#when i was in physical therapy my therapist asked if i had been doing my massages in the shower

[gibbearish]

(random words bolded for ease of reading)

the best protip i could ever give to fellow adhders (but also applies to everyone) is to always keep an eye out in conversation for people who start to say something then get talked over, and once the current conversation thread ends, swing back around to them and go "what were you about to say?"

benefits:

- that person knows they were heard and feels validated and supported

- the person who interrupted them realizes they did so in a way that doesn't publically call them out, allowing them to process it on their own without shame clogging the pipes

- you yourself are less likely to interrupt others, and the times you do are more likely to be easily forgiven bc the other person knows it wasnt because you thought what you had to say was more important, but just because Mouth Move Faster Than Brain Sometimes

- there's automatically a new topic of conversation waiting in reserve

- professional environments see this as "attention to detail" and "mindfulness" and "teambuilding skills"

- helps combat subconscious bigotries/power dynamics that lead to certain people getting talked over more than others (eg misogyny/racism/homophobia/transphobia/etc)

- ^ again may help you be more mindful of those patterns in yourself and work to unlearn them

- people who like you will want to emulate the behaviors of yours they see as good

- i know people will say "create a positive space around yourself and itll domino effect" all the time and it sounds like wishy washy hippie bullshit but genuinely i cannot emphasize enough that it really does work

- like ive watched it happen in real time, i don't think i have a single friend now that hasn't picked this up from me because They Like When I Do It, It Makes Them Feel Good

- nobody likes being interrupted and everybody gets interrupted All The Goddamn Time. like i need to really drive it home that im not exaggerting when i say you'll be a sorely needed reprieve if you make an effort to do this

- and they really will start doing it in return, likely without you even having to ask if that stresses you out

- it's a small and easy way to make the world a bit kinder for everyone

- godspeed my beloveds~

[steddieas-shegoes]

It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy

He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation

He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him

Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week

Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone

He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little

Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens

And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning

Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him

And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll

But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side

“What’s that?”

“Your walker.”

“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”

“You are today.”

And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy

But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself

“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”

“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”

“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”

“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”

It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him

But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker

He pulled himself up

His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear

Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two

Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving

He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve

“Happy?”

“Are you?”

And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks

Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away

“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”

Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so

It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once

Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days

Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday

When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed

And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date

“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.

Steve should say no, but he doesn’t

Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist

[cuubism]

i went to physical therapy for my stupid broken arm so as is my legal obligation i HAD to make ship content about it. everything is ship content that's how it is

cw injury, referenced abusive relationships

--

Hob's had plenty of clients come to physical therapy who clearly don't want to be there. Plenty of others who are reasonably frustrated by the work and time involved in regaining functioning after an injury. But this is the first time he's just had someone be... quiet. Resigned.

Dream sits with his hand cradled to his chest, barely speaking, only answering when Hob asks a direct question. He's reluctant to give Hob his hand when Hob asks if he can look at it, like he thinks Hob's grip is a bear trap that will snap down and crush the bones like whatever had done so the first time. Hob still doesn't know what that was. All he knows is the bones have been realigned and healed over but the dexterity in his hand still isn't right. That was what Dream had said, in the first spark of passion Hob had heard from him. It's not right.

But he does eventually give his hand over. His bones are so fine and delicate, and each movement hesitant. Cautious. Hob tests the flexibility. The strength. Dream is right, it's not where it should be. He still doesn't know what happened.

"I won't make you tell me if you really don't want to," Hob says gently. "But it is important to know how it happened to make sure we rehab it the right way. Did you get it caught in something? I've seen guys come in with machine injuries like that."

Nothing about Dream suggests "person who works with heavy machinery." But who knows. Hob will try not to stereotype.

"No," Dream says quietly, looking down and away from his hand like he can't bear to see it. "I. I am an artist. My ex... he felt that I cared more about my art than about him. Perhaps I did. And he was... frustrated. I suppose."

Hob can put the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Jesus," he breathes, and Dream flinches.

"I have an unfortunate ability to involve myself with such people," he says.

"No, it's not your fault," Hob says automatically.

Dream narrows his eyes. "You presume to know that?"

Hob raises his hands in surrender. "Never mind. I won't pry." He's not Dream's therapist. His job is to help him with his hand, not... whatever else is going on in his life.

He takes Dream's hand carefully between both of his own again. Presses down lightly on his knuckles. "So. Crushed. Like that?"

Dream nods. Hob still doesn't know all the details, but he's imagining a boot going down hard on the top of Dream's hand. The thought is sickening.

"Can you fix it?" Dream asks, like he doesn't dare to hope.

"Well, you already had it repaired surgically, yeah?" Hob says. This strikes him as a bit of good luck--hand fractures are not simple--but he doesn't want to undercut Dream's confidence even further by saying so. He's usually pretty good at reading his clients, and he's already sensing that Dream is holding onto his determination to be here at all by the barest thread. Best to build him up as much as possible. "So it's just a matter of strengthening the muscles again."

He's fairly confident he can get him back to a usual level of functioning with it. The question is whether he can return him to the specific level of dexterity he needs for his art. He doesn't say that. Not yet.

Finally, he gets the tiniest of smiles out of Dream. He's really lovely when he smiles.

(He's pretty when he doesn't smile, too. Hob would have to be blind not to notice it.)

"So," Hob says. "Let's look at the current range of motion, yeah?"

Dream tilts his head. "Did you not already do so?"

"For regular motion, yeah. But I want to see where it's impacting your drawing."

Dream draws his hand back, looking uncertain.

"Come on." Hob hands him a pen and paper. "Show me. I promise I know nothing about art. If it's not up to your usual standards, I'm not going to be able to tell."

Finally, Dream takes the pen, and starts sketching.

Hob watches, noting the way his hand trembles, his uneven grip on the pen. Notes how quickly he gets demoralized when it doesn't turn out the way he wants. Hob can make out what he's written and drawn, but it's clear from Dream's expression that it's far from how it's supposed to be.

"This is just a starting point," Hob reminds him. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of those sorts of reminders with Dream; he does not seem to find optimism easy.

Then again, if someone who supposedly loved him had hurt him like that, Hob would probably find optimism a bit difficult, too.

Finally, Dream drops the pen, clearly frustrated. "I have tried to paint at home, too. It has not turned out any better. You should throw those away." He gestures to the sketches. "They are terrible."

"Nah, I'm gonna keep them," Hob says, and puts them in his folder. "For comparison later." It could also partially be because he finds Dream's drawings of cats, imperfect as they are, charming. Sue him.

"As you insist," Dream says.

Hob gives him documentation on some other exercises he can do at home. Tries to think through what might make him feel better with his art. It feels, somehow, so important to make him feel better.

"At home, go easy on trying to use a pen, or paintbrush or whatever, it's hard on your hand," he finally says. "But you probably want to get back to your art, so-- okay, don't make fun of me if this is stupid."

Dream just raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Maybe Hob should try to learn more about art before he gives advice. Nevertheless, he forges on. "Holding a pen is tough, but if you wanted to like, finger paint or something? That would probably be fine. Might be good for flexibility, even."

