cheeks too pleasssse” she smiled cheekily at him

 He shook his head at her “Lay on your towel, it’s easier that way”

 Poppy spread her towel out on the ground and laid on her stomach, resting her chin on her arms while he rubbed the sunscreen over her butt cheeks.

 “Done” he said, resting the bottle of sunscreen on her elbow

 “Your turn” she smiled, sitting up and squeezing it onto her hand “Or will Kendall have a problem with that?”

 He giggled “I think she’ll be ok love, I did just lather it into your ass cheeks”

“Would you two get a room please?” Called Poppy’s friend Bella, who she went to high school with. This little trip home as a great chance for her to reconnect with all the people who had been so important to her just a few years ago.

“Shut it Bella!” she called back “you’re just jealous”

“Uhhhh, yeah” Bella said “Obviously”

“I can put sunscreen on your ass too if you want” Harry giggled

Poppy slapped him across the back “You have a girlfriend Styles”

“I don’t actually” he said “and don’t slap me Poopy - it’s abuse”

“Oh fuck off” she laid back down on her towel and Harry spread his out next to hers, mimicking her position, turning his head to that he was looking at her.

“Your friends are pretty lame” he whispered so that only Poppy could hear

“Why do you think I moved to London?”

He let out a loud cackle and they all turned around to look at the two of them.

“Ok” Tilly said, sitting up and moving closer to Poppy and Harry “are you guys seriously telling us you’ve never, in the almost two years you’ve known each other, you’ve never done the horizontal tango?”

“Nope, we’ve never even kissed” Poppy said, sitting up and drawing her legs up to her chest

“We can change that that” Harry winked at her, sitting up too.

“Eww” Tilly said “so you’ve never even seen each other naked?”

“Now, that’s not the question you asked” Harry said

“Ooooh” Bella sat up “do tell Pop! Is it as big as the world thinks it is?”

Poppy looked at Harry and back at Bella and Tilly “Let’s just say that Kendall is a lucky girl”

They both screamed and Harry glared at her

“Thanks love” he half smiled

“Oh don’t pretend you care, you leaked your own nudes”

He furrowed his brow at Poppy and stood up “I’m gonna go for a swim come get me when you’re finished talking about my dick”

“Stylllllesss” Poppy said “sit down. We’re done, we’ll swim soon.”

“Fine” he huffed sitting back down

“I just can’t believe you’ve never done the dirty” Tilly rested her chin in her hands “you both look that that, and you’ve never done it”

“Seems fake to me” Bella said

“Bella, it would be like you and Jack getting down to business”

“Oh ew, ok gotcha”

“So” Tilly said raising her eyebrows “if you’ve never slept with Harry, surely you’ve slept with one of the other members of One Direction, you did go on tour with them”

Poppy and Harry both looked towards each other sharing a knowing glance.

“Nope” Poppy said hoping that Tilly would drop the subject

“I saw that look!” Tilly yelled “you so have”

“I haven’t! I swear on my life”

“Niall has the hots for her though” Harry smirked

“Oooh” Bella said “the Irish one”

Poppy’s cheeks blushed red, and Harry could tell she was uncomfortable talking about this so he quickly started talking before anyone else had the chance to

“Well now that that’s cleared up” He  clapped his hands together “can we go for a swim?”

Poppy stood and threw her hat and phone on top of her bag thankful to not have to talk about Niall anymore. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, it was quite the opposite actually but since they hadn’t spent that much time alone together she didn’t really know where they stood.

“Yess let’s go” she said

Harry stood too, and hid her phone in in his hat for safety

“Race ya Poopy” and he took off towards the water, with Poppy trailing behind.

 February 6th 2015, Sydney.

 Niall’s lips ran down Poppy’s torso and her hands intertwined in his hair as he reached her centre and she arched her back. They’d been at it for hours, she was sensitive and even the slightest of touches sent shivers down her spine, but she didn’t want to stop yet, it had been too long since she’d had sex like this and she didn’t want it to end.

Niall reached over to the bedside table in search of a condom, pulling them out of their rhythm a little.

“Fuck” he sighed “we’re all out darlin’” he shook the box one last time to make sure there wasn’t one stuck in the bottom and sat up, placing a kiss on Poppy’s forehead.

“Sorry love” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’ll finish ya off in just in minute, need to catch me breath”

Poppy wrapped the sheet around her body and stood up from the bed, making sure her ass was covered.

“Where ya going love?” Niall asked

“Harry will have condoms” she smirked and walked out of Niall’s hotel room before he could protest, holding onto her sheet. Her hair was a mess, her  cheeks were flushed and her legs were still shaking as she made her way to Harry’s room, which was only down the hallway.

She knocked twice, “only me, H” she said quietly. The light flicked on and she  heard his footsteps making their way towards the door. When he opened the door and caught sight of her his eyes widened and a frown appeared on his face.

“Christ love, what happened?” He said sleepily, ushering her inside, away from any prying eyes that could be lurking around.

“Uhhh, Niall happened” she said

“Are you ok?” he asked, filling a glass with water and handing it to her, eyes still half closed and adjusting to the light

Poppy took the glass and had a sip, not realising how thirsty she actually was “I’m fine H”

“What’s going on then?”

“I uh” she stuttered “we um, we ran out of condoms”

He blinked twice “You ran out?”

“Yes. we used the entire box” she said flatly

“The whole thing? All 12 of ‘em”

“Yep”

“Fuck” he sighed before his eyes narrowed “So what are you doing here then?”

“We need more”

“More?” he raised his eyebrow “you’ve used 12 and you need more?”

“Yes” she nodded, suddenly becoming very aware that she was naked under the sheet and pulled it tighter around herself.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Don’t know why it wouldn’t be?” she said

Harry shrugged “Maybe because our world tour starts in less than 24 hours and we kinda need Niall to be alive and not fucked to death”

“He’ll be fine by tomorrow night H”  

“Will you be?”

“I don’t need to be, and christ H, it’s just sex, it’s not like we’re hurting anyone”

He shook his head in disbelief and turned around, and sitting on the bed “Just my ears”

She covered her  mouth, not realising until now that he probably heard most of what they’d just done.

“Sorry H” she put her  hand on his shoulder and he picked up and moved it away

“I know where that’s been Poppy, you don't leave much to the imagination”

Poppy blushed “Oh you heard like…. A lot?”

“Everything” he smiled sarcastically “Every detail”

“Ooooh - even the bit where I called him…..”

“Big Daddy?” he interrupted “Yeah I heard that”  

“Whoops” she said “I didn’t think we were that loud”

“You were”

“Guess I’m not getting any condoms then?” she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him

“Why are you doing this Pop? You didn’t even want to go on the date, and now you’re here, at 2am, asking for more condoms” the concern was evident in his voice, he’d never known her  to do anything like this, as far as he knew, her  sex life was as vanilla as anything, and this sort of thing was out of character for her

Poppy sat down next to him “Harry” she made him look at her “Before tonight, it had been almost a year since I’d had a proper orgasm, I’ve had” she counted on her fingers all the times Niall had made her cum that night “10 tonight . The dude knows what he’s doing”

“I heard” he pulled his lips into a sharp line and stood up, walking towards the bathroom. She stood and followed curiously, standing in the doorway as he searched through his bag of toiletries.

“How many?” he asked

“I don’t know, maybe like three?”

“You think he’s got that much left in him?” he giggled to himself

“I hope so” she lent her head on the doorframe

“10 bucks he’s asleep when you get back” he handed her  three condoms and turned the light off in the bathroom “Not sure they’ll fit big daddy though, you might be disappointed”

“Oh please, we both know you’re bigger”

A smirk spread across his face “You said it, not me”

She shook her head and made her way toward the door “Night Styles, we’ll keep it down, I promise”  

***

Poppy was woken by the alarm at 8 am the next morning, wrapped in Niall’s arms and covered in a film of her own sweat.

“Morning Darlin’” Niall smiled at her when he saw her eyes flutter open “sleep well?”

“Could use another hour” she yawned

“Me too, but breakfast calls”

She sighed and pulled the blankets back, revealing her naked body, covered in marks and bruises from the night before.

“I’m going  back to Harry’s room to shower first” She lent over and kissed his cheek “Need to freshen up”

“There’s a perfectly good shower here, why don’t we hop in there together, save some time?”

She checked the time on her phone, which was almost out of battery, and looked back at Niall

“We’ve got plenty of time before you boys need to be anywhere, and all my stuff is next door”

“Fine” he huffed and watched her get out of bed “you can use the robe that’s hangin’ on the door if you don’t want to get dressed”

“Thanks Ni” she kissed his forehead, wrapped herself in the soft bathrobe and left the room, gently closing the door behind her. The hallway was quiet and she guessed that the other boys were all still asleep, so she quietly tapped on Harry’s door, hoping he would be awake.

“How did Big Daddy go last night?” He smirked when he answered the door.

She stayed silent, walked over to her handbag, which was sitting in the corner, took out her purse and handed Harry a 10 dollar note.

He let out a loud, full body, cackle and reached his arms out to hug her “Awww poor Poopy, only had 10 orgasms last night”

“Fuck off Styles” she huffed and pushed him away “Go buy yourself an ice cream with your winnings”

“Don’t eat ice cream anymore” he said sitting down on the bed

“Bullshit” she said as she rummaged through her bag for clothes that would cover most of her bruises but still be cool enough for the hot weather “I’m having a shower”

“Yeah, good idea” he said, watching as she  walked into the bathroom “wash all the Niall off you”

 Saturday, April 4th 2015, 5am, Dubai

 Harry stirred in his bed as he was awoken by the sound of his phone ringing. He was sure he’d left it on silent before he drifted off last night, but when he saw that it was Poppy’s name lighting up his screen he was glad that he hadn’t because he knew she wouldn’t call at this hour unless she really needed something.

“Hi love” he mumbled “what’s going on?”

“Harrrrrry?” Poppy’s voice echoed loudly in his ear and he could tell that she was drunk just by the sound of her voice

“It’s me love, is everything ok?” He sat up and turned his lamp on, rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the light

“Nooo, H, I don't really know where I am”

His stomach dropped “Who are you with?”

“No one” she said sounding as if she was about to start crying

“Who were you with?”

“Ali, but she found a boy and now I’m alone and I don’t know where I am”

“Ok” he blinked a few times, trying to think how he could help her from so far away “What’s around you love? What can you see?”

“Ummm, there’s some cars parked and a few bikes, I think I might be near your house”

“Can you see any street signs?”

“Yeppp, there’s one up there” Harry heard her start walking

“What does it say?”

“Duck Lane” she giggled  

He let out a little chuckle “You’re nowhere near my place love, did you go to that cocktail bar?”

“Yeah” she sobbed “I don’t know how to get back there”

“Are there any black cabs around?”

“I can’t afford a cab Harry” she whispered “I need to find the tube”

“Put it on my card, don’t get on the tube by yourself at this time of night love, you still have my spare card don’t you?” He’d given Poppy a card that was attached his account before he’d left for tour, so that if she was ever stuck she could get herself out of whatever mess she was in.

“For emergencies only” she said

“This is an emergency Pop, how else will you get home?”

“I’ll walk” she said, stamping her foot on the ground like a toddler having a tantrum

“It will take you hours, just get in a cab” he said sternly,

“Fine” she huffed “Bye H”

“Thank you, call me back when you get home please”

Poppy hung up her phone and Harry was left sitting in silence in his hotel room, too worried about her  to go back to sleep, so he got up and put the kettle on, thinking that if he couldn't go back to sleep, he might as well have a cup of tea.

Ten minutes passed and he was growing more worried with each passing second, but as he finished the hot drink in his hand, his phone rang again, Poppy’s name lighting up the screen.

“Home then?” He asked, bringing the phone to his ear

“I am home” she said bluntly

“Good” he sighed “Everything else ok?”

She huffed “Nobody's ever going to love me Harry”

His heart broke at the sound of her voice “That’s not true Poppy, anyone would be lucky to have you”

“No you don’t understand, no one is ever going to settle down with me, once they find out they’re going to leave me”

Harry furrowed his brow, “Find out what love? Have I missed something here?”

“No, I’ve never told anyone before, I don’t want you to hate me” she was properly sobbing now and Harry was having trouble deciphering what she was saying

“I could never hate you Poppy, you’re my best friend”

“I love you Harry”

“I love you too lady love” he said “are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“No” she sobbed “I’m too scared to say it, that makes it real, I don’t want it to be real”

He hated hearing her in so much pain without being able to do anything about it.

“Well for now, Poppy, it doesn’t have to be real, but when you’re ready to say it, I’m all ears” his voice was soft, and soothing, and just hearing him was enough to calm her down a little.

“I need sleep” she moaned

“You certainly do love, get yourself a glass of water and go to bed, I’ll call you later today, before the show, and I’ll be home Monday, we’ll hang out”

“Good night Harry” Poppy  yawned into the mouthpiece

“Good night lady love”

***

Monday, April 6th, 2015, London. 7pm

 Harry had arrived home from the first leg of One Direction’s stadium tour, he was exhausted, but he’d spent the entire day making sure Poppy was ok. After she’d called him the other morning he’d not been able to stop thinking about what she’d been saying, that conversation had left him feeling like she was  keeping something from him and while he respected that it was her right to have her space, this was obviously something that was getting to her and he hated seeing it bother her the way it did the other night.

“Poppy?” he said as he rinsed their dinner plates off and put them in the dishwasher

“Hmm?” she took a sip of her water

“Do you remember the conversation we had the other night, after you made it home?”

Her cheeks flushed a shade of red, knowing exactly what he was referring to and regretting ever having brought it up.

“Vaguely” she said, hoping that he would drop the conversation after that

“What were you talking about?”

She looked up from her glass, “I’ve never said it out loud before H”

He walked around the bench and sat down on the stool next to her.

“Do you want to say it out loud?” he asked, voice soft and full of concern

She shook her head, unable to look him in the eye “But I want you to know”

“Do you want to write it down?” he said, looking around the bench for a piece of paper

“No” she said, tears forming in her eyes “It’s stupid, it doesn’t even really affect me at this point in my life, but it’s all I’ve been thinking about for a few months now” she took a deep breath, turning her head to look at him “I’m going to tell you, but only because I need someone to know and you’re the person I trust most in the world, but this is part of me that is for your eyes only H, you can’t tell anyone and you can’t think of me any differently because of it”

He put his hands over hers “You can let your guard down Poppy, I won't think of you any differently”

“I can’t have babies H” the tears spilled out of her eyes

“Fuck” he sighed “Poppy I’m sorry, I know how much you want that”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted” she sobbed and his heart broke for her.

He stood and wrapped his arms around her, “How long have you known?”

She buried her head in his chest “I was 14, I got really sick when I was on my period once and ended up in hospital and they found that my uterus is a funny shape, and there’s pretty much two of them, so I can’t carry a baby to term”

Harry remained silent for a minute rubbing her back gently as she cried into his chest “There are other ways love”

Poppy pulled away from his hug and wiped her eyes “I know, this is stupid” she giggled “I’m 21, I don’t want kids yet, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it lately, what if no one ever loves me enough to stay once they find out?”

“If someone walks out on you once they know you can't have kids, then they’re not the man you want to father your children anyway, someone will love you no matter what, I promise you Poppy, you’re too lovely to to be lonely” He grabbed a tissue from the box that sat on her bench and handed it to her so that she could wipe her eyes.

“Thanks H, I’m sorry for being so dramatic”

“Poppy Thomas? dramatic?” he chuckled “Never”

 June 13, 2015 , London

 “Lady” Poppy called in a high pitched voice while she searched for her phone under the couch cushions.

The Golden puppy came bounding over with Poppy’s left shoe in her mouth.

“Uh, no” Poppy grabbed the shoe “You can’t just take my shoes, even if you are that cute”

Lady didn’t put up a fight when she took the shoe off her, she simply let go and licked Poppy’s hand, because that was way more tasty than her sweaty old flip flops.

“Alright, should we call Harry, tell him the good news?!” She picked lady up and took her over to the kitchen counter so that she could skype Harry. The dial tone rang a few times and then the screen turned from blue to a pixelated black before Harry’s face appeared.

“What’s up Lady love?” he said, sounding a little distracted.

“I have some news” Poppy said back, making sure that Lady wasn’t in shot yet.

“Go on then” impatience was evident in his voice now  

Poppy lifted lady up, like a scene out of the lion king “Meet Lady”

His jaw dropped. “You got a Puppy?!”

“I was lonely without you coming over every other day, and little miss here was going to be put to sleep”

“You know I’ll be home in a few weeks right?” he questioned. Poppy thought he would have been way more excited about this than he appears to be right now, but she knew he was busy with the tour and the recording of the fifth and final One Direction album  

“Yeah,” she nodded and covered the dogs ears “but they were going to kill her H, plus I figured that a dog will love me unconditionally and no man is ever going to” she said

He rolled his eyes, “I love you Pop, does that not count?”

“No” she shook her head “because you keep leaving me and you don’t love me romantically”

“Well she is adorable” he admitted,keen to change the subject a smile slowly spreading across his face “Can’t believe you’ve replaced me though”

“I could never replace you, but she has taken your spot on the couch”

“See. Replaced” he giggled, changing his mood slightly and there was a crash in the background which made him turn his head away from the camera. “Christ, careful Nailler, you almost knocked the whole stage down”

“Sorry” Poppy heard Niall’s muffled irish accent call as Harry’s face turned back towards the camera “You had sex with that” he said sarcastically

“You set it up” Poppy’s cheeks turned bright red just thinking about the last time she’d seen Niall.

“I will not take responsibility” Harry shook his head.

“You should” she put the puppy down on the ground because she started squirming in her arms

“Nope” he shook his head “anyway, where did you get her?”

“The shelter near work keeps bringing in pamphlets and I saw her and she reminded me so much of my old dog Rosie and I just couldn’t help myself”

“And she’s basically got the same name as you” Harry smiled

“So we’re meant to be”

October 15th, 2015 - London Metropolitan University.

 Three years of stress and anxiety over assignments and grades had finally come to an end, but now Poppy’s whole life was up in the air. The lease on her apartment ended in February and if she didn’t find a job in London before then she’d have to pack up her life once again and move it back home, except that sydney didn’t feel like home anymore and going back there was the last thing Poppy wanted to do. Adorned in her gown and cap she sat down in her allocated seat, next to Alison who had been her rock since the day they both set foot on campus and Ali just had to make friends with the ‘exoctic’ Australian girl with the thick accent.

“Can you believe we’re here?” Ali said, pulling Poppy out of her thoughts.

“No” Poppy shook her head in disbelief “and I can’t believe he’s not here” she stood from her chair and looked around the room, not able to spot Harry’s face anywhere. He was all she had, her family wasn’t able to make it over because her younger sister, Adi, was in the middle of her final High School exams and they couldn’t leave. But Harry promised he would be there, to cheer for her and she knew that he was on tour at the moment,  and his life was ten times crazier than her own, but today she needed him.  

“He’ll show” Ali nodded “and if he doesn’t, I’ll thump him”

“Yeah” Poppy laughed nervously “That will go well, I’m sure”

“I have muscles” she huffed

“If he doesn’t get here soon he’ll cause a scene” Poppy sighed, her face turning red just thinking about it.

“He’s Harry Styles honey, he’s going to cause a scene no matter what” Ali glanced over towards the door where people were slowly filing into the room for the ceremony. “Now turn around.”

Poppy did as she was asked and subtly glanced over in the same direction and to her surprise, there was Harry, in a black hoodie and his signature skinny jeans, hair tied up in a bun and next to him was someone who Poppy knew to be Nick Grimshaw. She knew they were friends, and she’d met nick a few times at parties that Harry had dragged her to, but she certainly wasn't expecting him to show up at her graduation, if anything, she thought Harry might have brought Anne or Gemma along with him, but she figured they had their own things going on today. A smile stretched wide across Poppy’s face as she watched them take their seats and all the nerves disappeared.

“Who’s that with him?” Ali said

“Nick grimshaw, they’re friends, have been since before I met him”

Ali nodded “Didn’t see that coming, but cool”

Before Poppy had a chance to say anything else on the matter, orchestral music began to play through the loudspeakers and the room fell into silence. The butterflies in the pit of Poppy’s stomach appeared again as she watched the Vice Chancellor of the University walk across the stage towards the podium to start his address.

“Welcome” he said with a deeper voice than Poppy expected “to our graduation ceremony for the class of 2015, a class that has worked tirelessly for the last three years,and now sits before you, ready to be the force of change in their chosen industry”

Ali tapped Poppy on the shoulder “The only things any of us  idiots are capable of changing is that light globe over there” she pointed towards a light in the corner of the room that was no longer shining.

“Don’t even think I could do that” Poppy giggled

“I don’t want to bore you this early in the ceremony” the chancellor continued “so I leave you with these words from Ms J.K Rowling ‘We do not need magic to transform our world, we carry everything we need inside ourselves already, we have the power to imagine better.’”

The vice Chancellor left the podium and the room erupted in applause as they watched the next speaker take his place. Poppy turned around in her seat and spotted Harry again, who was looking right at her, she offered a small wave which he quickly returned with a dimpled smile and a thumbs up.

Name after name was called and Poppy and Ali watched as their classmates received their diplomas and a round of applause from their guests. There were at least eighty students in front of her and maybe double that behind but before she knew it Poppy was being ushered out of her seat ready for her name to be called.

“Don’t trip Poppy” she said to herself as the dean of her school read out her name.

“Poppy Thomas - Bachelor of Business and Bachelor of Events management- Music and entertainment”

Concentrating on each step she took Poppy made her way across the stage, to shake the Vice chancellors hand and take her degree with her. Harry and Nick had stood up as her name was called and clapped the entire time she was on the stage. It didn’t take long before the room was busy muttering Harry’s name and snapping photos of him but they quickly turned to silence again when Poppy was off stage and Ali’s name was called.

The ceremony dragged on for another hour or so and by the time it ended Poppy felt a great sense of relief to be leaving the hall, not because it was the last time she’d ever be there, but because she’d been there for so long.

“Congratulations Miss Graduate” Harry said to her as she made her way towards him and Nick

“I’m done Harry!” she wrapped her arms around him an buried her head in his chest. “Thanks for coming, I know you’re busy right now”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, I’m proud of you” he kissed her on the forehead and drew away from the hug.

“Thanks H”  she smiled “Hey nick”

“Congrats Pop” he said “Bachelor of events management, you could come and work at radio 1, we have events to manage”

“Is that an offer?” she laughed so that he would think she was joking even if she wasn’t “Because I’ll take it”

“I can talk to Big Boss Ben, see what I can do”

Poppy’s jaw dropped in surprise, but before she could say anything, Ali came running up behind her

“The girls and I are going to the pub Pop, you coming?”

“Only if these two do” Poppy looked at Harry and Nick

Harry checked the time on his phone and nodded “I’ll come for an hour or two, but I’ve got a flight to catch at 8”

December 13th, 2015, X-Factor Studios.

 Two more songs. One more time on stage. This was it for One Direction for the next few years at least, and for Harry,  it was the End of the Beginning.

“I like this new look you’ve got going on H” Poppy said walking into his dressing room and seeing him in a new red floral suit

“Good” he smiled, buttoning the top button of his plain black shirt “You’re going to be seeing a lot more of it”

“Can you believe that this is it?”

“No, but this feels like the right place to end it doesn’t it?”

“Yeah” Poppy nodded “I Open at the Close and all that”

“Exactly” Harry said

“This feels weird” she admitted “You’re going to wake up tomorrow morning and not be Harry Styles from Direction”

“And I’m going to stay at yours so I don’t have to wake up alone as well”

“You can stay at mine whenever you like, you know that”

“Well you better get used to that too, because I’ve got nowhere to be until February”

“Good” she smiled “Well I better go find my seat, I’ll see you after”

“Bye Lady Love” he waved as Poppy walked out of the room.

Emotions were high through the whole arena and sitting in the front row, almost adjacent to the judges, Poppy felt herself welling up before they were even onstage. The lights dimmed signalling the end of the ad break on the live broadcast and Olly Murs, who was hosting the show took to the stage, x factor card in one hand and microphone in the other.

“They have toured around the world and we are very proud to have them here tonight” Olly said and the room filled with deafening screams “Please welcome home, One Direction”

A video rolled on the screen above the stage that detailed the last five years of the boys lives and the tears that had been threatening to fall all night did when an image of Harry from only a few days after they met flashed on the screen. The boys appeared from under the stage and Harry locked eyes with Poppy almost immediately but quickly turned away to compose himself before he had to start singing. As the video came to an end the opening notes of ‘Infinity’ echoed through the room and Niall sang the first few lines. As the song made its way to the chorus the boys moved away from their mics and started dancing around stage, Harry and Niall heading straight for where Poppy was standing, causing everyone around her to scream. She smiled at Harry and avoided eye contact with Niall. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him anymore, she actually really enjoyed the casual arrangement that they had now, but tonight wasn’t the night for it.

This was one of Poppy’s favourite sings off the new album so she found herself lost in the lyrics and before she knew it the song was over and Olly Murs was back on stage, talking to the boys and allowing simon to say a few words. Another video filled with messages of love for the boys was played on the screen and Poppy blushed when she remembered that she was a part of it.

“My boys” the version of Poppy projected through the screen said “I’m so very proud of all of you and you certainly deserve a break just don’t stay away too long, my sister might have a breakdown”

Harry turned around and made eye contact with poppy once again, a big smile spread across his face and he blew her a kiss.

“Alright” Olly said as the video came to an end “For the last time, this is one direction, with their latest single, History”

“You gotta help me” Harry sang, looking straight at Poppy “I’m losing my mind”

Poppy sang the lyrics back at him and she lost herself in the moment, forgetting that they were in a room filled with thousands of people and not in her living room with just the two of them. The song ended and the boys pulled each other into a group hug and Simon and Olly said a few more words and just like that, One Direction was on Hiatus. The TV broadcast went to another ad break and Harry ran over to Poppy, offering her a hand and pulling her up on stage.

“You did it Hairy!” she said hugging him tight.

“Couldn’t have without you Poop”

The rest of the boys ran over and wrapped both Poppy and Harry in a group hug that swayed from side to side for a moment and then broke, leaving Harry’s arm around her shoulder.

“Can I take you home now?” Poppy asked

“No, we’re going out now Lady love”

[thepartyresponsible]

halloween fill #9. i got the prompt for this one by combining ideas from here and here.

the prompt was: in vino veritas + serial killers.

here’s steve rogers and tony stark, as special agents instead of superheroes. warnings for references to alcoholism, crime scene gore, and murder victims, including one murdered child. warnings also for irredeemable fluff and spilled coffee.

Steve gets the first text at 1:15am. It’s from Barton, and all it says is: Come get him. Now.

The second text hits a little after 1:20, when Steve’s sliding his wallet into the pocket of his jeans and trying to remember where the hell he left his keys. No words this time, just an image. Steve doesn’t open it until he’s in the car.

It’s Tony, facedown on the bar. Steve tries not to think what it says about him – about the both of them – that he can recognize Tony just from the way his dark hair fans out against the pitted wood of Barton’s bar.

By the time he gets to Clint’s place, Tony’s out in the alley, puking. So at least that’s over with.

“Hey, man,” Barton says, as he sidles up to the window. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, toward Tony. “Blowjobs are twenty dollars. Thirty if he pukes on you.”

Steve stares at him. “Hi, Barton,” he says, after a beat, because his mother raised him with manners. “Why in God’s name would the price go up if he pukes on me?”

Barton shrugs. “I don’t know why you’re into the weird shit you’re into, Rogers. I just know as soon as he gets sick you come running.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve says. He shoves the door open, and Clint dances back out of the way, which means he, at least, is still sober enough to drive himself home. “You mind not getting him so shitfaced on a Tuesday night, Barton?”

“Nat served him,” he says, with a shrug. “You got a problem with how drunk he gets, take it up with her.” He gives Steve a wave and sets off toward the bar, passing the torch in the increasingly complicated relay of keeping Tony alive through any given workweek.

Steve would throw more of a fit, but there was never a chance that anyone at this bar was going to cut Tony off. Not tonight. Not after what happened to the Coopers. Not when they know they can call Steve to pick him up. Which is exactly why Tony comes here when he knows he’s about to make a series of bad decisions.

“Hey, Steve,” Tony says, when he finishes puking and comes staggering out into the parking lot, a lit cigarette in either hand. “Sorry. Did Clint call you? I was just gonna sleep it off.”

“In your car?” Steve glances around at the snow piling up, at the clear sky above. “How many fingers were you planning to have in the morning, Stark?”

“Oh, Stark.” Tony winces. “Guess I’m in trouble.”

He lifts one cigarette to his mouth and inhales while he ashes the other one with a neat, well-practiced flick. He switches them out on the exhale, and Steve would be more impressed if he hadn’t seen this routine about a dozen times over in the past three months.