"Finger paint," Dream repeats, enunciating each word.

"I told you not to make fun of me if it was stupid."

Dream smiles, just a small thing, like he finds Hob ridiculous but in a charming way. Good enough, Hob figures.

"Very well," Dream says at last. "I will take your advice."

Dream simply walking out had felt like a distinct possibility, so Hob will take this as a win.

"Hey," he says later, catching Dream for a moment as he's checking him out. "It's going to get better, yeah? Trust me. Don't worry too hard, just give it time."

He really shouldn't make promises like that. But he can't seem to help it, with Dream.

Dream considers, then says. "I do trust you."

Hob finds that it means a lot. Now he's just going to have to earn it.

[icaruspendragon]

i’ve been truly gobsmacked one single time in my entire life and it was during a conversation i had with my therapist dalton about three months after i started seeing him. it went something like this:

dalton: you’d mentioned going to therapy multiple times before, what were those experiences like?

me: *tells him about experiences*

dalton: so all of your past therapists with the exception of one have been men, correct?

me: uh yeah, i guess so.

dalton: was that coincidence or do you prefer speaking with men?

me: i guess i just feel more comfortable talking to a man.

dalton: do you think there’s a reason?

me: i don’t know, i’ve never put much thought into it honestly.

dalton: based on what you’ve told me in prior sessions, do you think it has anything to do with your father being absent both emotionally and physically?

me: uh

dalton: the only reason i ask is because you say you’re indifferent to his indifference as he’s always been unreliable and you’re “used to it.” but do you realize when you’ve talked about your struggles with seeking external validation in wanting people to be proud of you, the people in question are almost exclusively older men who are some kind of authority figure to you? and based on what you’ve told me about your childhood, you didn’t really get the validation and connection you wanted from your father, which is part of why you seek it elsewhere. and while that makes sense, i want to make sure you understand it’s okay if him not doing what a father should do still hurts you, even if though you think it shouldn’t hurt anymore because you’ve been living with his disappointment for the past twenty or so years. it doesn’t matter how old a wound is, sometimes they still hurt.

me: uhh

dalton: anyway, back to my question. do you think it has anything to do with that or do you just feel more comfortable being vulnerable with men?

me: uhhh

dalton: take your time. you don’t have to have an answer right now. just something to maybe think about. now, let’s talk about the dead brother thing.

[heartateasee]

“Epilogue”

Word Count: 19.2k (a long one, but it didn’t feel right to split it up)

(Epilogue for ‘Goodnight and Go’)

Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving) and unprotected sex

⋆★★⋆

*Late winter - a little over three years since the wedding*

*It will be notated in the chapter when the song is meant to start. I highly encourage you to start it when it comes into play, but you can also do whatever your sweet heart desires!*

Sitting in my go to cafe, I jot down another thought into my journal as I take a sip of my black coffee. Today had been a heavy mental day, and I just needed to get out of my house to clear my head. My therapist tasked me with taking up journaling at the end of my first month of therapy - my fourth session. She asked me to start out with lists that she would give me, but then after a while she told me just to jot down whatever came to mind. Even though I wasn't actively in therapy anymore, I still held onto this - it was enough for me to not have to go to an appointment every week.

I was proud of myself for that. I've been able to use the tools given to me to be able to tend to my own mind, and to talk myself down - only having to see my therapist when absolutely necessary.

I couldn't pinpoint why today in particular had my mind so boggled though. There wasn't anything upcoming that I was stressed about that I could think of off the top of my head.

My pen continues to scratch over the page, and I feel that my eyebrows are narrowed in concentration as I let out thought after thought. I could feel the fog in my mind starting to ease with each line, but still...it didn't seem to be enough.

As much as I have gotten a good grip on myself and my emotions, there were days that I still just felt...off. Today was definitely one of them. It wasn't so much anxiousness or nervousness that I was feeling - something that I've battled with for the past two years. It was something different. It was something that I couldn't exactly put my finger on, and I think that's what caused my mind to race from the moment I opened my eyes this morning.

The cafe was bustling on this Saturday morning, and I was lucky that I was able to get my usual two seat table in the back corner. Although I can hear the baristas loud and clear from here, the rest of the noise in the cafe seems to drown due to how far back I am.

"Order for Carter!"

My pen stops, and I take a moment to blink at the page.

It can't be her.

Shaking my head, I push the thought from my mind as I chew on my bottom lip - trying to figure out how to phrase what I want to write down next.

It's not until I see a streak of red hair out of my peripheral that I finally look up.

There's no mistaking the woman smiling as she picks up her cup off the counter. She digs into her bag, and I can see that she's given the barista a postcard with an illustration of a flower on it. There's some kind of quote on the back, and by the look on the barista's face, it must be something kind, or inspirational.

Before I can even think about it, I push myself up from my seat to get a better look. My movement must have been caught out of the corner of her eye because it's barely a few seconds later that she's looking at me.

She holds her paper cup in both hands as we stare at each out from a ways across the cafe - her expression unreadable.

I hadn't seen her since the wedding. After that, she disappeared from my life completely. I had tried for months to reach her, but I never got any response. Gwen had told me she had tried to do the same. I'd only found out just in the past year that was a lie.

No one saw Carter that first Christmas after everything.

After that, the holidays were always separated due to the fact that Carter and Gwen's parents divorced only a few months after the wedding. I knew that  Carter spent the holidays with her father while Gwen and I spent them with mother. Their parents hardly had any communication with each other, and I knew that their mother hadn't attempted to reach out to Carter at all - something she made very clear whenever she could.

I should've realized then what this all would become.

Carter's brown eyes look around for a moment before she starts to walk over to me, and I immediately feel my hands begin to shake.

"Harry," she says, just barely meeting my eyes now that she was closer to me. "Hi."

"Hi, Carter," my voice almost sounds strained as I speak, and I clear my throat almost immediately. "I...I didn't know you were visiting."

"Oh, no," she shakes her head. "I'm not visiting. I moved back a couple of months ago. This place has become a regular spot for me. I don't live too far from here."

I raise my eyebrows at her words, and it's then I can see she's looking past me to get a view of the table I had been sitting at - as if she were looking for someone else.

"Do you want to sit?" I ask, turning around and gesturing to the chair across from the one I had been occupying. "I'm here by myself."

Carter takes a moment before she nods. "Okay."

I pull the seat out for her, which earns me a small 'thank you', before I sit back in my own seat. Carter turns to hang her bag on the back of her chair before she's facing forward once more - both of her hands finding their way around her cup again.

Her eyes look down at my journal, and I quickly close it - pulling it from the table to slip into the green tote bag I had brought with me.

"You journal?" She asks, tilting her head to the side.

"Uh, yeah," I lift a hand to rub the back of my neck. I've never really talked to anyone but my therapist about my journaling before. "For about a year or so now."

Carter hums as she nods, pursing her lips to the side. "I do too, but I'm going on about two and a half years. I picked it up when I started therapy."

My chest aches as I can see a sheen of sadness in her eyes for a moment before it disappears. "I started it up for the same reason too."