“I told you,” Steve says, even though he knows he shouldn’t. Even though he knows it’s pointless. “I told you about this case. What’d I say?”

“You say a lot of things,” Tony tells him, with a mutinous huff. “Don’t you have anything better to do with that mouth? Cuz I’ve got suggestions, if you’re looking.”

“Great,” Steve says, because he hadn’t realized they’d hit that part of the evening. “Load up. We’re driving with your window down.”

“I have never,” Tony says, with an awful lot of dignity for a man in his condition, “thrown up in your car.”

“No, but you’ve puked out that window a few times.” Steve hooks a hand around Tony’s elbow and starts herding him toward the car.

“Oh no, you’re doing it again,” Tony says, grimacing down at Steve’s hold. “Steve, you’re perp walking me. Steve, c’mon.”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Steve tells him. “In fact, I welcome it. I request it.”

He takes one cigarette out of Tony’s hand, and, while he’s whining about that, he snatches the other, and he grinds them both out against the asphalt.

“You’re a real asshole, Steve Rogers,” Tony says, staring grimly over his shoulder at his crushed up cigarettes.

“Yeah, that’s what you always tell me.” Steve opens the passenger door. “Watch your head,” he says, and then he guides him in anyway, hand wrapped protectively around the top of Tony’s head so he doesn’t give himself yet another set of bruises.

“Ugh,” Tony says, staring up at him with an interesting mix of despair and defiance. “You’re arresting me.”

“I am not arresting you,” Steve says. “I am taking you home.”

“You never mean that in the fun way,” Tony tells him. For a second, he looks legitimately forlorn, sitting there in Steve’s car, eyes bloodshot, face pale everywhere except the bruises under his eyes.

It’s hard to remember, when he looks like this, that this is Special Agent Stark, the Iron Man, the agent who brought down Vanko, and Stane, and the Mandarin. He looks worn down and vulnerable, looks harmless. Defenseless. Fragile.

He’ll probably throw up twice more before Steve gets him home, but he’ll be at work by nine tomorrow morning, handing breakfast and coffee, dropping notes on people’s desks with breakthroughs he had in the night.

Steve sighs. “I told you,” he says, gentler than before. “I told you not to keep this case. You’re too close to it, Tony. Fury should’ve reassigned you weeks ago.”

Tony closes his eyes and slumps low in his seat. “You gonna lecture me the whole drive home?” he asks. “Because I’d rather just wait for the Barton express.”

Steve rolls his eyes and very deliberately does not slam the door. By the time he gets around the car and into his own seat, it’s impossible to tell if Tony’s actually passed out or just faking it, so he reaches over and buckles him in, rolls the window down low enough that Tony won’t headbutt the glass this time if he needs to throw up some more.

They make it about five miles before Tony tips his head Steve’s direction and opens his eyes. “We don’t know he killed Coopers,” he says. “Could’ve been a copycat.”

Steve wonders if that’s what Tony’s been telling himself. If it makes it any easier, the idea that maybe this wasn’t their fault. Maybe the serial killer they’ve been tracking all over the East Coast didn’t double back to murder the Coopers right in in their backyard to prove some kind of point.

But the neatness of the crime scene, the execution-style gunshot wounds, the words Hail Hydra painted with the father’s blood on the windshield. It sure as hell looks like the Winter Soldier’s work.

“You’re too close to it,” Steve says. “Tony, it’s not healthy.”

“Take it away then,” Tony says. “Give up on it. Go in and tell Fury tomorrow that we’re done.”

Steve swallows. His hands tighten around the steering wheel.

“Yeah,” Tony says, with that throaty, rattling laugh he gets whenever he’s been smoking too much. “You can’t give it up either, Rogers.”

Steve doesn’t show strain the way Tony does. He doesn’t drink; he doesn’t go days without sleep. He likes to be in control. And the more things stir up, the harder things lean into the chaos, the more controlled he becomes.

But it’d be a lie to say that it isn’t getting to him. It’d be dishonest to pretend like he doesn’t want to find the person who did this and control them right out existence.  

“I’ll drop it,” Steve says. “I would. I will. Tony, you’re not coping.”

“Maggots are eating that five-year-old girl, Stevie,” Tony says, with another creaking laugh. “How does anyone cope?”

Steve grimaces. “Jesus,” he says, “you don’t have to get so graphic.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Tony says.

Steve swallows and speeds up. No one is going to pull him over, and, if they do, there’s no cop in this city who’d write him a ticket. Not Captain America. Not with Tony Stark in the passenger seat.

“You shouldn’t drink so much,” he says, when he can’t bite it back anymore. “I know how you feel. I get it. But it’s getting out of control.”

“You should’ve seen me in my twenties,” Tony says, with a small, self-effacing smile. “That whole decade was out of control.”

“Stop deflecting,” Steve says, as they pull into Tony’s driveway. “I’m worried about you, Tony. Jesus. This is a mess. You’re a mess. This case is a mess. We shouldn’t--”

“Wanna come inside?” Tony asks, interrupting him. He smiles, crooked and smug and a little knowing. “Or are you still pretending that you aren’t interested?”

Steve frowns. He shoves the car into park with a bit more vehemence than necessary and then he reaches over and undoes Tony’s seatbelt. “You need help getting inside?” he asks.

Tony laughs again, and it’s too fond to be mean, but it stings anyway. “Yes,” he says, “I need help getting inside, and I need help getting to bed, and I need help getting undressed. C’mon, Steve, help me out.”

“I hate when you do this,” Steve says, softer than he wants to, a little hollow with how much he means it. “I hate it, Tony. I wish you’d stop.”

Tony’s silent for a long moment and then he curses quietly and shoves the door open. Steve hears the clatter of his shoes hitting the ground, and then there’s nothing. Eventually, he hears Tony sigh. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Steve, fuck, look at me.”

Steve looks up. He can’t help it. He’s been looking at Tony for years.

Tony studies him, and a pained, apologetic grimaces crosses his face. “Shit, Rogers,” he says, “I didn’t mean to--- I really did think you were interested.”

Steve breathes in sharp over his teeth. It’s cold and dark and surreal, damn near 2am on a Wednesday morning. And they both have to be at work in a handful of hours.

“You’ve never made a single move when you’re sober,” he says.  He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, but he doesn’t manage it. That’s always been a problem for him. He’s always just a bit too honest.

Tony stares at him for a long second before he swings the door shut. Steve watches him until he’s inside, just to be sure. Just to make sure he’s safe.

  There’s a loud, insistent knocking on Steve’s door that starts up around 7am and does not stop. There’s a rhythm to it that’s nearly recognizable, and, as Steve makes his way carefully toward the front of his house, it resolves into the opening riff of Back in Black. Which means it’s Tony.

Which means he doesn’t need the gun he instinctively grabbed on his way to the door.

Tony’s not the only one coping poorly with the Winter Soldier’s sudden reappearance. It’s just that Tony, as usual, is so much louder about it.

Steve leaves his sidearm on the kitchen counter and runs a hand through his hair as he goes for the door. A quick glance through the window shows Tony, head banging softly, holding coffee in one hand and pounding at Steve’s door with the other.

“Steve,” Tony yells, like he can sense him. “Steve, sleepyhead, Goldilocks, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.”

Steve unlocks the two deadbolts and swings the door open. Tony openly goggles at Steve’s bare chest for a second before very determinedly looking up at his face. “The Winter Soldier’s talking to us, Steve,” he says. He grabs the folder he’d had shoved under his arm and waves it in Steve’s face. “Messages,” he elaborates, as he steps, uninvited, right into Steve’s house. “I’ve been going over the crime scene photos, and--”

“Tony,” Steve says, “it’s seven in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, brow furrowing. “Close the door, make some coffee. It’s fucking cold outside, Steve. Come on.”

Steve hesitates for a second and then shuts the door. If Tony wants to start the day early, that’s fine. It’s not like Steve takes much time to get ready anyway.

Although he probably would’ve showered and put on a shirt if he knew Tony was coming over.

What happened last night, the thing Steve shouldn’t have said, seems to have disappeared with all the other things that happen when Tony drinks. Tony grins at him over the rim of his coffee cup and then presses the folder into Steve’s bare chest until he takes it.

“He wants us to catch him,” he says. “I think. Or he’s trying to murder us. Kind of exciting either way, right? Nice to get some attention, pre-arrest. I, personally, am very flattered.”

Steve flips open the folder, gets one good look of the most recent horror show, and then shuts it again. “Not before coffee,” he says. “Jesus, Tony. You could’ve warned me.”

“It’s the hands,” Tony says, helpfully. “I think this is why he cuts them off sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, with a heavy exhale. “Okay. Coffee first.”

Shirt first. Steve starts the coffeemaker and then heads into his bedroom, comes back to find Tony eating yesterday’s leftovers, staring pensively at the crime scene photos while he lifts noodles into his mouth.

“Oh,” Tony says, looking up with a frown. “You didn’t have to get dressed for me. That view was making my whole morning, Rogers.”

Steve hesitates. There’s a weird moment between them, when Tony’s chewing his way through Steve’s day-old takeout and Steve’s just staring, wrong-footed and confused, still a little dazed from sleep.

“I only hit on you when I’m drunk, cuz I figure it’ll hurt less,” Tony tells him, helpfully, “when you punch me in the face.”

“I wouldn’t—Jesus, Tony.” Steve is legitimately horrified. “I wouldn’t punch you in the face.”

“No, I know that. I meant punch me in the face emotionally. I know you wouldn’t actually--- you’re a good guy, Steve. Good, nice. Brilliant. Perfect.” Tony makes a face like it physically pains him to say these things out loud. “You deserve a better partner than me. I know Fury paired us up cuz he thought you’d keep me out of trouble, but--”

Steve crowds him back against the kitchen island, curls his hand around Tony’s wrist and pulls the fork, with all its hanging noodles, away from Tony’s mouth.

“Um,” Tony says, wide-eyed and blinking. “Were you gonna eat those? Is--”

Tony tastes like coffee and sesame noodles. He’s frozen for three full seconds, mouth still curled in the shape of whatever word he was working on, and then he unfreezes, leans in and kisses back, makes a soft, pleased noise in the back of his throat that sounds exactly like something that’s going to make Steve late for work.

The kiss breaks when Tony drops his coffee cup, and the coffee splatters all over Steve’s kitchen floor.

“Shit,” Tony says. His face contorts for a second, like it wants to take a stab at being mortified, but then relaxes into the single smuggest grin Steve’s ever seen on his face. “Damn, Rogers,” he says. “You have a crush?”

Steve snorts as he drops a kitchen towel on the floor, kicks it at the growing flood of coffee. “Yeah, which one of us dropped their coffee, Tony?”

“You kissed me so stupid my hands stopped working,” Tony says. He sounds entirely too enthused about that. When Steve glances up at him, Tony’s looking at him with an intense, hungry focus that Steve’s only ever seen him direct at new cases and fresh coffee.

Steve can feel himself start to blush, but he can’t help smiling back. “Jesus, Tony,” he says, “we’ve gotta get to work.”

Tony smirks at him, mischief sparking in his eyes. Steve hasn’t seen that look in weeks. He tips his head back, eyeing Steve with a slow, thoughtful look that Steve can already tell is going to cause problems in the future, and then, slowly, begrudgingly, he nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “Alright. Work first, dinner after?”

Steve blinks. The coffee has spread across the floor, and he should really do something about that. “Work first,” he agrees, and then leans in and kisses Tony again, thorough and careful and mindful of the takeout precariously located right next to Tony’s elbow. “Dinner after.”

“Jesus, Rogers,” Tony says, a little breathless. “Why don’t we take a long lunch?”

“Work,” Steve repeats, as he finally crouches down and starts wiping up the coffee.

“I’ve got a new witness,” Tony says, kneeling to help. “And she says she saw something suspicious in the back of my car. So, I figure, during lunch, we check it out.”

Steve is both horrified and charmed that Tony apparently thinks he’s still young enough to fool around in someone’s backseat in the middle of the day. “No, Tony.”

“Steven,” Tony says, very seriously, “as servants of the public, we are required to diligently and exhaustively check up on all possible tips.”

Steve curls his hand around Tony’s chin, tips his face up, and kisses him again, because it’s seven in the morning, and Tony’s sober, and he’s still hitting on him anyway. He doesn’t know how anyone could expect him to keep his hands to himself.

“If I’m giving up my lunch break,” Steve tells him, just as seriously, “it sure as hell better be for more than the tip.”

Tony’s goes lax with surprise and then he laughs, sharp and bright. He laughs for the first time in weeks, and it settles into Steve’s chest like the first warm day after winter, feels like something frozen inside him has finally started to melt.

[trans-shuichisaihara]

fake it till (we) make it - Scene 1

the celebrity fake dating oumota au I started last month or smth and finally picked up again. I really love this au so uhh hopefully y’all do too! coughs bc it’s probably a slow burn and i have too many of those

(read on AO3)

Kaito Momota, up-and-coming actor newly known for his roles in various sci-fi films, has a problem. Said problem comes in the form of his frequent costar ringing insistently on his door at 2am.

“What the fuck,” is all his tired mind can create to greet him with. If Kokichi minds, he doesn’t show it, a wild grin filling his face.

“Good morning, Kaito!”

“It’s the middle of the night, this better be real fuckin’ important.” A headache is already starting to form right behind his eyes, so he really isn’t in the mood for-

“I’m bored; you should be a good host and entertain me!”

Three seconds later, Kaito slams the door in his face.

“Hey! Kaito! C’mooon!” The relief from his voice being muffled only lasts a matter of seconds, as Kokichi goes back to ringing the doorbell rapidly.

“Fine,” he groans, throwing the door back open, “Get in here before I call someone to get rid of you.”

He wastes no time obeying, hurrying past Kaito and straight to the living room, vaulting over and onto the couch.

He sighs, closing the door and massaging his aching head. “You could at least take off your shoes, asshole.”

“I’m good,” he cheekily replies, resting said shoes on the arm of the couch, “Come sit over here.” He pats the seat next to him. Kaito shakes his head and opts to sit on the opposite end.

“Are you gonna explain why the hell you’re awake at 2 in the morning or should I just assume you’re going out of your way to bother me?”

He hums in response, before his expression changes to a pout. “My manager wants me to change my sleep schedule so we can get some night scenes out of the way. But no one else is ever awake at this time of night unless they’re completely smashed.”

Kaito pinches his nose; what was Kokichi starring in again? He himself isn’t doing anything currently, waiting for preparations for the next film to wrap up. “Why don’t you go bother Miu then? She supposedly never sleeps.”

“She sleeps weird hours, but she’s in France with Kaede right now.”