I can tell this surprises her, and silence blankets over us for a moment.

"Are you still tattooing?" I ask - grimacing when I realize just how awkward this feels between us.

"I am," I watch as a large smile creeps onto Carter's face. "I'm actually working at the shop with Duncan again. He was nice enough to hire me back as soon as I told him I'd be moving home. He was thrilled, actually."

"Of course he was," I say, laughing a bit. "You're exceptional at what you do, Carter. Any shop would be lucky to have you."

Carter's cheeks flush due to my compliment, and I watch as she lifts her cup to her mouth. She hisses quickly as she pulls it away, and I know she's burned her tongue.

"Here," I reach forward without hesitation to take the cup from her.

Her eyes are trained on my every move as I pull the lid off the cup, setting it down on a napkin on the table. This was something I did for her quite often when we were in college. There was a bookstore/coffee shop that we frequented a few days a week, and Carter was never one to be patient and wait for her drink to cool properly. I started doing this as a quick solution without her even asking. It just became a habit for me.

I can tell her eyes are on my left hand, and then she looks up at me. "You...you're not..."

"I'm not...what?"

Carter looks back at my hand before looking at my face again. "You're not wearing your ring."

My eyebrows knit together as I look at her. "Carter," I start, and I can tell she's genuinely curious as to why that particular piece of jewelry is missing. "Gwen and I are divorced."

Her eyes widen for a moment, and I watch as the color leaves her face. "O-Oh....oh," she says, straightening up in her chair as she drops her hands to her lap. I can tell she's running her palms over her thighs as she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Harry, I-I didn't-"

"You didn't know?"

Carter shakes her head again, and I can see with the way her chest is moving that she's trying to take deep breaths.

"Hey," I whisper, leaning forward to take one of her hands in mine from underneath the table - thankful that this table wasn't too big so I was able to reach across to her easily. "It's okay. It actually doesn't surprise me that you wouldn't know."

I run my thumb along her knuckles, and I can tell it's starting to soothe her as she finally looks up from the table to make eye contact with me.

"My dad had said that Gwen moved away, but I figured that meant you did too. That's why I was a bit shocked to see you here," she says, and I can tell she's trying to put it all together. "I don't think he even knows you guys have separated. My mom had only told him about the move."

I can't help but roll my eyes at that. Another thing that didn't shock me. Their mother didn't want their father, or Carter, to know about the divorce. She didn't want Gwen to look like she failed at something.

"She did move," I give Carter's hand one more squeeze before sitting back in my chair - our touch separating. "About five months ago. We've been separated for almost a year and a half. She left a few months after the divorce was completely finalized."

Carter's face shows that she's completely dumbfounded by this information, but she's trying to keep it together. "That's...that's why I moved back, you know? Because I thought you both were gone."

Her words sting, but I can't hold them against her. We wronged her, Gwen and I both, and I don't ever expect her to forgive me for the way that I treated her while I was with Gwen. I know that if anyone had treated me the way I did her, I'd never speak to them again.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you to sit with me. I didn't know you thought I was gone too," I tell her, and now I'm the one gripping my thighs. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I more than understand if I'm the last person you ever wish to talk to."

Looking down at my lap, I pick at my cuticles as I wait to hear her chair slide across the floor. But I don't.

I look up to see Carter still looking at me, and she shakes her head. "I chose to sit here, Harry. I'm okay, I promise."

I give her a small nod, but I immediately look back down at my lap.

A few seconds pass before I hear her clear her throat. "I like your hair. I never thought I'd see you with it so short."

I can't help but smile at her words, and I look at her once more. "Yeah? It's not weird without the curls?"

"I mean...it's a little weird," Carter smirks, and I know she's trying to help our playful banter come out again. "But they look like they're on the verge of growing back. I'm enjoying this little faux hawk thing you have going on though."

She lifts her drink to her lips and takes a sip - not flinching away from the liquid this time, so I know it's cooled down properly for her.

"It feels nice," I shrug. "Healthy and all. I buzzed it completely when the divorce was finalized. It was therapeutic, honestly."

"Oh? I wish I could've seen it buzzed," she giggles, pursing her lips to the side before speaking again. "I get the whole changing your hair thing though. I went brunette a few months after I left."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah, let me see. I'm sure I still have some pictures on my phone," she says before digging into her bag.

She swipes on her screen for a while before turning her phone to face me. "See?"

Even though I know it's Carter in this picture, it's not my Carter. She's smiling for the camera, but there's a dimness behind her eyes that I've never seen from her. She was unhappy - that much was clear.

"Oh, wow," I say, giving her a half grin so as to not disappoint her. "It definitely suited you, but I have to be biased when it comes to the red. It's just you."

"Yeah, I like the red too - I like being natural and all that."

She drops her phone back into her purse before I go to speak again.

"So, did you move back by yourself or..."

"Yeah, just me, and my little black cat, Ichabod," I can see her face light up as she mentions her cat, and it causes a warmth in my chest. "I had been seeing this guy for a little over a year, and I broke up with him about...half a year ago now? It just wasn't working out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell her genuinely. "He wasn't bad to you, was he?"

"Oh, no," Carter shakes her head adamantly. "Not at all. He was actually very sweet, but I realized that even though I loved him, I wasn't in love with him anymore. So, I broke it off almost immediately after realizing that. I didn't want to string him along when I wasn't going to be one hundred percent in the relationship."

"And why do you think you weren't?" I ask, and I watch as Carter starts to play with the cardboard sleeve around her cup. "Why do you think you weren't one hundred percent in the relationship?"

Her eyes peer up at me underneath her lashes, but her face is still tilted slightly towards the table. "I think you and I both know why, Harry."

My stomach flutters when I realize what she's alluding to, but I don't want to press that conversation any further. Not here, and not after just seeing her again for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't end up working out. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"What makes you think that just because that ended that I'm unhappy? I'm actually the happiest I've been in a while since moving back," she tells me, but there's no aggression to her tone as she continues her explanation. "I've just been letting life take me where it wants for the most part, and yeah I get lonely sometimes, but it's okay. The quiet doesn't bother me anymore like it used to."

The confidence that I can see in her now is admirable. She's so sure of herself, and I can tell she means what she says.

Carter is happy.

"Can I ask what it was that you handed the barista earlier?" I have a feeling that whatever that was plays into this newfound self that I can see she has.

"Oh, those are just little postcards I make for fun. I do them in series, I guess? Like right now they're all different flowers, and the quotes on the back have to do with either growth, or rebirth," she explains, leaning forward onto the table a bit. "I keep them in my bag, and I hand them out to people who I feel need them, or someone who's shown me kindness that day. It's nice to see their reactions."

Carter has always had a big heart, and it makes me ecstatic to see that hasn't changed despite what those closest to her have put her through.

As happy as it makes me to see her own growth, there's also a part of me that's sad that I missed it. But the guilt is what chews at me the most. The guilt of just letting her slip through my fingers like I did.

"Oh, shit, what's the time?" I hear Carter ask before she pulls out her phone again. "I need to be at the shop in ten minutes. I'm sorry, I've gotta go."