Oh, yeah, that’s right. “Ugh, call her or text her or something then; it’s like normal morning hours there.”

“No thanks,” Kokichi declines, kicking off his shoes, “I don’t want to interrupt her honeymoon.”

He furrows his brows at his word choice; they’re there for Kaede’s piano concerts, right? Well, whatever. “Why don’t you go bother-” Fuck, who could he send Kokichi off to? He couldn’t bother Shuichi or Maki with him, and all their other mutual friends either expressed annoyance with him or didn’t stand up to him when he was being like this. Dammit. “... Fine, whatever, guess you can be my problem for tonight.”

It has to be illegal for him to look so happy at being the source of someone’s sleep deprivation. “Aw, I knew you’d come around. No one can resist me.” Fucking spoiled brat.

“Just find some way to entertain yourself; I got plenty of shit lying around. I'm goin' back to sleep.” He stands, waving him off, but doesn’t get far before Kokichi lunges forward and grabs his wrist.

“I have a huge Lego Star Destroyer in my car and if you don’t help me build it I’ll egg your house.”

... Well, how could he say no to that? “Dude, you act as if building that would be a bad thing.”

He hums in response, releasing Kaito and tossing his keys up to him without warning. He catches it midair, nearly missing the sly smirk that crosses Kokichi’s face. “You’ll see~!”

The box isn’t that big, but it’s heavier than he expected it to be. Not anything he can’t handle, but it still causes him some trouble getting it through the door, determined to be as difficult as its owner. He becomes very familiar with information on the side of the box as he’s bringing it in; 3152 pieces, recommended for ages 16 and up.

Looks like Kokichi would have to sit out, haha.

Relaying that joke to him when he finally sets it down in the living room earns him a huff and an annoyed shout reminding him that they’re the same age. Geez, it isn't Kaito’s fault he looks nothing like a 23 year old. He doesn't look a day over 15, and that's just a fact.

“So, why do you even have this? Don't tell me you bought it just to bribe me,” he asks as they pull out the bags of pieces from the box, Kokichi flipping through the first few pages.

“No way, it's just something I impulse bought last Christmas and never got around to building. I remembered it while I was sitting around bored and hey, you're the residential space freak.” He grabs the baggie labeled “1” from Kaito’s pile, tearing it open with more force than necessary.

“Hey, careful! You’ll lose pieces like that!”

“Relax, it's the first bag, and your house is surprisingly clean. Seriously, do you even live here?”

Kaito feels a bit offended at that. “What does that mean?! You think I live like a slob or somethin’?!”

“Uh, yeah? Your dressing room is always a mess.” He pauses. “Do you keep the mess in your bedroom then?” He gives him a teasing wink as he begins snapping pieces together.

“My room’s clean too, asshole. It's not hard to keep a clean house.”

“I bet it is, when you own literally nothing.” He shakes his head. “I was expecting collectables and spaceship models everywhere.”

Well... He does have those, but they're in his study where he can see them while he works out. “What, so are you saying you own a bunch of junk then?” He did say that he impulsively bought this.

Kokichi's face goes flat for a moment, before snapping back into a grin. “Yep! You caught me, I'm a huuuuge hoarder!” And a huge liar; anyone who works with him for even five minutes knows that.

“Yeah, sure.” Maybe he is, maybe he isn't. He can't judge a house he's never seen. Which begs the question- “Where the hell do you even live?”

“I wonder,” he answers with a non-answer, flipping to the next page. Kaito shakes his head, unsurprised.

After he grabs one of the other instruction booklets and his own bag of pieces - pushing Kokichi’s scattered pieces towards him to prevent mixing - the two of them work in silence for a long while. Kaito starts to yawn as he flips through the seemingly endless instructions, blurry vision causing him to keep misreading the pictures and forcing him to frequently tear apart sections of his progress.

“You're really bad at this,” Kokichi comments as he finally finishes his booklet, standing up and stretching.

“Fuck you, I'm doing my best on three hours of sleep.”

“Hmm, should've gone to bed earlier. Besides, I only got four and I'm perfectly fine.” Despite his words, the next sound to leave his mouth is a poorly disguised yawn. “Anyway, I'm gonna raid your pantry as punishment for being so slow.”

Ughhh. “Good luck finding anything, I haven't gone grocery shopping recently.”

There's a long pause as Kokichi inspects the food situation for himself. He returns a minute later with a tupperware container. “How are you alive?”

“Meal prep and tons of leftovers.” He hauls himself up with a low groan, before walking over and taking the container from him. “Don't eat this; it's my lunch for tomorrow.”

Kokichi sticks his tongue out at him. “Whatever, I didn't want your gross... whatever that is.” He huffs, turning back into the kitchen to poke around.

Kaito sighs. “Want me to order a pizza?” That's a better option than him getting into the little food that remains.

He perks up, closing the barren freezer. “I supposeee,” he drawls, pretending to be disinterested.

“What toppings?” He pulls up a list of nearby pizza places, hoping one of them would deliver at almost 3:30am. Closes at 3am, closes at 2am, midnight... Damn.

“None pizza with left beef, obviously.”

“C’mon Kokichi, a serious answer please.”

“Fine, pineapple with anchovies.”

“Alright, no take backs,” he answers, still squinting at his phone to find a place.

Kokichi sighs after a minute of unsuccessful searching. “Gimme that, I know a place.” Before he can object, his phone is in his hands and the pizza is ordered, along with some mystery combo items.

Afterwards, the phone is returned to him unharmed, thankfully. “It’s gonna be 34 dollars, spaceman.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah yeah, lemme go find my wallet.” He shakes his head and makes the mistake of leaving Kokichi alone unattended downstairs.

By the time he digs his wallet out of his nightstand and takes a quick piss, the doorbell rings. He splashes some water on his face to help keep himself awake, hurrying down the stairs as Kokichi’s opening the door.

“Thank you very much! Sorry, no autographs, but you can get one from Kaito if you want.” He hurries past Kaito and away from the delivery girl, a pile of boxed food in his arms.

Kaito sighs as he pulls a 50 out of his wallet. “Need me to sign anything? And keep the change, it’s fuck o’clock in the morning, I know.” Once he’s signed in three separate places aside from the receipt, she finally leaves, letting him turn his attention back to Kokichi.

“Hey, what’s your Netflix password?” He immediately asks once the door’s closed. “I tried a bunch of stupid space references but it’s not working.”

“Like hell I’ll tell you that, use your own.” He plopped himself back down at the abandoned Legos, trying to regain focus.

“I don’t have oneeee,” he whines in response, dropping the controller down onto the floor as he flops onto his side. Kaito resists sighing again and picks it up, turning the console off, ignoring Kokichi’s continued mumbled whines.

They sit in silence for a few long moments before Kaito realizes that something’s off with the Legos. “Hey, where the hell’d all my small gray pieces go?”

He shoots Kokichi a look, and he receives a toothy smile in response. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll step on them at some point!”

He scowls - like hell he will. “Seriously, do you want us to build this or not? If we lose a shit ton of pieces right off the bat, that’s not happening.”

“I mean...” Kokichi sat up, observing his nails for a moment before turning to the pizza box next to him and opening it. “I’m pretty bored with it now. I’m trying to think of a better game to play, since Netflix and chill is out of the question.”

He coughs. “Shuddit. Fuck, you’re such a pain.” He shakes his head and starts to pick up the pieces, taking the complete piece and the almost finished one to the empty bookshelf he’s been meaning to fill in the corner of the room. Once he’s finished, Kokichi beckons him back over, shoving a paper plate with a slice on it into his hands. He eats it, only because he paid for it and he’s hungry from sleep deprivation.

It’s not too bad, honestly.

“Hmmm, I wanna take a selfie...” Kokichi thinks aloud, leaning his full body weight of literally nothing against Kaito as he pulls out his phone and opens the camera app.

“Seriously?! I’m trying to eat!”

“Just one, promise! Say pineapple!” The circular button takes their picture silently, unlike paparazzi cameras. He lets Kaito approve of it before returning to his previous position.

“Satisfied? Will you let me sleep and not make a mess if I go back to bed?” Kaito asks after the pizza and half the breadsticks are gone, yawning again.

“Only if you answer my question.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Shoot.”

“What do you think about fake dating? Specifically, me ‘n’ you?”

His question is answered by him coughing to avoid choking on his own spit.

[the-tales-of-horror]

We found my cousins "time" journal

Original Link By fknmadhed

Some days I get around slower than others... I don't even realise until I'm where I've gotta be and notice it took way longer than it should have.. I always wonder about that, often leaving the house without checking the time no matter how many times it happens to me, but it's an off and on thing and when I get in from work and it's maybe 2 hours later than I'm usually home I take it as it is. We rely on time so heavily that when it flys by it's so easy to just accept that maybe you weren't paying attention. So with that out of the way, I'm documenting times I leave and arrive by how long it takes to walk or drive.

3rd June, 8:47am - To work Arrived at 9:04am Normal day - This seems silly today

3rd June, 8:30pm - Heading home Arrived home at 9:56pm I went to the store, got some food for the night but I didn't buy much, nobody was really about so I was pretty much in and out. I don't really understand what took me so long, what would usually take me maybe 30 minutes has taken me an hour and a half... honestly it could've been anything I just need to get some food in me and to sleep.

10:31pm I'm still up, the tv's been acting pretty weird. I find that tv has a calming presence that helps put me to sleep.. though not tonight for god knows what reason, everytime I've started to drop off I'm being awoken by static harshly emanating from the TV.

Really I'm in two minds about what's happening with the time and all that, on one hand it's all just silly stuff that can be put down to my own mistakes or Whatever, but on the other hand there's just this voice going on in the back of my head telling me that it's not just that.

4th June - 8:45am Work Arrived at 9:06 Long day today, weird dreams last night. Probably will forget about all this by the end of the week

Left work at 9pm, arrived home at 11:32pm I didn't do anything. I didn't go to the store or clean up my desk, I checked the time at work, wrote it down and drove home. I'm sitting in my car still writing this, how did it take me over 2 hours to get home. How the fuck... I was driving the whole time, it felt like any normal journey driving at the same normal speeds. I don't want to sleep.. I even checked the time on my TV and just About everything I could check the time on incase my watch had messed up but nope. No such luck. The static is visible on the TV tonight, but the sound is different to how I remember it but my memories clearly fucked so I ain't even bothering I just turned it off.

5th June 11am I got to sleep in for a while, I had a crazy vivid dream last night after rolling around for a long while and finally slipping into a half slumber. What I remember from the dream is pure darkness, no color to the sky, no stars or moon or sun... just nothing. Like the sky was the back of a creature that had decided to walk away.

This thing has turned into more of a diary at this point but the dream felt related to what's been going on. 8th June, 12:16pm Nothing had happened for a while but then I was late to work today, I left the same time as i do every morning around 8:45am. I arrived at work for after 10. I lost an hour and I was aware of the entire journey. How does that even happen?

10:27pm So I've been thinking about this all day. like what it could be. My mind jumps between alzheimers and blackouts... neither sounding particularly exciting. But then right now I just looked it up online and there's this big thing around missing/losing time and how it might be related to aliens. Yeah. Right. Would take that possibility over the prospect of an untreated medical condition. 9th June, 1:15am Theres police lights outside I think. Kinda strange that there's not a single sound coming from the street but fuck it. Pretty annoyed by the fact that it woke me up and writing in this seems to get everything from the day out of my head, makes it easier to fall asleep.

9th June, left 8:45am and got in for 9:10am I'm dreading checking the time, when I close my eyes it's just numbers, it's all that I'm thinking about. I can't put it off and it's messing with how much work I'm doing. I'm putting this away for a while, my minds just fucking with me.

20th June I've been to see a doctor, there's no sign of anything that could be causing the memory loss or whatever it is. I went to be told that maybe my clocks wrong and Out of fear of sounding strange I agreed. I've checked just about every clock I've seen to double check on the days it has fucked with me. And also, I had another one of those dreams last night, darkness then lights and static like in the real world harshly vibrating my mind until it becomes unbearable, I woke up to static on the television and put it down to that. First time in my damn life I've had a recurring dream that I'm able to remember... still can't get the numbers out of my head.

22nd June, 1:16am Half in that same dream, I woke up to what felt like cold elongated fingers pulling me over to the other side of my bed and in the midst of rolling I opened my eyes to nothing but the damn blue lights outside my window again. I just had a look around my room cuz that shit gave me chills and after looking Until my heart was back to a normal pace I put it down to sleep paralysis or some shit like that, but then I just looked outside and it's definitely not a police car. There's three lights floating above the houses just across from me, I can just about make a dark shape out but it blends so well with the night sky that I don't know where it starts and where it ends. So needless to say my hearts racing faster than it was and I'm thinking about aliens like it's a possibility. I'm not gonna sleep again tonight, I'm gonna sit downstairs and wait it out.

So, I just got down and it's 3:40am What the fuck is happening to me

25th June I'm seeing little shapes when I move my eyes today, like something running directly across my vision, so much so That on my way to the store I tripped and cut my ankle. It's kinda pulsating right now especially when I see this weird fucking thing in my eyes...

26th June, 2am-ish I got woken up again, no dreams just darkness and the sensation of cold fingers almost as if they're allowing me to wake up. I scratched at my cut a little, turned the light on and there's these weird little fibres in my nails.. so I looked at where I'd scratched the cut and it's just covered in these strange fibres, it hasn't been uncovered since I was able to put a band aid on and it definitely wasn't like this then.

27th June It's worse, time has skipped I don't know how many times today. My cut is worse, it looks infected but it feels fine. The fibres haven't cleared up I've cleaned it repeatedly. I'm considering seeing a doctor but it always feels like a waste of time.

So I looked it up online, apparently I'm not the only one. It's something that seems to be related to Lyme disease, but I've never been latched on to by a tick, just never. I've not had any of the symptoms, just these weird fibres and the only explanation of what it could be are by dudes on YouTube with crazy eyes and the occasional little twitch or some shit.

Honestly is it just me, I wonder all the time if I'm the only one that constantly feels so close to death, like I'm not gonna live until I'm 20 until I made it, then it became 30 and I'm just over thinking this shit. I don't have records of what was in the sky the night of the blue lights, nothing physical has been Touching me, maybe the fibres are just coming from my clothes or whatever.. the weird thing in my eye is only there when I move it fast enough but it seems to be doing it far more spaced out than that first day. I think maybe I'm okay, I haven't been paying attention to the time so much, I've felt like it's just making me go insane.