"That's okay, I was just finishing up too. Let me walk you out?" I ask, and she looks over to me after stopping her slightly frantic movements.

"Sure, yeah."

She puts the lid on her drink as I stand and put the strap of my tote over my shoulder, and soon we're both heading towards the entrance of the cafe. I hold the door open for her as we step outside, and we move over onto the sidewalk so that we're not blocking the door as we stop.

"It was really good seeing you, Carter," I tell her honestly. "And I know it might be too much of me to ask, and you can absolutely say no, but do you think we could meet up again sometime?"

Carter chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates my request before she nods. "Yeah, I think that would be okay. I think I'd like that."

I can tell I have the stupidest smile on my face when I hear her agree. "Okay, yeah, uhm, let me just get my phone out for you to put your new-"

"I have the same number," she interrupts me, and I could tell she was a bit hesitant to say that considering she never once responded to me when I tried to reach out. "And I still have your number too."

I don't say anything in response to that because I understand why she did what she did. I give her a nod, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

"Okay, well, I'll text you so we can plan something, alright?"

"That sounds good."

We stand there for a moment, and I can tell neither of us really know how to end the conversation.

"Did you ever get your heart tattoo?" Carter blurts out, and I can see it was something she had been itching to ask me this whole time.

I laugh softly. "You remember that?"

She nods while giving me a small shrug. "It just stuck with me."

"I haven't, no," I say. "I actually haven't gotten anything since before...everything."

"You mean like before the wedding?"

"Yeah," I sigh, running the tip of my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. "Didn't really have the motivation or inspiration to get anything new."

Carter stares at me for a moment before speaking again. "Well, if you want to still get it done, I'd be more than happy to do it for you. Just text me when you're free, and I'll see if it lines up with what I have booked right now."

"Wait, are you serious?" I ask. I'm taken completely by surprise that she would offer to do this so quickly after just seeing each other again.

"Well, you told me you wanted me to be the one to do it, right?" She asks playfully as she bumps her shoulder against mine. "I'm not letting anyone else tattoo that on you."

"I guess when you put it that way," I say as if she's twisting my arm, which causes her to let out a noise of disappointment - having her now shove my arm. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I wouldn't want anyone else doing it for me either."

Carter looks up at me with a beaming smile, and for a moment I'm transported right back - as if things never changed. "Then it's settled. Just text me."

"I will."

She begins to walk away from me before she stops. "Oh, here!"

Walking back over, she digs in her bag and flips through something for a moment before she's extending one of her postcards out to me. "I think this one belongs to you."

I look down at it for a moment, and by the time I look back up, I can already see her back towards me in the distance. Shaking my head at her with a smile of my own, I look back down at the postcard to really study it.

On the front was just a plain line work illustration of a daffodil. I flip it over on the back, and I see this one in particular has two quotes. I read each of them over once, but then I find myself reading them again, and again once I process what they really mean.

"The people who are meant to be will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander." - UNKNOWN

•

"Souls tend to go back to who feels like home." - N.R. HART

⋆★★⋆

It's been a couple of weeks since I saw Carter at the coffee shop, but we had been texting almost every day. I didn't seem too eager, so I didn't text her about booking the tattoo until later that evening, and he she was able to fit me in today. Neither of us made any moves to ask about hanging out outside of my tattoo appointment, but I wanted to so badly.

When I got back to my place after running into her that afternoon, I immediately got on my computer and searched what a daffodil symbolizes. I was met with the answer that it meant 'rebirth and new beginnings' among a few other things, but those stuck out to me the most. She was sending me a signal that maybe we could build this again.

I knew that things were going to be different, it was almost impossible for things to go back to the way they were back then, but I desperately craved to be in Carter's presence again.

Her quote that she handed to me was right. She felt like home.

That was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while - not even when I spent my first Christmas back in Holmes Chapel this past December. It felt weird going back there by myself, but I did find comfort in being back with my mother, especially since the divorce was still pretty fresh. I ended up staying with my parents for a little over a month. I had never been more thankful for my job allowing me to work from home more than during that time.

I didn't realize just how much time I needed away from everything until then. It gave me a chance to help clear my head, and I still met with my therapist over Zoom so that I kept up with my sessions. It wasn't until I got back that I made her aware that I thought I was doing okay on my own, and that I wanted to see her on a per needed basis going forward. She agreed that she thought that was appropriate, and I've only had to see her once since then.

The need to see her came after Gwen was back in town visiting her mother. She told me that after she moved she realized she had taken some stuff of mine, and she wanted to give it back. I had tried to convince her just to leave it on her mother's porch whenever she left, and that I'd come by and grab it once I knew she was gone, but she refused. I was tempted to tell her just to forget it, that I didn't want any of it back, and that was the truth until she rattled off what the box included. It wasn't until she said there was a spiral bound notebook with a tattered red cover that I knew I needed to get that box back.

That notebook was one that Carter and I used to write notes back and forth to each other in during the class where we first met.

It was obvious that Gwen hadn't gone through it. If she had, there was no way she would've wanted to give me something so sentimental back - especially since it included a piece of Carter. When I went over there to get the box from her, she was immediately in my ear the whole time. She was asking if I thought I had made the right decision divorcing her, and if I was happy with myself. She asked if I had found someone new - asked if they felt as good as she did it.

But it wasn't until she brought up Carter that I snapped.

"I swear to god, if you're with my 'pick me' of a little sister, then you're just pathetic," she had said, and that caused me to stop right where I was. I had been trying to get back to my car so I could pack the box up and leave.

"I think you're a bit mistaken, Gwen," I told her as I looked over my shoulder to see her standing there with her hands on her hips. "You've always been the 'pick me' out of the two of you. I thought by now you maybe would've looked in a mirror and seen that you're the problem - not just with me, but with everyone. All I can say is that I'm lucky I can see it now, and I'm glad I got out of our marriage when I did."

That left her completely dumbfounded, and she didn't utter another word as I got into my car and left. I'm hoping that's the last time I'll ever have to see Gwen.

Regardless of how I defended myself and Carter against her, I was still shaken up by the encounter. My therapist was thankfully able to work me in that same day for a visit. She didn't respond much to me - it was more so of a vent session for me anyway. At the end of that session, she told me that I should be proud of finding it within myself to not only see Gwen, but to also stand up to her. That was something I hadn't been able to do at all in my last year with Gwen.

The first six months of marriage was wonderful, but the remaining year was horrific. I had dealt with Gwen coming home and screaming at me almost every day due to stress from her work. It wasn't until things got physical that I knew I had to leave.

At first it was a slap, and she apologized profusely for it - telling me she would never mean to hurt me, and she couldn't explain why she did it. I let it slide because I knew how much pressure she was under. The next time she hit me it was her closed fist connecting harshly with my chest. The final time, she had attempted to throw a vase at my head. She was lucky I was able to move out of the way quickly, and I avoided it.