2nd July Dreams again, lights again, the fibres are spreading inside of my skin I can feel it... I don't think they're fibres anymore though they're wriggling I think I can see movement

3rd July I definitely saw my skin move, my eyes jolted as I sat still too, like that effect in Fight Club where everything moves as the camera stays still. It made me super dizzy and grew until I passed out Waking up at around 11pm, which means I was out for a good 12 hours... waking up exhausted and shivery, my skin crawling worse than it has, a lot of the vision in my left eye is being blocked but only in movement. When I keep it still I see through whatever it is.

I feel like I'm dying. As I write this I'm giving into that thought. My hearts beating faster than it ever has, my bones ache, my fingers slowly forgetting how to type and my mind slowly forgetting where it is that I am.

4th July I woke up Fine The lights again, but they give me comfort now

5th July I do not see the point of this anymore I'm fine. The time does not skip anymore. I will work today.

And that's where it ends. Incase you're wondering this was my cousins 'time' journal let's call it. A few weeks ago he started acting strangely, the whole family had noticed and he opened up to me about the fibres and the weird dreams and time disappearing, I brushed it off and didn't tell anybody because it was completely out of character and I wasn't in it to worry anybody so I tried to get him help but he refused, frustrated by the doctors of the past I presumed. But I also suspected some part of him was enjoying all of this... now when he comes to our house he stares at things, he answers everything bluntly and cold with very few inflections to his usually colorful accent... he never sits down, he doesn't clear his throat or cough or sneeze I haven't seen him yawn, he hasn't cuddled me. He's a completely different person and I need answers about what has happened to my cousin... he's been making it clear that he wants to babysit my children and last month I wouldn't have even second guessed it. But he's lifeless.. he stares through me and talks at me, he doesn't respond emotionally and his skin is so cold. I watched him stare into my child's bed and replicate the nonsensical sounds he makes when trying to form sentences(being only just a year). I need answers, because if I hadn't heard what I thought was my son speaking that night through the baby monitor I may have not checked.. none of it is right. None of it makes sense. So I come to you for the answers I need and to share my story without everybody thinking I'm going fucking crazy. Because I'm scared that I am, especially after I felt the cold fingers he described Pull me over and wake me up last night.

[such-an-almighty-sound]

once again it is 2am and i am finishing writing this up. all of my usual content warnings apply. sorry if you’re on mobile, i’ve put this behind a readmore but it’s fucking long

you should probably read this post first

you have a nightmare. 

it is somewhere in traumasummer before you began treatment. it is late at night and your mother has been trying to force feed you herself. there is a plate on the table between you that you two have been fighting over for hours. 

it occurs to you that you are not in your body. you are a spectator standing behind your mother’s chair, facing your younger self. there is a deadening between you two, as though she is merely a tracing. a kind of offcenter transparency that doesn’t overlay your body. not completely. 

she has broken down and is eating. a violent snarling mess of tears, making the violent most of her production so she can go to sleep. coughing and choking and spitting. she is having trouble swallowing, her saliva pooling in her jaw. hands and hair and angry angry bones. the ac chugs indifferently in the corner.

your mother has turned her head just a little away, just for a moment and your younger self notices and retaliates, shoving the plate and utensils aside.

you know what, your younger self snarls. it’s not like this really matters in the end. this WON’T FIX ME. i just haven’t found my exit yet-

her victory is finite as your mother grabs her by the wrist and yanks her forward and says what the fuck does that mean are you puking [SHAKE] is that a threat ANSWER ME! [BIRTH NAME]! [SHAKE]

there is a moment stretched taut and then the vindictive façade on her (your) face shatters and you hear your mother saying i’m sorry! i’m so sorry did i hurt you, let me go get you some ice her voice cracking as younger self begins to scream

I DON’T WANT ANY ICE, I WANT TO GO TO BED

the scene changes and solidifies: several months have gone by and you are watching yourself curled up in an angry ball, slamming her head repeatedly into the floorlevel kitchen cabinets. her eyes are foggy, unfocused, but her motion is unflinching. 

you are sitting on a metal table in a paper gown and a doctor is pushing your arms against the wall and saying my you’re still quite strong aren’t you

you are in the hospital pissing with the bathroom door open and a nurse, tasked with watching you, tapping his pen impatiently against your wheelchair. you stare at him unblinking and throw your heart monitor into the wall.

you have been in the hospital for over a week and for the first time have to eat with someone else. his name is t****** and he is eleven. he is here for the same reason you are. he’s very nervous doctor m is saying. but you will be nice to him, no? she peers unflinchingly at your face and says no you wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you? 

you are in the clinic and are being made to drink your salad dressing for the first time. the nine other patients at the table are studiously not looking at you and in every line of their profiles you read a mixture of embarrassment and dread and thank god thank god it’s not me.

you are in the dtu and everyone is silent except for one girl who is sobbing and rocking back and forth as the doctors explain that they cannot help her and she will be transferred to a residential care facility three states away within 24 hours. it is that girl’s fifteenth birthday.

you are kneeling on the floor of the bathroom and there is blood on your hands and between your legs and in your socks and your shoes and on the floor and through the door you can hear laurie saying talk to me, talk to me, [birthname] this is gonna be okay, talk to me

you are showering with the light turned off and it is quiet and dark and there is nothing but warm water raining down on you

you are

you are on your hands and knees in the fog. you are alone, for once. silent mist in every direction, unaltering and unspecific.

you begin to walk, stumbling a little. although you know you are not awake, this dimension feels unarguably real. the fog has dampened your shirt, teases fuzzy loops out of your hair. your legs hurt. if you close your eyes and focus on these sensations then this could just be one of your many walks on the coast. the scenery is often quite similar to this, there are many days when you cannot see ten paces ahead of yourself.

you walk and walk. blindly, thinking about times in your youth when you would rise before dawn and walk in a frigid low tide, trawling through driftwood and shells and stones, and when you got home your grandmother would be waiting with tea and jambar cookies, or hot chocolate sometimes and you would wrap up and slowly draw the blueness from your bones

when your foot strikes solid, you do not immediately open your eyes thinking: this golden light could be the golden light of that kitchen, i will open my eyes and there will be a warm sweater and a fire being laid and chai cooking on the back of the stove

you open your eyes and see a square foot of doormat complete with backdoor which opens and florence who says hello bucky why don’t you come in

the solid doorway is residing in an infrastructure of fog, so much so that you expect it to bend under your weight as you carefully step inside. florence snaps the stormdoor shut behind you 

and you are in that kitchen, the kitchen of your childhood summers, all white speckled linoleum and worn-clean fixtures. but it is strangely bare and austere, the counters empty, smelling of cleaner and hot water. although you just stepped in from featureless fog, it appears to be night as you look out of the kitchen windows.

won’t you sit with me? water’s boiling.

you follow her through into the main room; as you look around it is not completely as you remember, a facsimile with details clumsily blurred out: a gap where a door should be replaced by slubbed shadow, picture frames that hang empty on the shadowy walls. 

two of the restaurant-wear mugs your grandmother uses for teatime wait on the table. 

were you expecting me here?

you were already thinking about somewhere you’d like to be, and it’s easier to build off of that than to have to come up with a location all on my own and convince you that you want to be there.

okay, you say, but i don’t really want to be here. 

florence gives you a tolerant look. you’re overdue for this, my darling. can you tell me anything about how you’re feeling after talking to the orthopedist?

there is a stack of photographs on the empty mantlepiece. why are these here? you ask instead of answering, rifling through them with uncherishing haste.

bucky…

no! why are these here? you are beginning to feel angry instead of merely annoyed, your fingers growing rougher and rougher

i don’t know. i don’t come up with everything that’s in here. show me which ones they are. florence is tilting her head as though she doesn’t know what you hold. you turn and slap the pictures on the table, splaying them out. she looks through them calmly, smoothing corners you have bent.

maybe you’re thinking about them, too? why don’t you tell me? her voice is soft, coaxing

you know what, don’t bother. i’ll just get myself some water and leave. in the kitchen, the tap water is warm and while waiting for it to cool you stare out the dark windows, remembering the photos being taken. 

florence follows you in, leans against the doorframe. it can’t have been easy information to receive in remission, she says. it is okay to need to revisit some things. tell me why those pictures?

they never show how sick i was.

i’m sorry? she says.

i wanted to check because the damage was, is so extensive and yet- it doesn’t show. i wanted to see if i looked as sick as that has made me. and they don’t look like /anything/. i remember them being taken, i remember what i was thinking! you take a breath, try to calm yourself. your next words waver coming out

i was jumping compulsively on the beach and my dad started taking photos of me. and my parents used them on their christmas cards that year! one hung on the wall of my house until i took it down.. i couldn’t stop jumping! i snuck out of the house to compulsively run that night. and it doesn’t show! my parents took so many photos of me when i was sick and they saved them all and in all of them it doesn’t look that bad! not as bad as i remember, not as bad as ‘almost killed you!’

you can drown, florence says, in less than three inches of water.

strength does not matter. endurance does not matter. you can look and look and look at that water, and you can call it whatever you want. but there are still things that the body cannot withstand.

i just wasn’t that far gone. it wasn’t that fucking hard

bucky, she says and you turn and fumble the wet mug which smashes to pieces on the linoleum between your feet.

you stand there shaking with your hands over your face, willing yourself not to cry.

it’s alright. florence bends down and begins scooping the shards together. you stare at her bent head and listen to your breaths shudder in out in out and in a moment’s decision you cannot explain you grab her mug from the counter and throw it across the room

china shards and tea splatter over the floor.

florence freezes, bent, and you shout at her: stop being so calm! i know you can be angry, i’ve seen it! i’ve seen it!

i fucking hate sitting here and having you talk me down, pretending it’s gonna be the same when i wake up, that the rest of the world will have adjusted to not seeing me as an idiot girl

bucky, she says again, moving nearer to you and you yank the cabinet open and begin throwing out dishes from your childhood: milk glasses bowls plates every single tea mug shattering on the floor and amid the colossal noise you are screaming

i know you’re in my way, i know you can let me get to her!

bucky, florence says, angry now, you do not get to harm your younger self. 

i want to put her eyes out with my hands! you scream. what do i wait for? when does this end? what further chance do i give? i get no relief! there is nothing else i want!

i know it’s not fair! florence is insistent, angry, pleading: believe me, i am abundantly acquainted with unfairness- you have a very limited scope where you can make things better but you have AMPLE room in which to make them worse. PLEASE take that into account- 

she is eyeing you up as though to grab you and you begin throwing out drawers, spilling silverware in great jangling arcs in her path

please WHAT? you interrupt. i have paid- i AM paying out the nose for the decisions of a person i don’t remember being. FOUR YEARS since “physical remission” and i’m STILL discovering the extent of the damage of something that i was supposed to heal from. my muscular system’s fucked. i live with pain day in and day out and i’m fucking tired. 

as you look for the next thing to throw florence steps across the mess and plucks your hands out of the air, holding your wrists like a vice. you can be as angry as you want but you will not break me down into a form that does not care.

oh you always take her side! you spit. you are backed into the counter, florence too close in your face. my past already belongs to her, i suppose my future should too?

you have divided yourself apart. and i care for every bit of it. there is no self you can break into that is undefendable

i’m sure that here is. you pull hard but she is using her height against you and you cannot get your wrists free

you don’t get to make these decisions about who i care for! that is not why i am here! florence says and you shove her; she stumbles and you yank free and throw the dish soap at her. she bats it aside and it cracks against the counter. you flinch; she is stronger than you.

you scream in frustration; florence slams her hands down on the countertop making the saucers in the cabinet shake and screams back. the sound shudders in her throat, guttural and aching. 

you know what it is? you miss her! florence grabs you by the biceps and pulls you forward, too close again. your feet skid on china shards. you miss that girl and you are too prideful to admit it!

no! you spit. i miss not being caught in this loop! i miss not collecting damage from years ago. i miss not being able to move on.

i don’t believe you. she is steely,  so close and so angry that there is nowhere else for you to look.

oh, you don’t? you gasp

this stigma is eating me alive!

i was never taught in inpatient that ano/rexia was a chronic illness and now that i’m out it’s seen as a vanity diagnosis in the only community available to me! i was hoping, no I WANTED something else to be wrong so i could have something to back up against. it’s one thing when abled people think you’re lying and ANOTHER thing when everyone else does too! where is my community? where is my support? with the proanas and the thins/po blogs?

i second guess myself every time i try to talk about what happened to me. my recovery is not mine.

i bet you someday i am gonna die and i am gonna die from this. i’ve been symptomatic since i was twelve, long before diagnosis and hospitals and therapy. there is no clean slate. there is no reset and someday i am going to die from it. endocrine damage, brain damage, muscular damage. damage to my teeth, scars that won’t heal! i don’t know how to be an adult and not be sick. i don’t remember what it feels like to not have this in my head! there is nothing i am anymore that is not built on sickness! and yet, it is not enough. there is nowhere i can be. this disease has turned me inhuman. i feel no cold, i feel no hunger, and every moment of it purgatory so forgive me if i am angry.

florence narrows her eyes, her mouth a mean hard line. fine. she drops her hands from you

fine? you echo.

then i want to grieve with you. or mourn, whatever it is that you come to, if reconciliation is not an option. this decision is violent and ugly and it must hurt. and as with things that hurt, it must be mourned.

you glare at her with your chin up. the whole kitchen seems to be shaking, the walls bulging and shifting with your distress.

but listen to me, she says, softly. you have another choice. you can make another choice. she touches the side of your face gently, so gently that you relax into it, look her dead in the eyes 

ha!

you rip away from her, too late- she lets her hand fall and leans against the counter, smirking.

you are so full of hurt you are aching with it! how could you cut off your love? you could no more cut her off than you could cut off your own leg! you were formed from her trauma, there is no one without the other!  you know what i think the hardest thing is? she was no pirahna. she hurt, yes. you, she, was scared and angry and mean perhaps. but human. human and sick and under a undue, undeserved amount of pain for a young person. that is the hard and soft of it. it is ACTIVELY more difficult for you to pretend otherwise, and yet, you do!

i don’t understand you. love is a wonderful nourishing thing but you do not love her and you do not love yourself! you have a diagnosis, make it worth something!

she is not mine! you gasp

i am sorry this upsets you so much. she shakes her head. but bucky- you have always been terrible at lying. 

you have begun to sob angrily. i have shed names i have shed selves i have dumped and drowned and run away and there is nothing i can do. i have failed over and over and i have nothing to offer. florence i don’t- i don’t-

i just want to be in my body and feel like i am home.

florence sighs gustily, her anger receding into a kind of frustrated tiredness. she holds you at arms length and tugs down your hands so she can see your naked face.