I left that night, packing up what I absolutely needed, and I told her that I would be back to get the rest of my things. It took me about a week to get everything out, except for that one box of stuff apparently, and I made sure that I checked our Ring camera for movement before going over so I could see if she was at work. I didn't want to see her anymore at all. The thought of being in her presence made my skin crawl.

The whole thing made me wonder if the physical part of her anger was only just towards me, or if she had ever gotten physical like that with Carter. It broke me to think that Carter could've been on the receiving end of her wrath in that way, and I prayed that I was wrong in thinking that it maybe had happened in the past.

I let Gwen keep the house because I didn't want it. I didn't want the awful memories those walls held, and I knew that with the divorce I'd end up getting some money back for it considering we bought it together. Once I got the money from everything, I ended up getting a house of my own. Thankfully Gwen told the courts the divorce was amicable even though she really didn't want it, and the only reason why she agreed to that was because I agreed to not bring up her abuse if she did so.

I just wanted it all to be over. I wanted to start fresh, and I needed to be rid of her.

I'm drawn out of my thoughts when I realize I'm close to the tattoo shop, and I do my best to force the negativity out of my mind. Today was going to be a positive experience. I also think that today is going to set the tone of where things go from here with Carter. I'm hoping the outcome is us trying to rebuild our friendship, but I would be more than understanding if Carter didn't wish to get close with me again in that capacity. She had every right to deny me.

I parallel park on the street right out front of the shop, just across the street, and hop out. Once I'm inside, I'm immediately drawn to her red hair as she stands at her station. I can see that she's applying some second skin to the forearm of the girl sitting on her table.

"Harry, right?" I hear my name being called, and I look over to see Duncan.

"Yeah, that's right," I give him a small nod while sending him a smile. "It's been a while, Duncan. How are you?"

"I've been good, man, really good," Duncan says as he leans against the check-out counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Business has been great, and I just moved into a new house with my wife and little girl. No complaints. How about you? Carter mentioned that you would be coming in."

I can't help but laugh a bit when I try to think of how to answer Duncan's question. I've never been one to dump my feelings on people when they casually ask how you're doing. "I'm getting better," I tell him honestly. "Had some things happen over the past couple of years, but I'm definitely finding myself again."

Duncan doesn't get a chance to respond as Carter starts walking her client up to the counter. "Hi, Harry," she says, her smile growing the closer she gets to me. "I'll be just another minute or so."

"Take your time," I tell her, shoving my hands into my front pockets.

"You can go ahead and wait by my station if you'd like. I'll just need to get everything sanitized once I'm back over there, then we can start," she tells me, and I give her a nod before following her instructions.

I sit down on one of the stools she had over there as I wait for Carter, but I find it hard to keep my eyes off of her from across the shop. It's clear to see that she's definitely gotten more sure of herself over these past few years. She holds a smile the whole time she checks the client out, and I can see this newfound charisma that I caught at the cafe the other day just seeping out of her.

Once she finishes up, she heads back over to me, and I witness a softness pooling in her eyes as she stands next to me. "How are you?"

I stand up from the stool, and out of habit I go to wrap my arms around her. Carter's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't stop me, if anything, she's quick to reciprocate. Her cheek rests against my chest, and I feel her let out a large exhale as her fingers curl into the loose jumper I was wearing.

"I'm good," I speak, finally replying to her question - moving around so my own cheek is now lying on the top of her head. "How about you?"

I feel Carter nod against me for a moment before we separate. "I'm good as well."

She moves away from me to slip on a pair of gloves, and she begins to wipe her table down completely. Once done, she motions for me to sit there, and she starts to get her station ready.

"Are you nervous?" She peeks at me over her shoulder with a smirk before looking back to her task at hand.

"A little bit, actually," I chuckle, running my hands over the tops of my thighs. "It's been a while, and I think I remember how it feels, but I'm questioning if I really do or not."

"Oh god," Carter gasps as she turns around completely, tugging on my jumper to signal it's time to take it off. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?"

I can tell she's still being playful with me, and I shake my head. "I think we're good unless I somehow randomly see someone getting their tongue pierced."

Carter tilts her head back with a large laugh, clapping her hands together as I pull my jumper over my head. I'm wearing a black tank top underneath to make it easier for her to access the inside of my bicep. "I'll make sure to have Duncan tell me if someone comes in for one of those so we can make sure you don't get up to go to the bathroom and pass the piercing room at that time."

I roll my eyes at her while she pulls her hair into a bun on the top of her head as I hang my jumper on the small coat rack she has in the corner.

As I walk back over, I see that Carter is slipping the drawing she's made of the heart I wanted out of the front of her binder. The front of her binder is usually reserved for fun little sketches of hers, much like the ones I first noticed when we were in college. I look at the side of her face as I watch her, knowing she usually keeps her stencils in one of the clear sleeves she had inside.

"Did you just finish that up last night? Is that why it's in the front?" I ask, gesturing to the drawing as I sit down on the side of the table.

Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye as she shakes her head. "Uh no...I've had this done for a while," she says, and she quickly clears her throat. "I just need to get it all prepared, I'll be right back."

My eyes watch her as she goes, but she returns quickly with another fresh pair of gloves on, and the stencil of the heart in her hand. "You said you wanted this on the inside of your bicep, right?"

I nod as I lay back on the table, and I extend my arm out for her. Carter sits down on her stool, rolling over to me before holding the edges of the stencil between the pads of her thumb and index finger on each of her hands. Tilting her head to the side, she tries different positions before it, and I see her eyes light up when she gets it right. She lays the stencil down - smoothing it over to make sure it all gets on my skin.

"Have a look," she says as she pulls it off, and I stand from the table one more to take a look at it in the full length mirror.

I move my arm in all different directions to make sure none of them make it look funny before I nod. "That's perfect, Carter. It looks great."

Once I lay back down on the table, she grabs her gun and scoots as close as possible to me. "You ready?

"Yep," I sigh, looking at the ceiling as I hear the buzzing start.

It's only a few seconds later that I feel that familiar scratch across my skin, and I grimace slightly from how long it's been since I've felt it. I take in a deep breath as I can tell she's trying to warm me up a little bit before she really gets started.

"Doing okay?" Carter checks in on me, giving my upper bicep a reassuring squeeze as she dips back into the ink for a moment.

"Yeah, feels like I remember," I say, earning a small giggle from her.

"Well, that's good then, yeah?"

I nod as she starts up again, and it's silent between the two of us for a while before Carter speaks.

"I've had the heart finished since before...everything," she whispers, and I move my head to the side so I can look at her properly. Her eyes stay focused on her work, but she flicks them up to meet mine for just a moment. "I was going to show you the drawing that night, sort of as a surprise present, I guess."

It's as if I almost feel my heart actually crack in my chest at her confession. I couldn't believe that she had finished it up back then, but I also couldn't believe that she had held onto it for this long. Part of that gives me hope that she was just waiting for the opportunity for us to reconnect at some point, like we have now.

I had thought about her so much since the last time I saw her, but she had grown even heavier on my mind since I started therapy. My therapist really helped me work through my feelings, and the more I worked through them, the more I realized just how much I had fucked up with Carter. I've beaten myself up time, and time again while looking back on how I treated her, and how I allowed her to be treated.