okay. bucky, do you remember the feeling you would get when you were little- being locked in the basement for some disobedience? you would be so scared, it was dark and creaked and smelled like mildew, and the light switch was right there above you on the wall, if you stood up and reached you could turn it on, but no matter how long you were in there or how many times you hd been before, you just couldn’t. couldn’t will yourself to. you could’t even touch the doorknob. and so you would sit there frozen in the dark.

if you are so angry, so resolute, why do still feel as though you were in that basement? you know it and i do.

there is so much desolation you have come back from. it will resolve.

you cry so hard you can’t focus. everything floods away, like a strange tide, like closing your eyes while swinging: there is nothing at all for a moment and then you go back and the sound and the muffled darkness resumes around you. you keep going away.

somewhere florence is singing to you.

she’s holding onto you, rocking from foot to foot, your face in her front.

the noise you are making feels like it surrounds you and goes on forever, but you perceive it as somehow separate, as though you have relinquished control on your lungs and mouth and diaphragm. how many times has this been, you wonder, with her hand on the back of your neck and her holding you- but you don’t ever hold onto her back. uncoordinatedly, you fling your arms around her waist and she makes a heavy noise and rocks back on her feet. but her hand presses more firmly into your back and her hair falls over you.

you turn over and open your eyes; you are still in the house in the other place, but the light is pale and the morning feels softer. you can feel her jeans against your cheek and the worn-plush upholstery of the couch and the smell of the skin on the inside of her arm

your head in the crook of her arm your head in the crook of her arm your head in the crook of her arm

you meet florence’s eyes somewhat guiltily and she smiles crookedly. you know, at first i thought i would just wrap you up in the duvet cover and sit on the floor, but i was worried you would hurt yourself. you were very upset. and this turned out to be just fine. the clink of setting a mug down; her eyes intent on you. her fingers follow a tangled lock of your hair and smooth it. she is excruciatingly gentle.

i think it is important to make up for the pain. especially with this new insight to your diagnosis

it’s like when you’re a baby- and no, my darling, I don’t mean that pejoratively -your mind shrinks down to this tiny pinpoint as you panic and you can’t see anything outside of that filter. all you can do is scream and lash out and so you need to be soothed on that primal level as well-  on another topic, i think that is why casual touch bothers you so. it reminds you of that loss of control, rather than the soothing out of it. something still worth working on.

she pauses, looks down at you. you know, it’s not all carnage and wasted days. you did regain things, many of which you continue to retain. such as, you’re wonderfully warm. you smell different now. your hair and nails have grown back and are strong. and you’re taller. and still very stubborn.

she winks, stretches her legs. come. i want to make you something to drink and have you enjoy it this time.

it is as though your tantrum of the previous night had never happened. the rooms are still and chock full of a dense gold light. the kitchen floor is clean, linoleum absent of pottery shards. the counters gleam. and as you open the cabinet: rows of ironstone restaurant-wear mugs, unchipped and soothingly stained.

florence pours hot water into a mug, makes you tea and stirs the honey in herself, her long fingers wrapped deftly around the spoon while your own aching hands lie as heavy and dextrous on the table as two clenched stones. 

clink of cup on wood. there. it’s all alright. 

she puts your hand between her own and squeezes it.

you punish yourself far too much for not having done something wrong. you aren’t naughty. there’s no morality to being sick. it’s disease. and there’s no way but through it.

[peanott]

92 Questions

@useless--mind thanks for tagging me bud!! i love doing these even if no one gives a shit

Last:

1. Drink: milk

2. Phone call: with my grandpa

3. Text message: “👀👀👀“

4. Song you listened to: ultra bra - kaunis ja ylpee 

5. Time I cried: cant remember the last time i properly cried (its not even a rare occurrence just doesnt pop into my mind wtf) but my eyes got wet like two hours ago bc my sister sent me silly pics with her baby and was just extraordinarily sweet love her :(

Have You:

 6. Dated someone twice: no

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nope

8. Been cheated on: nah

9. Lost someone special: yeah

10. Been depressed: yes

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: unfortunately................

List Three Favorite Colors:

12. violet

13. baby blue

14. orange mayb

In The Last Year Have You:

15. Made new friends: ive got closer with a few people so kinda? 

16. Fallen out of love: wtf is this love ya keep talkin bout

17. Laughed until you cried: yes

18. Found out someone was talking about you: hahaha yeah 

19. Met someone who changed you: nah

20. Found out who your friends are: in a way? ive not been thinking about this profoundly at all but the way ive perceived some people has strengthened for better and worse which led into new relationship dynamics

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: not on the lips 

General:

22. How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: vast majority

23. Do you want to change your name: noo im used to it but at the same time it sometimes hits me that its ACTUALLY my name (its not even anything special i just have confusing thoughts) so it does keep me on my toes and wont get bored of it 

24. What did you do for your last birthday: I CANT REMEMBER lmao ok i dont think we celebrated it on my actual birthday at all bc it wasnt practical that way but i had my sisters over the day before

25. What time did you wake up: 7am cause i hate myseldf

26. What were you doing last night at midnight: drinking water at my friends so id sober up bc im a fucking idiot pls slap me thrice dont hate me 

27. Name something you can’t wait for: get used to the new school i go to in two days (yea i havent even started yet but i can feel the bricks im shitting for the next month or so)

28. When was the last time you saw your mom: an hour ago?

29. What is the one thing you wish you could change in your life: i wanna be able to enjoy living my life properly and take more risks without worrying all the time  

30. What are you listening to right now: partners in crime part three by the internet

31. Have you talked to a person named Tom: no?

32. Most visited website(s): twitter tumblr youtube how generic

Lost Questions:

33. Mole(s): i have three moles (on my temple, under eye, above eyebrow) that form a triangle i was so ecstatic when i discovered this like two years ago

34. Marks: what kind of?? i mean i have stretch marks one from vaccination but thats it i think

35. Childhood dream: either a fashion designer or a housewife lmao

36. Hair color: mYsTiC vIoLeT according to the hair dye idk its hard to describe a dark mix of brown n purple (and red?)

37. Do you have a crush on someone: no

38. What do you like about yourself: that im quite tolerant and considerate of others, how self-aware i am cause thats the only thing that will keep me sane, i can be funny and not take things that seriously but still have extensive opinions and  thoughts on everything

39. Piercings: both ears x2

40. Blood type: a(+ i think) 

41. Nicknames: vertsi or however you wanna twist it its fine i love it

42. Relationship Status: singley

43. Zodiac Sign: taurus

44. Pronouns: she/her

45. Favorite TV shows: oitnb, lie to me, htgawm, skins, drag race, the get down, black mirror

46. Tattoos: none

47. Right or Left hand: right

48. Surgery: none

49. Hair Dyed A Different Color: ye different variations of brown and purple

50. Vacation: last one was to budapest about three years ago

51. Pair Of Trainers: i stole a pair from my mum idk theyre black and pink or some shit

More Generals:

52. Eating: last time? a croissant 

53. Drinking: nothing rn 

54. I’m about to: finish this and then go to sleep

55. Waiting for: a pleasant surprise 

56. Want: a proper social life

57. Get married: idk i loved my sisters wedding but i wouldnt consider marriage a necessity from a romantic point of view. if i ever get married its probably for the legal stuff and the ceremony will be low-budget and simple 

58. Career: probably gonna do something with psychology or languages

Which Is Better:

59. Hugs or Kisses: hugs ?whats a kiss?

60. Lips or eyes: eyes

61. Short or tall: idc!!! ok im kind of intimidated by tall people i feel like they could crush me in a heartbeat but maybe that adds into my excitement  

62. Older or younger: older for now at least

63. Nice arms or nice stomach: great the two body parts that barely hold any meaning to me good choice 

64. Sensitive or loud: im personally both (ok we gotta debate on the loud part with some people) but i think i value someone that is more likely to understand my own sensitivity so i guess sensitive it is

65. Hook up or relationship: relationship

66. Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker sounds disgusting but i guess that since they would push my hesitant ass to do some stretching out of my comfort zone

Have You Ever:

67. Kissed a stranger: no

68. Had hard liquor: yes

69. Lost glasses/contact lenses: no

70. Turned someone down: kind of 

71. Sex on first date: no

72. Broken someone’s heart: naah

73. Had my heart broken: nope

74. Been arrested: no

75. Cried when someone died: yes

76. Fallen For a Friend: fgjhjh kinda... got over it fast tho cause it was impossible

Do You Believe In:

77. Yourself: No I Do Not Exist We Are Collectively Hallucinating Me 

78. Miracles: not really

79. Love at first sight: i believe you can sense if a person is compatible with you BUT ITS NOT LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT YOU ARE JUST A PERCEPTIVE PERSON 

80. Santa Clause: obvs my Dad

81. Kiss on the first date: i dont think it has anything to do with belief if it feels right at that moment then do it 

82. Angels: um? havent you seen the axe commercial :/ 

83. Aliens: yes!!

Other Random Things:

84. Current Best Friend’s name: mira

85. Eye color: blue and grey or some shit

86. Favorite Movie: black swan

87. Hold an object dear to you: my phone love being a #relatable millennial 

88. Favorite Ice Cream Flavour: vanilla or lemon

89. Least favorite thing: when my clothes fall under my bed and then im too scared to dig them out 

90. Name one thing you could change about the world: no social injustice

91. Current Song stuck in your head: i know by fiona apple

92. Favorite Childhood show: powerpuff girls? idk i liked most of the shows from my childhood

jesus christ sorry this is a hot mess made by  someone who tries to function at 2am using their second language @nuddy-pants do this xx

[troubledwanderingspirit]

Me Too

October 15, 2015, it was a Thursday night. I was 21 years old.

We had hung out once or twice before this. These first times we hung out we drank a beer or two, watched movies, talked a little, kissed for the first time, and did some other messing around. I had also revealed to him that I was a virgin and made it clear that I had certain rules about losing my virginity, number 1 being I would only lose it to someone who was my boyfriend. Was this me trying to get him to commit to me, definitely not, I just wanted him to know he was not going to “go all the way” with me. He had just gotten out of a relationship and he just wanted company, I get it, and he made it clear I was not the only girl he was hanging with in an intimate sense, which I was okay with I enjoyed his friendship and company too.  We knew each other pretty well as we had worked together for quite some time, both managers and we were good work buddies, I had actually really enjoyed working with him. Did I have a crush on him? Yes. Had I ever put much thought into it or act on it? No because he had been in a pretty serious relationship for four years, until they broke up. It was messy break-up, it was hard on him, hence why he wanted company I guess. 

So we hang out again. He had left the company we worked for by this time. I had just started my period that day which I had admitted to him I was actually kind of bummed about because I had wanted to mess around more than just making out. Going all the way was still out of the question but I was still curious and willing to explore other bases, I had never experienced any of this (except for making out). Not a problem to him, let’s get in the shower, so we did. This should have been red fucking flag #1. I was fucking stupid, naive, and letting my emotions/attractions get the best of me. Red flag #2, he puts a condom on. “Just in case”, he says in response to the “what do you think you’re going to need that for” look I give him. We mess around in the shower, it was fun, everything was fine. We get out and move to the bed, still completely naked. He puts down a towel, red flag #3. What was I thinking during this? Well I probably shouldn’t kill the mood by going and putting on underwear and tampons and pads and shit right now, but I fucking should have. See you don’t need to victim blame, we can do that all by ourselves. We continue making out. “Do you want to?” “No, you know my rule” He tries to push it in the littlest bit. I put my hand on his chest and push him back a little. “How about just the tip, that doesn’t even count.” “No” “C’mon, if you don’t do this it’s gonna hurt so bad.” (Blue balls he was talking about). He pushed in, and again and again and again and so on. My hand still placed on his chest, no longer pushing. I gave up. Is giving up giving consent? The fucking answer is NO it is NOT fucking giving consent. Why didn’t I fight back, push him off, get dressed and just leave? It was something I would later on learn is called the freeze response. He finishes. I’m trying to process what just happened, (I wouldn’t really until about 2 months later). He gets up, “are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine, just breathless”, I try to joke. I need to get out of there. He sits up, starting to put on his clothes. “I’ll try not to feel too bad about that.” What he means by this I’m not exactly sure. I rush out of there, giving him the excuse it was way past my curfew. The second I get in my car I break down completely. I drive home around 2am on the freeway almost maxing out my car at 100mph, screaming “No” the whole way and crying. I still lived with my parents, so I get home and luckily get some sleep, having exhausted myself from the screaming and crying. I wake up. 

I would eventually come to realize that I had tried to convince myself it was fine. I wanted it, I put myself in that situation, it was fine, it was definitely not rape. But it was. Trying to falsify the real situation in my head was my first defense mechanism. I even texted him the next morning saying something like “I had fun last night, can’t wait to hang out again.” I told my friends. “It just happened” “It’s kind of a relief that I’m not a virgin anymore.” But it wasn’t. We did hang out again, and we did have sex again, that time consensual. Why? I’m not sure. I think I was trying to relive and re-take control of what had happened and continue my “its okay, I wanted this” fantasy. But it wasn’t. I could only try to hide and attempt to normalize for so long. About two months after, I faced the truth, I had been raped. But what now what? How could I have started singing a different song when I told myself and all my friends a completely different story. I never told my parents and never will, both for their sake and my own, I can only guess their reactions but I don’t think any of them would have been helpful to me. I did eventually try to tell some of my closer friends what had actually happened, but it’s hard to explain especially in person. Some listened and were there for me, some brushed it off, some didn’t seem to believe me or care. I knew this was something I would have to overcome and deal with somewhat on my own. And for the most part I have. I was fucked up before this happened, having been diagnosed with depression three years before. I had learned how to manage things for the most part, give or take a self harm relapse here and there.

So he eventually ends up in a relationship, also about two months later. They kind of have a rough start, she cheated on him early on. He texts me one day looking for some support. I go off on him, tell him not to talk to me, tell him how that night really was for me. His view or side of the story or whatever? “Oh I’m sorry if there was some miscommunication.” Miscommunication, LOL, sure you call it that if that’s what helps you sleep at night. That argument didn’t end well and we stopped talking. I of course unfollowed and unfriended him from all social media but it was impossible to completely distance myself given that many of my coworkers were and still are friends with him and boy does news travel fast in that workplace of any goings ons with anyone. That was some time in January 2016. Months later in the summer of 2016 he and the same girl who had cheated on him were still together. He texts me one night, saying he misses me and wished I was I there to cuddle with him. “Shouldn't your girlfriend be doing that?” I respond. I don’t hear back. I go off on him the next morning, and he apologized saying he felt ashamed and immediately turned off his phone after I called him out. He ends up marrying the girl, and apparently they are still together. Happy or not, don’t know don’t fucking care. I haven’t talked to him since. 

Unfortunately that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen him pop up on other co-workers/friend’s social media feeds every once in a while. He even tried to follow me on instagram about a month ago (thought I had you blocked already but we can take care of that now I guess). That night is something that I think about at least once every single day, and I wish that was an exaggeration. Most days I can push the thoughts, the memory, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the disorientation, the anxiety/panic attacks, away. Most days but not all. 

So why am I sharing this story now, years later? I don’t know. Some days it’s just really fucking hard to deal with. Especially when I’m so often reminded of it. With movements like #metoo, #whyididntreport, and the media exposing multiple sexual assault cases it’s hard to avoid the subject. Not that these movements are bad by any means but I’m sure I’m not the only one where sometimes it just reminds me of my own situation, something I don’t need reminding of. And I realize that my case is “minor” for lack of a better word and it could have been a lot worse, but it doesn’t change the fact that I had something taken from me that I can never get back and without my consent. 

There is hope though, this story isn’t completely without a happy ending. I have a small circle of really great and close friends. I have an amazing best friend who I’ve known for 16 years and honestly I don’t where I would be today without her. I have a boyfriend who has shown me the selfless love that I thought only existed on TV. I have a good family. I have excelled at all my jobs and in art school. I’ve had amazing experiences and adventures. I’m not completely tragic, even though I do feel like I am sometimes. I have my shit together, for the most part...

However, today was one of those days he popped up on my instagram feed in a friend’s post, two different posts from two different people actually. It’s not their fault, I don’t think they have any idea. But today was one of those days I couldn’t push the thoughts out of my mind, especially when I have so much time to think on my long drives to and from work, school, home, etc. I had always thought about posting my story here, where I remain anonymous for the most part. I’m not even sure how many of my few followers are still active. This could easily be a shout into the void but I had to shout somewhere, to get it out of me somehow. Did it help? Somewhat? I’m not sure. I just feel numb at the moment I guess, which is better than I was an hour ago crying on the way home from work? I don’t know, sometimes it’s just really fucking hard.

[sadlittlenerdking]

There’s This Idiot

The Magicians, Quentin x Eliot

Word count: 2,476

Summary: I fucking felt bad about that angst af drabble I wrote earlier so here have some crackish fluff where Eliot’s the oblivious idiot. (You may wanna read that before this bc this makes up for that and you won’t be sad if you read in that order. But if you read this then that, you’re gonna be sad)

Quentin doesn’t even remember falling asleep in the nook. But here he is, waking up, curled in on himself, with both of the sliding doors shut almost all the way. For a moment, he’s confused, mouth smacking together with sleep and thirst. He’s not sure what wakes up him up, but there’s a soft hum of voices beyond the doors. For a moment, he’s tempted to push them up and reveal himself, but the familiar sounds of Eliot and Margo’s laughing, followed by Todd’s disgruntled, confused grumbling, stays him for a moment.

He sits up, book three of Fillory and Further falling off him stomach and landing on the cushion behind him with a soft plop. He freezes, thinking it’ll alert them to his presence, but nobody comes forward to rip the doors open and call him out for spying on them. 

“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Margo asks after a few long minutes of nothing but the sound of Quentin’s guilty breathing, and of ice being jostled around in a glass - presumably Eliot’s cocktail of the hour. 

He can hear Eliot’s long exhale, probably a cigarette. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He responds, sounding a bit to suave, even for Eliot. Quentin resists a smile, as he scoots a bit closer to the nook doors, carefully to keep himself steady and to not crash against them. The last thing he needs to do is lose his only friends because a fresh round of paranoia and the urge to eavesdrop and make sure they don’t secretly hate him has decided to rear it’s head. 

“About Quentin.” 

Quentin’s heart drops. Because of course. They’re trying to figure out how to let him down easily. For once the depression induced paranoia hit the nail on the head. If he were still going to a therapist, this would be one of those things he’d opt to not mention. Admitting defeat to depression, is not exactly something that would keep him from immediate readmission. 

“Ah, this again?” Eliot murmurs, so soft Quentin almost can’t hear him. “You’ve really got to let this subject go, Bambi.” 

“I can’t when you’re mooning after him like some sad, sick, little lost lamb.” 

Wait - what?

“I am not mooning -,”

“Fine,” Margo amends, “Not mooning . . . pining? Longing? Oh, maybe yearning? No, no . . . you’re right. Achingly watching from a distance is probably more accurate.” 

Eliot huffs. “You’re obsessed.” 

“Only when I’m right.” 

They’re quiet for a few minutes, drinking, smoking, probably cuddling on the couch like they alway do. And Quentin’s about to try and go back to sleep, when Eliot says, “What if you are? He’s straight.” 

She scoffs. “Please. That boy is more bi than a bicycle at a tricycle convention.” 

Quentin nods to himself, she’s not exactly wrong. He’s always been attracted to whoever he’s attracted to - no specifications, no prerequisites, no anything - just whoever makes him feel alive. And, Alice may have been the first person he confessed his interest in, but she’s by far not the only one. Or the main one. He’s just always assumed Eliot would never, in a million years look his way as more than the poor, little sad first year he took under his wing. 

And Quentin does have feelings for Alice, but they had their thing at Brakebills, and everything fizzled out after the scent of the fox wore off and they realized they’re better off as friends. 

But, he has a strong, overwhelming feeling that what he feels for Eliot, as strong and annoyingly profound as it is, isn’t going anywhere. He’s just always assumed it’s this one sided stupid little crush. Because Eliot is, well, Eliot, and Quentin is so resolutely not. 

“What makes -,”

“Honey,” Something gets set down on the coffee table, “He’s bi. Make your move already.” 

“I don’t want to scare him off.” 

Maybe six months ago an advance from Eliot would have sent Quentin running in the opposite direction, desperate to believe that this is some cruel prank, okay, maybe even six minutes ago - but that’s not his fault. He knows Eliot now. Knows what makes him tick. Knows when he’s about to fall apart, and wha to say to keep him from falling over the edge. Knows just where to press into his shoulders to relax him. Knows his drink of choice, and how exactly to prepare it to get that proud grin after a first sip. 

“El -,” 

“I’m going to bed.” 

“It’s only 2am,” Margo argues, but Quentin can hear the rustling of fabric as they both get up, “It’s too early.” 

“It’s been a long day, and I’m tired. You can either join me, or go find someone else to cuddle up with.” 

Margo sighs. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Quentin hears one of them kiss the other, and then they’re walking up the stairs, and the lights turn off, leaving Quentin alone in the nook with his books, and his thoughts. 

And, jesus, he has a lot of thoughts.

Though, for once they’re not circling around in this disgusting circle of self hate and paranoia, because he has something else to focus on: 

Telling Eliot just how god damn, magically bi he is. 

* 

Of course it all goes terribly, terribly wrong. 

Because Margo is watching him, and Eliot’s avoiding him, and it’s this whole big stupid game of cat and mouse, where for the first god damn time in his life Quentin is somehow simultaneously the cat and the mouse. He spends half the day trying to track Eliot down, but every time he even gets near, Margo’s pulling him aside for fashion advice, or to look at this new spell she learned, or ‘How should I do my hair for tomorrow’s party? I don’t need you to tell me if I look good, just tell me which one looks better. Be honest, pumpkin. Or I will curse you.’ 

And, look, Quentin’s a relatively calm, collected guy, but fuck if he doesn’t get to kiss Eliot, or something, by the end of the day, he’s going to lose his fucking mind. Because he has been fantasizing about this for months, and after spending all that time thinking it’s nothing more than a fantasy, only to learn, hey we could have been making out this whole time - he’s got some time to make up for. 

A lot of time.

Because if he’s at all honest with himself, he would’ve jumped Eliot that first day if not for the obvious wonder at magic being real, Eliot being so blatantly out of his league, and did Quentin mention magic? 

When Penny appears in the cottage, bored and uninterested, Quentin tries so desperately not to think about it. But apparently focusing on not thinking about it makes him forget to focus on his wards, and suddenly Penny’s tilt his head and turning to him with an evil little smirk, and Eliot’s not even at the cottage, and Quentin wants to fucking die.

“Oh really?” Penny asks, slow and evil because he’s an evil bastard and Quentin hates him. 

Margo looks up from her magazine, waves a hand, “What’s happening here?” She asks, glaring up at Penny. “You two aren’t fucking are you?” Suddenly, she snaps the magazine shut and sits up straight, turning her glare on Quentin. “Are you?” 

Penny scoffs. “Not even in his wildest dreams.”Quentin tilts his head, starts thinking the lyrics to Taylor Swifts Wildest Dreams as loud as he possibly can until Penny growls, sneering at him. “If you know what’s best for you -,”

He stops midlyric, thinks at him, ‘Make her leave me alone long enough to find Eliot, and I’ll spend as long as it takes getting extra tutoring on my wards.’ Penny narrows his eyes, before nodding quick and short. “Actually,” He says turning on his heel and smirking at Margo. “I’m here for you.” 

Margo’s eyebrow perks in interest. “For me.” 

Penny nods. “Eliot’s not around is he?” 

She rolls her eyes, waving a flippant hand, “No. He’s studying like a nerd in the library. No amount nipple clamps can save him from an oral exam.” She shrugs a shoulder, placing her hands on her hips, “Apparently it’s not the fun kind of oral exam either.” 

Pen closes his eyes for a moment, clearly trying to avoid saying something dickish. “That’s . . . great. I guess.” He sighs, “Look. Let’s go out.” 

Quentin takes the moment shock runs across her face in every variation as his opportunity to sneak out of the cottage to go find Eliot. He tosses a soft thanks to the thought void, hoping Penny catches it, and starts running across campus. 

When he finds himself standing in front of Eliot’s table, he’s surprised to find he’s not lost his courage. His breath, from running all the way across campus, absolutely. His general overall decent composure, yeah that’s gone.

But hey, he’s got his courage. And a load of sweat pouring down his neck and back. That’s a great image for Eliot to look up and a see; a red faced, sweaty Quentin, grinning ear to ear like an idiot. A confused, soppy, courageous idiot. 

And the look on Eliot’s face is enough tos ay he thinks the same. His eyes track down Quentin’s body, taking in the mess that he is, before he sets his pencil down, leans one forearm against the top of the table, and looks up at him curiously. “Dare I even ask?” 

And Quentin takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his very wet, sweaty hair and nods. “Yeah. You should ask.” 

Quentin waves the hand that isn’t on the table in a go on motion. “Okay. Consider this me asking. What the fuck?”

Quentin nods, turning to his left and starting to pace as he wrings his hands in front of him. “See it all started last night, this morning, whatever,” He looks at him, “It was while the sun was down and the moon was up, technically night but also considered day. Anyways,” He waves one of his hands, looking ahead of him as he continues pacing, “I found out this guy I like likes me. Which, wow, kind of a big deal, right?” He looks at Eliot, chewing on his lip with a frantic nod to himself, but he doesn’t wait for a response. “Then today, I’m like, I have this whole big plan where I’m going to go all ‘surprise you’re an idiot I’m bi! Tada!’ But of course,” He stops to raise a finger to the sky, making a face, “Of fucking course!

“This guy chooses today of all days to avoid me.” He lets his eyes slide over to Eliot for a moment. He’s sat up straight, arms crossed over his chest, a look of mild curiosity on his face as he watches Quentin pace back and forth. “Which - I can deal with that. I can find a way to fix that. Avoidence is my specialty, I can trick people out of not avoiding me if I have to. But no. This guy, this stupid, amazing guy, he has his best friend try and distract me because he knows,” He stops pacing, turning to glare at Eliot, “He knows! I’ll come looking for him. But whatever. It’s fine. 

“So, I spend all day trying to sneak away from this amazing guys best friend, who is also amazing, by the way. I love her to bits. Beside the point, though. In order to escape the grasp of her dangerously sharp claw nails, I have to strike a deal with the devil!”

“The devil?” Eliot nods to himself, his lips twitching as he tries to fight off a smile. “Steep odds for a guy.”

“I know!” Quentin exclaims, “But the devil agrees to help, and I finally - finally - get away from this guys best friend. And I have to run all the way across campus, under the blazing sun in a fucking sweatshirt and jeans because I didn’t think to change, because all I could focus on was finally getting to kiss this stupid, stupid man. So I get there, I finally get there, and he’s actually studying - like, genuinely reading a book to avoid me. Which is frustrating. But then I realize I’m all sweaty and angry and sexually frustrated amongst other things - just as he looks up at me.” He pauses to breathing, heaving in a big breath as Eliot watches him carefully. “And the only thing this stupid man seems capable of doing is staring at me!” 

Eliot nods, pushing his chair back and standing up so Quentin has to look up at him as he slowly rounds the table. Quentin takes a small step back with every step forward Eliot takes, until his back bumps up against a shelf of books. “So, let me see if I got this right,” Eliot murmurs, swiping his index finger overtop the table as he passes it. “You’re not straight. You’re desperate to get fucked. And you’re in love with some oblivious asshole who just doesn’t appreciate all you’ve been through today? Is that about the jist?” 

He swallows as Eliot stops just a few inches away from him. “ S-Sounds about right.” 

Eliot hums, closing the space between them, his hand coming up to cup the back of Quentin’s neck. He doesn’t even make a face at the dampness there, just smiles down at him. “So, say this apparently attractive idiot were to make it up to you. How would he go about doing that?” 

Quentin shrugs, leaning into Eliot’s touch. “I mean. A good place to start would be a kiss . . . I can’t think of anywhere to end.” 

Smirking, Eliot leans down to whisper in his ear, “Oh, Q, I can think of so many places to end.” And then he moves around and presses his lips against Quentins, and jesus christ it’s so much more than any of the stupid, pointless, never going to ever seem good enough again fantasies. 

And then when Eliot’s tongue sweeps across the seam of Quentin’s lips, he swears he see’s a glimpse of god in the distance giving him a thumbs up. 

“Thank fuck,” He murmurs against Eliot’s mouth.

Eliot pulls away, looks down at him, one of his thumbs coming up to sweep along Quentin’s cheek, along his jaw line, “Oh, Q.” He says, soft, “We’ll get there, just not yet.” He smirks before leaning back in, pulling Quentin’s body taut against his own as they crash into the bookshelf behind them.

Quentin doesn’t even feel the spine of the books jabbing into his spine he’s so fucking happy. Sweaty and happy. 

[elenahowl]

The Story of Juho the Jahoo

Story time.  Strap in.  This is long.  