The image of her standing in that groom's suite, begging me to reconsider my marriage is forever engraved in my mind. Her body trembling with her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cowered away from me. I thought that night I found her outside at the formal was going to be the worst I'd ever seen her, and the fact that I was the cause of an even worse reaction than that...I'll never be able to forgive myself. My therapist has told me time and time again that I needed to find it within me to do so, but I don't see how it's possible.

"And I'd really like to talk everything over at some point," Carter speaks up again, but now she keeps her sight down, and off my face. "But for now, I think it would be nice to just get to know each other again, if that's something you're okay with. Once we feel like we're in a comfortable place, then I'd like for us to be able to put it all out on the table. I have a lot I feel like I need to say, and a lot I need to ask."

"I think I'd really like that too, Carter," I agree, reaching my hand out when she stops tattooing me for a moment. I wrap my palm around her forearm, rubbing my thumb against her smooth skin. "You don't know how nervous I've been these past couple of weeks. I was just holding onto hope that you would give me another chance."

"I still have a lot of hurt feelings," she explains as I drop my hand to allow her to start up her work again. "But I also didn't handle things in the right way. I was hoping that seeing each other would open up that opportunity for us to reconnect."

Looking up at me again for just a second, we give each other soft smiles.

It's a couple hours later that Carter finishes up my tattoo completely. My bicep now felt like a bunch of pins and needles, but I didn't want to have to come back for another session. I've always been one to complete my tattoos in one session, if possible. Carter had already let me look at the tattoo, and put the second skin on it before I walked over to the coat rack to grab my jumper.

"Here, let me help you," I hear her say after she disposes of her gloves. "Go ahead and put your arms in, and I'll help pull it down."

I do as she asks, keeping my arms above her head, and only starting to lower them down as I feel her pulling the hem of my jumper down as well. Once it was on properly, she gave me a nod. "I'm going to just clean up really quick since you were my last one of the day, and then I'll meet you at the counter, okay?"

I head over to the lobby section of the shop and sit down on one of the couches, beginning to scroll through my phone as I wait for her. I can hear her holding conversations with a couple of people around the shop over the next few minutes, and finally I hear her calling my name.

Walking over to the counter, she tells me my total, and my eyebrows narrow. "Carter, you know that's not right," I tell her with a small laugh.

"Friends and family discount," she shrugs, giving me a smug smile.

I roll my eyes, but I allow her to charge me what she wants - handing my card over. Once everything was settled, we head out of the shop, and I point to my car that's parked across the street. "That's me."

"That's me," she mimics, pointing to her car that was just a little ways down on the same side of the street.

"I'll walk you."

Carter nods, and I rest my hand against the small of her back to keep her on the inner part of the sidewalk as we make our way towards her car. Once there, she turns to face me, a tender look on her face.

"It was nice getting to tattoo you again," her voice is warm as she speaks, and I feel my stomach fluttering with how sincere she sounds. "I haven't tattooed a friend since Kieran, and that was a couple of years ago, so this was wonderful."

"Well, I'm glad it was you that could give me another tattoo after so long," I tell her, reaching out to rub my hand up and down her arm for a moment before dropping it.

"I'll text you, and maybe we can plan on meeting up to do something sometime next week? The weather is getting warmer, so I was hoping to spend some more time outside."

"Yeah, that sounds great. We can definitely figure something out," I respond, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Before I go, I wanted to give you this," Carter says before digging into her bag, much like she did before she walked away from me at the cafe. "Wait to read it until you're in your car but...I think this explains what I felt all those years ago a little better than I did back then, and how I've felt going forward."

Looking down at the postcard, I see that there's now a line illustration of a nightingale instead of a daffodil. "This drawing is beautiful, Carter."

"Thank you," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat. "I'm sorry to dart off so quickly, but I promised my dad I'd come over and make us some dinner tonight."

"Don't apologize, we practically spent the afternoon together."

We step forward to wrap ourselves in another embrace - all while being mindful of my fresh tattoo.

"You smell the same," I hear Carter whisper after a moment, and I look down to see her snuggling her nose into my chest. "I've missed it."

Swallowing harshly, I force away the tears that want to spring in my eyes. "You smell the same too. I've missed it...missed you so, so much."

I take a chance, and I press my lips against the crown of her head. I feel Carter's cheeks round out against my torso before she's looking up at me with a wide smile. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

We separate, and I stand on the sidewalk to make sure she takes off safely. She waves at me through her window as she drives off, and I make my way over to my car. I'm immediately pulling up google on my phone to look up the symbolism of a nightingale, and the tears I had just wished away come crawling back.

"Found in Persian culture, through poetry and music, the nightingale has been celebrated as a symbol of unrequited love."

I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek as I look out my window, feeling moisture beginning to wet my face. My hand shakes as I continue to hold the postcard, but I can't look back down at it. I'm scared of what the other side, the quote, will bring.

I give myself a moment or two, sniffling softly before I look down - flipping the card over.

"No matter how much you wish you could, you cannot control how another person feels and loves.

Just because someone fails to see your worth, it doesn't make them a bad person, and it doesn't mean you are unlovable. It simply means that they aren't meant for you.

You should never have to spend your days and nights wondering if you are good enough for somebody. You are enough. You are more than enough for the right person.

Always remember that your happiness comes first. Focus on loving yourself, really loving yourself and you will see your value and find the strength to walk away from unrequited love.

Weeks, months, years will pass and you'll look back and wonder why on earth it took you so long to see that all along you deserved everything you always wished you had.

- CHARLOTTE FREEMAN"

⋆★★⋆

It's a Saturday night, and I've been sitting outside of Carter's house for the past fifteen minutes - just staring down at the bundle of daffodils in my hand. My mind is going a mile a minute, and I know I have to calm myself down before I go up and knock on her door. I got here early for this specific reason. I knew that I would probably work myself up, and sure enough, I have.

This was the first time either of us had agreed to meet at one of our houses. Over the past three and a half months, we've been seeing each other only in public spaces.

I was more than okay with us only meeting out in public. We both made the decision to take things slow as we rebuild our relationship with each other, and we both know that this relationship will more than likely be similar to our previous one, but there's no way it could ever be the same.

I think the scariest thing for me was that I found myself falling back in love with Carter easily.

Through therapy I realized that I never really stopped loving her in that way, I had just suppressed my feelings because I thought she didn't feel the same.

Going to therapy made me remember a lot of things I had pushed to the back of my mind when it came to the transition of my feelings for Carter into my feelings for Gwen. I had forgotten about how anytime Carter was out of the house, Gwen was telling me that she was out with a boy. I thought that Carter was hiding a relationship from me, and subconsciously, that's why I hid my relationship with Gwen. It wasn't until years later that I found out that Gwen had been feeding me lies.

Bottom line - Gwen manipulated me our entire relationship.

I know I'm not completely innocent, and that her manipulation isn't a complete excuse for the way that I acted, but it made me realize just how much she lied to me. She did anything she could to keep her hooks in me until she knew she had me fully secured, and then it was already too late with Carter. I had already separated myself from her to keep myself from getting hurt even further, and I had already started to fall in love with Gwen.