Here’s the story of Juho.  If you don’t speak Finnish, you should know that the J sound in Finnish is actually a Y sound like at the beginning of yellow.  So read the above as “You-ho the Yahoo”.  He is indeed a ho.  And he’s a yahoo.  And I don’t like him.  

I want you to picture the craziest fan you have ever known in your life.  Think of that person who’s obsessed with a celebrity so hard that you think they need help.  You know at least one of them.  Maybe you are that person.  Well, you are not as crazy as Juho.  

I met Juho at the anniversary of the opening of the Riff, a bar in Helsinki owned by the drummer for the 69 Eyes.  This was in late May, 2016.  I ended up talking to him because he was wearing a HIM shirt and I was wearing a HIM necklace and we just got chatting.  He was kinda cute.  Obviously he was trying to look like Ville Valo.  He has the 90s Ville hair and jacket going on and I think that’s cool.  Doesn’t really look much like Ville, which is probably exactly why I was attracted to him, but he pulls off the look well.  Whatever.  I’m actually kind of turned off by people who aren’t their own person.  If they’re twinning too hard with a celeb it’s a turn off.  

So I do kind of make a move on this guy because he’s attractive and friendly and he’s like “You’re cute and I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend.”  I’m like okay, and I leave it at that.  I go about my way.  

Later in the evening, he approaches me.  Drags me over to meet his girlfriend.  I’m super drunk and I think I actually flirt with his girlfriend at some point, which obviously does not warm me to her.  Awkward.  Whatever, that’s not really an important part of the story.  Eventually she goes home.  Note that Sandra Mittica, Ville Valo’s infamous ex girlfriend, is there at the party and she and Juho know each other and I’m pretty sure that she knows Juho is absolutely bonkers, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  

So I’m there, Juho is talking to Sandra, I’m talking to these other two random guys from Turku and Rovaniemi, just two random guys having a conversation.  Juho comes over, literally pulls me out of the conversation I’m having, and pulls me to the back room.  I’m following all this because there’s something about Juho that’s interesting.  I don’t know what at this point, but it’s interesting, and I want to know what’s up in his head.  I end up in the back room.  Most of the conversation is in Finnish, Sandra’s there, Juho’s there.  Juho is making eyes at me.  I’m uncomfortable because 1, there’s a guy who has a girlfriend making his move on me and I don’t want to make the enemy of half of Helsinki (if you make one female enemy in Helsinki, you make a million female enemies in Helsinki; news travels fast), and 2, I’m in the room with the ex girlfriend of Ville Valo, a person whose name I have never heard said with reverence (Sandra’s, I mean, not Ville’s).  

I spoke briefly to Sandra.  She didn’t know clearly what was going on, but she could tell that there was something up between Juho and me.  She called me out on flirting with Juho.  I was actually low-key annoyed at Juho at this point because he was expecting me to follow him, telling me to be quiet, and just not being very pleasant.  Also, I’m not a passive person, as he’d learn about a month later…  

I’ll note that Sandra was not unpleasant.  in the Ville Valo fandom she gets a bad rep, yeah, but she wasn’t bad.  I didn’t speak with her long enough to get a sense of her actual personality, but she didn’t seem awful at least.  I’d tucked my Heartagram necklace into my shirt when I’d realized she was around, so she didn’t see that, but she saw my HIM wallet for sure and could tell I was a fan.  She wasn’t a monster to me, a HIM fan.  

The bar closes, Sandra says her goodbyes to Juho (they’re friends apparently?), and everyone tips out of there.  Juho beckons me out.  I follow because, well, we all have to get out anyway.  He offers me a cigarette.  This was before I became any kind of social smoker, so I said no.  He asked “Want to go back to my place?”  I said no.  No explanation.  All I said was “No.”  I walked away.  I thought I’d never see him again, I’d never find out what about him gave me a weird “you’re interesting” vibe.  

I went back to the bar a few days later.  Talked the the bartender.  He knows Juho pretty well.  I was kind of bitching over Juho and the bartender was defending him.  But it kind of felt like if the March Hare was defending the Mad Hatter, you know?  Two different crazies insisting the other isn’t crazy and that everyone’s fine and nothing is wrong. 

Soon after that, I leave Helsinki to go up north.  I come back at the end of June for a week.  So on June 29th I’m in the Riff late.  Really late.  I’d been out with a friend earlier and she’d went home, but I’d stuck around to drink and write and just enjoy being in Helsinki, my favorite place on earth. Chris Kael from from Five Finger Death Punch was hanging out there, so I got to meet him and talk to him, which was pretty cool.  

Around 2AM, Juho walks in.  I’m just like “…”

He sees me.  He recognizes me.  Says hello, all smiles.  Girlfriend is nowhere in sight.  He’s talking to some friends for a while while I’m talking to Chris.  At some point, Juho comes over and invites me out for a cigarette.  I accept.  

We sit outside talking.  He’s still attractive.  I have very little respect for him at this point, but I’m still intrigued by him somehow.  He tells me he’s having a problem with his girlfriend because he drinks so much and she doesn’t like that.  So he’s here at the Riff drinking more and talking with a girl he was hitting on in front of her a month ago?  Because logic.  

We get talking about Ville, about Sandra, about Ville’s dad.  About how both he and I are in weird positions where we’re fans of Ville but we’ve never met him and we’re just friends with people who are close to him.  We relate to each other like that.  

We go back in, do shots, and then he invites me home.  This time I say yes.  I wasn’t drunk enough that I was worried, and he was drunk and un-muscled enough that I could definitely fight him off, so I say why the fuck not.  I have no intention of sleeping with him, and I tell him that.  I also tell him that I would have gone home with him when we met if he hadn’t had a girlfriend.  Everything’s going fine…  Until we get to his apartment.  

Remember how I said to picture the craziest fan you can think of?  Allow me to introduce you to Juho.  I get into his apartment.  Previously, I’d only seen the fact that he tries to look like Ville a bit, wears HIM shirts, wears HIM jewelry, and has Ville as his phone background.  His apartment is a crazy person’s shrine to Ville.  No pictures of family or anything on the walls, only pictures of Ville.  His computer background is Ville.  His sheets are heartagram sheets, which I didn’t even know existed.  The first thing he did when we got in was put on HIM and a HIM concert video.  He starts showing off all his HIM merch.  Heartagram shirts, a backpack, a hat, a zillion beanies, a fucking pair of underwear hanging off a chair...   

Like, this is a fucking room full of crazy.  

So the total tally is: He tries to look like Ville.  He tries to act and sound like Ville.  He pulled a couple of “pickup lines” on me that were Ville quotes (which I called him out on because I’m not letting someone get away with bullshit), so he tries to talk like Ville.  He dresses like Ville. His room’s a shrine to Ville.  He listens to nothing but Ville.  He watches nothing but Ville.  He talks about nothing but himself and Ville.  All his technology is Ville-themed.  He has some of the same friends as Ville.  He smokes because Ville.  He’s a fucking alcoholic because of Ville.  He’s vegan because of Ville.  

He has no personality outside of Ville.  And it’s kind of creepy.  

He thinks he’s gonna sleep with me because he thinks he looks like Ville.  I’m just like no, dude, you have a girlfriend.  I actually have to push him off of me a couple of times, but I can’t really go anywhere because the busses had stopped by then and it was going to be another three hours before I could get home.  

We talk.  He says outright that he respects me more for not sleeping with him, for listening to him.  He tries to feed me vegan pasta, which would be good, except he can’t cook worth shit.  The kitchen is full of beer bottles.  It’s beyond bachelor pad.  It’s a cry for help.  He’s a mess because he has no identity outside of Ville.  

At 3:30AM his girlfriend calls.  I keep quiet.  His girlfriend decides she wants to come over NOW to talk shit out, so both me and Juho are like “shit.”  He sneaks me out really quickly and I’m like “You owe me one, man.”  He’s damn lucky I didn’t tell his girlfriend that he’s a cheater because I’d wanted to a month ago and still hadn’t.  He is low-key on my shit list at this point.  I make it out of the apartment and have to hide behind a trash bin on my way down the street so his girlfriend didn’t see me while she walks up the other side.  

I think hiding behind a trash bin at 3:40 in the morning in Helsinki is probably one of the lowest points in my life.  If you could put a soundtrack to that moment, it would be the James Bond theme song, but, like, played by a third-grader on a kazoo.  

I finally get home at 6:30AM.  I message him the next day to call him out on his shit and stuff.  He blocks me on messenger.  I’m pissed.  

I end up at the Riff again the next night.  I absolutely did not go because I was looking for him.  In fact, I was almost furious when I saw him there.  But the look he gives me… Oh I still feel powerful to this day from that look.  Fear.  Pure fear.  He’s afraid of me.  I corner him eventually.  He’s afraid and stuttering his words and all that.  I tell him to unblock me.  I tell him he needs to tell his girlfriend what’s going on.  He nods and stutters more and leaves to go to the Tuska festival pre-party with some friends.  He never does what I told him to do.  

I haven’t seen him since.  We’re still connected on facebook and such.  I see his updates and he’s still with his girlfriend.  He’s still a drunk ho.  He’s still a Ville-obsessed mess.  And he’s still on my shit list.  When I get back to Helsinki, he’s gonna have hell to pay.  

So if you ever feel like the crazy fan, think of Juho.  Next time you want to go to a celebrity’s house, think of Juho.  Always remember, never try to buy a personality at a rock merch shop.  Or you will end up like Juho.  Don’t end up like Juho.  

[herriblog]

Addy

I was chatting on yahoo chat probably 11 years ago. I had chatted with a guy called Adeel, Pakistani who was working here. He seemed cool and he stayed in Hillview (I think lah, cus he was staying in the West and I was in the East). He insisted that we meet. I refused multiple times during the chat. And he reassured me that we were not going to do anything and that we will be meeting in a public area. Girl was obviously scared. I've watched Oprah Winfrey Shows and I've seen some bad shit there. He reassured me and even suggested that since I am so scared, I could bring my friend along. He was willing to come to my housing area. I called my best friend, Ruby, and asked her. And she was like I'm down if you are. Then I agreed to the meet up.

Boy, was I nervous. I barely could sleep that night. We picked him up at Tanah Merah train station and we walked to one of the coffeeshops near my place. And we all chatted for hours. We clicked instantly. It was the best thing ever. But in my head, I liked like him. I mean he was the first guy I met and he was so charismatic and he had a mousy look but thin. He worked as a ...wait I forgot. All I recall was he worked in shipyards and he had to be away for a couple days. And whenever he got back, he always made time to meet me. As we started to meet up more, I realised that, "Nah... he ain't my type. First of all, He was Muslim...Ma was always against them. And if she knew I dated him, she would come back from the dead just to skin me alive. And as time went by, I didn't see him as a crush.

And one day, three of us had just finished watching a movie. We were standing outside the lift and Ruby said, "You guys should totally date. You look so cute."I was like me? date him? you kidding me? I barely can stand him." and He said, "With all due respect, she is a beautiful girl. But I cannot date her. She isn't Muslim and we can't marry non muslims and she wouldn't convert if I told her" And I nodded in agreement. Ruby always wanted to see us together. I glared her and mouthed the words 'what the fuck, babe!'And she just shrugged her shoulder and smile. She came over and whispered to me, "You may never know he has a thing for you. I was just checking."

And I was like right. You should ask me first before you blurt that out.

He used to surprise me at work and we used to go for makan. And I was always wondering what was he trying to do. But I liked the attention. I loved it. Haha...loved being pampered. But we didn't hold hands, hugged or anything. Just as friends.

Addy was very nice. He knew that I was moving house. I introduced him to my parents. They were alright. They didn't ask if we were daring or anything. That's one thing I loved about them. They never interfered. So anyways, he helped me moved boxes into my new flat. And he was a smoker. And we had this strict rule of no smoking in the house. So he used to go out to the corridor and smoke. He helped organised the house. And one day, we were hanging out by the living room window and he received a phone call. And he just said he had a urgent matter to sort out as his roommate is giving him some issue. I was like, No worries, Addy...You settle it. If you need anything, you can let me know. So probably a week went by and I didn't hear from him. I decided to call him and we met.

Jeez, Addy was a mess. He had a stubble beard, hair messed up with real bad eye bags. And he shared with me what had happened. He was dating a girl and she messed up his life. And he couldn't get over it. She kept on asking him to marry but he wasn't ready. He kept on saying that he hadn't made enough money. She wrecked up his place because she found out that he was helping me move house. She thought that he was dating me. He had explained that he wasn't. But she wasn't ready to listen. So from the entire thing, I thought she was a horrible person to do such a thing to him. How can you not trust him. He was shattered.

And I couldn't stand him being shattered. Why? Cus he fucking annoyed the fuck out of me. He used to always come by my house every night and stayed till 1/2am, using my laptop to stalk his ex. I got sick and tired of his behaviour. I tried to tell him come on, Addy...there are so many chicks in the world better than her. But he didn't listen. After about a month of spoiling my sleep and peace, he called up and said they patched back and they are planning to marry. I was like uh! What. Okay...Congrats!" Before I could complete my sentence, he wanted to introduce me to her. In my mind, Chutiye, you said so many things about her and now you want me to meet her. I literally fucking hate her.

So we all met up. And the first thing she said was, Wow, you are pretty. I'm surprised that Addy didn't date you. I thought you guys were dating. Anyways, too bad for you, I got him to myself. I looked over to Ruby and we both rolled our eyes. So we hung out at Bugis, shisha-ed. And they asked me to be their photographer. I almost choked on my blue lagoon. I coughed and pat my chest, "Wait. What! ME? Be your photographer? Don't you have your own?" And they said they wanted to save costs. So they just wanted a simple photographer. Me and Ruby both stared at each other in disbelief. I knew that I wasn't that great. I told her that I wasn't a professional and the pictures may be horrible. But She still insisted that I do it. And I caved in. So I went ahead. Took some shots. And sent her the pictures.

After the wedding, I tried to meet him up or call him. He always rejected my call. And once, he told me not to call him as she is a very suspicious lady and he wanted peace with her. And I was like okay...sure. You know where to find me.

So he would find me every few years once to ask about what medication to treat his brother with kinda thing and that was it. And I was like bro...I was there for your shit and you don't even ask me out for makan or anything. F-you, bro. She invited me for their son's first birthday  etc. I refused to come so Ruby went with her fiance. I just rolled my eyes. And Ruby said that I should forget all my anger and forgive her. I wasn't gonna do that. So I just quit talking to him. Lost a really good friend.

Haiz. yep... my first chat friend I met