I know that I loved Gwen at one point. I know that I was still in love with her even when she hit me, but I know I fell right out of love with her the night she could've caused me irreparable damage.

Fuck, I didn't need to be thinking about all of this right now.

Tucking my chin to my chest, I suck in a deep breath as I lift my hand to pinch at the bridge of my nose. Reminiscing on the past in this very moment wasn't helping me calm down.

Instead I try to focus on the positive. Carter somehow found it in her heart to give me a second chance, and our reconnecting felt different to than I had anticipated. I could tell by the way she looked at me that she felt the same way too. We exchange small intimate touches every now and then, but that's as far as it's gone. I've also noticed that we're a lot more flirty with each other than we used to be. It's almost as if we were a couple that had separated, and now we're trying to figure out if time apart could make it work again. It didn't feel like we were necessarily rebuilding just a friendship.

It wasn't until this past Tuesday when we were sitting on a bench in the park that I asked her to dinner.

Carter had been talking about getting a corn-dog from this street cart for a few days, and I finally suggested to her that we just go and get them together. She was more than ecstatic when I told her that I wanted to go too. She got a regular corn-dog, and I got one with a plant-based hotdog inside. While we sat on the bench, her legs were draped over my lap as she leaned against the arm rest, ankles crossed one over the other.

Her heart shaped sunglasses were perched on her nose as I traced my fingertips up down one of her legs as we ate.

"I'm so happy right now," she said, using her hand to cover her mouth full of food as she spoke - as if she couldn't wait to tell me. "Thank you for coming with me, Harry. We picked such a good day too. It's beautiful out."

I swallowed the bite I was chewing before responding to her. "Of course I was going to come with you. I had to see the look on your face once you finally got your corndog."

The giggle that left her warmed my heart as her nose scrunched up, and I gave her thigh a squeeze. Humming, she let her free hand travel down to wrap around my fingers, and we remained like that for the rest of the time that we ate.

We stayed at the park for about an hour total, and it wasn't until we were about to get up and leave that I finally grew the balls to ask her what I had been wanting to ask her for a few weeks at that point.

That's when I asked her about grabbing dinner together, something we hadn't done yet.

"Yeah, of course we can grab dinner sometime. That would be fun!"

I remember my palms immediately going clammy, and Carter could instantly tell that something was wrong.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her palm found my back, and she began to move in circles.

"Well...I just-" I stumbled over my words like an idiot, finally clearing my throat when I felt like I had myself somewhat together. "How would you feel about considering it a date?"

Even though Carter had her sunglasses on, the lenses were pretty transparent, and I watched as her eyes went wide - her pink lips parting in surprise. I immediately had to look away from her, and I looked down at my hands as I nervously rubbed them together.

"Sorry...I'm sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes tight as if that was going to just make what I had asked disappear. "Forget it. We don't have to. I just ruined this whole fucking thing."

It was a few seconds later that I felt Carter's hand leave my back, and soon her palm was cradling one of my cheeks. She turned my face so I was looking at her - causing me to reluctantly open my eyes.

"It can be a date, Harry," she told me, and I instantly felt a knot form in my stomach. It wasn't out of anxiousness though, it was out of excitement. "I'm a little nervous given the past, but I'd like for it to be a date too."

When we separated that day, she let me give her a kiss on the cheek, and it made me tingle all over when I saw her face flush.

We haven't really spoken about our feelings at all, and we haven't discussed any expectations of each other either. I have a feeling that both of those things are bound to come up tonight. That's probably another reason why I'm so incredibly nervous.

My eyes glance over at the clock, and I see that it's now the time that I told her I would pick her up.

I suck in a deep breath as I get out of the car, my hands shaking as I keep a grip on the daffodils, and I head up to her door. Lifting my finger, I ring her doorbell before taking a small step back so that I'm not crowding her immediately.

The door opens after a moment, and once Carter's eyes connect with mine, a large smile takes over her features. "Hi, H," she says. She looks me over for a moment before looking back at my face. "You look so handsome."

It's as if my breath was sucked from my lungs when she opened that door. The dress she has on fits her perfectly, and she has her hair slightly curled so that it bounces a bit as she moves. I couldn't help but internally laugh out in adoration when I saw she had all black Vans old skools platforms on her feet.

Some things never change.

"Wow, Carter," I breathe, shaking my head. "You look gorgeous."

Carter's face flushes just like it did the other day. "I'm in protest against heels at the moment, so I hope Vans are okay," she says before her eyes drop to the flowers in my hand.

"Oh!" I exclaim with a chuckle, extending them out to her. "These are for you. I was trying to figure out what flowers to get, but these seemed rather fitting."

"Hmm," she hums, giving me a playful grin. "I wonder why."

She peeks over her shoulder for a moment before looking back to me. "I'm just going to put these in some water and then we can go. I'd invite you in, but I know Ichabod's hair is going to cling to you if you come inside and he rubs on you."

"That's alright, take your time," I tell her with a nod.

She shuts the door, and it's only a minute or so later that she's stepping back out. A thin black cardigan is now on her arms, and she has a purse draped over her shoulder. She locks up her door before facing me. "Ready?"

"Ready," I say, placing my hand on her lower back as we make our way to my car.

I open the passenger door for her, which she thanks me for, and I make sure she's in securely before I shut her in. My hands continue to shake as I head over to the driver's side, and I get in before starting the car up.

I can see Carter looking over at me out of the corner of my eye, and she almost instantly reaches out to take one of my hands off the wheel.

"Why are you shaking so bad?" She holds my one hand in both of hers - lazily intertwining one set of her fingers with mine while the fingertips on the other trace over the back of my hand. "We don't have to go anymore if it's going to make you so nervous, Harry. I don't want you to be-"

"No," I shake my head quickly, squeezing my fingers around hers. "I mean, yes, I'm nervous, but I don't want to not do this because of that. I've just...I'm really bad about getting in my head these days, and I just overthink things. I've been overthinking all day."

Carter frowns, and she brings my hand up - pressing her lips against my knuckles. "If it helps at all, I'm really glad that we're doing this. I've been looking forward to it since you asked on Tuesday."

"Yeah?" I ask, feeling her confession ease my nerves some.

"Yeah," she nods, biting down on her bottom lip.

"I can never thank you enough for agreeing."

Carter's eyes wander over my face for a moment before settling back on my own. "I told you...I've missed you. It's been long enough that I'm okay to let myself be open with you again, and I'm sure we'll touch on that more later, but I just know I'm ready for this. Whatever this ends up being after we talk everything out. Okay?"

"Okay," I bring her hand up to my mouth just like she did to me earlier - mimicking her same actions.

I let my lips rest against her skin a little longer than she did mine before I lower our hands back down. I go to pull my hand away so that I can place both hands on the wheel, but Carter tightens her grip. "Can I keep holding it?"

My heart palpitates in the best way at her question, and I feel warmth in my face. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay, good," she giggles before dropping my hand into her lap.

I bite back a larger smile as I put my car in drive, and I start heading towards the restaurant where I had made us reservations for tonight.

Music plays quietly in the car as we make our way down the road, and Carter and I keep stealing glances at each other as we do so. Eventually she moves her other hand down to completely encompass the one she had already been holding once again, alternating between smoothing her fingertips over my knuckles, and then the back of my hand.

I haven't had contact like this from someone in so long, and it feels nice. The tenderness of her touches makes me feel wanted and comforted all at the same time - two feelings that Carter used to bring me previously before everything went to shit.

Our conversation on the way there was light, just asking how our work week went, and she was telling me about a large back piece she had just finished up on a client.

Once we arrive at the restaurant, I open the passenger side of the car for Carter. Instead of letting me just place my hand on her back, she takes my hand in hers - lacing our fingers together. I stroke my thumb along the back of her hand as we head inside, and I can see that Carter is a bit shocked at the place I've picked out.

"Harry," she says, looking up at me with worry. "This place is so nice, and I'm wearing Vans. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you wanted to wear Vans," I respond, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, they look cute on you, and if they want to say something about them, then I don't want to give them my business anyway."

Carter shakes her head briskly at me as we approach the host stand. "Two for Styles."

The host nods and grabs a couple of menus before we're guided to our table. I smile when I see they've remembered to set it up the way I wanted, with two candles lit in the middle, and two glasses of red wine already poured.

I can hear Carter gasp behind me, but she doesn't say anything yet as I pull her chair out for her to sit.

The host places the menus down as I sit as well, and I thank them before they walk away. I keep my eyes down on the menu that was placed in front of me, but I can feel Carter's on me.

"Harry," she speaks up after a moment, sweetness laced throughout her tone. "Did you have them do this for us?"

I nibble on my bottom lip before nodding. "Yeah, I did. I just wanted tonight to be special. For you...for us."

Carter reaches out across the table, curling her hand around mine. "Thank you so much. This was a nice surprise, and this restaurant is beautiful."

She gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away, and we begin to properly look over our menus.

"What are you thinking?" Carter asks, and I tilt my head to the side.

"I'm eying the pasta pescatore, how about you?"

"I think I'll do the lobster and mushroom risotto," I look up as she twirls a curl around her finger - lips pursed to the side.

I'm completely captivated by the way the candlelight hits her face, capturing her beauty in a way that has my stomach swirling.

After a moment, a waiter comes over with a couple of waters to accompany our wine, and he asks if we're ready to order.

"You first," I say, gesturing my hand towards, and Carter smiles.

We each order our food, and the waiter heads off as we grab our glasses of wine. I clear my throat, my other hand gripping to my knee as Carter's round eyes stare at me.

"This might seem silly, but I just wanted to say a couple of things," I chuckle nervously.

Carter gives me a reassuring nod before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

"First off, I want to thank you again for saying 'yes' to dinner, and especially having it be a date. I'm really trying to be more straightforward with my feelings in general, but especially when it comes to you now that we've reconnected," I start off, my fingers curling tighter to my glass as I feel I could drop it at any moment. "I also wanted you to know that these past few weeks of getting to see you again have been the best weeks I've had in the past two years or so.

"Like you said before, I know there's still a lot that's left unsaid on both of our parts, but I really don't know what I would do if I lost you again, Carter. Losing you the first time completely changed me as a person, even though I didn't see it at the time. But with that being said, if you realize that this isn't going to work out, and this isn't what you want, then you walk away whenever you want. Put yourself first - always."

Carter blinks at me, and I can tell that I've caught her off guard with my words, but telling her that the ball was in her court when it came to us was something I needed her to know. I didn't want her to let the guilt of knowing I'd be upset to lose her again be the cause of her putting herself into something she didn't want.

"Wow, Harry," she opens and closes her mouth a couple times - clearly trying to figure out how to respond. "These few weeks have been really great for me too, and like I told you, I've missed you. I allowed for this to be a date just as much as you did, so I hope you don't feel like you forced me to label it as that.

As of right now, I'm more than happy with how things are going, but I can't lie to you and say that may change after we really talk things out. I don't think it will, but I just want you to know that's a possibility, okay?"

I move my head in agreement with her words. "Of course, Carter - of course."

I watch her shoulders deflate, as if she's let out a sigh of relief before we're both extending our glasses forward - clinking them together.

"To us," she speaks up first, a large smile back on her face.

"To us."

We each sip our wine, and she hums out in appreciation. "Oh my god, Harry," she licks over her bottom lip. "This wine is delicious."

"Yeah? I went over their selection online, and I tried to pick out what I remembered you liking."

"It's perfect. Thank you."

I watch as she looks around the restaurant a bit before looking back over to me. "Well, I guess now is as good of a time as any to start, huh?"

"If you're ready, then absolutely," I reassure her.

"I should probably start with me figuring things out about my mom and Gwen since that all ties in to how everything happened, especially with us," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. "One of the first things my therapist had me focus on was my emotions towards them, but most importantly their emotions towards me.

"She had me write down times throughout my life where my mom yelled at me, which wasn't often, but I came to the conclusion that she only ever did when it involved something with Gwen. Whether it be me trying to play with one of her toys, or if Gwen and I were fighting about her borrowing something of mine when Gwen knew that I would be needing it, my mother always took Gwen's side - even when she was clearly wrong."

Reaching forward, she takes a large sip of wine before she continues. "I also realized that my mom and Gwen have extremely jealous tendencies. So, when the wedding came around, it was such a big thing for Gwen, and the way they treated me just magnified. They wanted it to go perfectly for her, and they didn't want me to ruin it. That's when I became their pin cushion."

I grimace at her use of words, but I know she's not wrong.

"Also, I don't know if Gwen ever told you, but she caught me leaving the groom's suite that day," she places her hands on the table, and I can see they're slightly trembling. "She told me she knew of my feelings for you, that she always did, and she couldn't believe I told you on your wedding day of all days. That's when she said she never wanted to see me again, and for me to stay away from you both. I listened to her because I knew you loved her, and I knew she made you happy, and I didn't want to take that away from you."

My heart aches at her words. Gwen never told me she had seen her after her confession to me. I didn't know that she ever knew that Carter had feelings for me.

"She didn't tell me," I whispered, shaking my head.

"I also need to apologize to you, Harry. I need to tell you sorry for never telling you my feelings sooner, and I also need to tell you I'm sorry for when I chose to tell you about them," I can see tears are now gathering in Carter's eyes, and she takes a minute to collect herself before she's blinking them away.

"I never wanted to tell you about my feelings because I didn't want to ruin what we had, but it seems that's exactly what I did because I waited so long. Maybe if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would've ever happened, and I-"

"Carter, I'm going to stop you right there," I butt in, not being able to listen to her blaming herself in this way. "Do not apologize to me for that. I won't let you blame yourself for what happened. There's only one person to blame for our friendship falling apart, and that's me."

Carter keeps quiet as I continue. "I should've never let Gwen keep me from you like she did, and I should've never let her treat you the way she did. Things would've been different if I had put my foot down. If I had refused to let her wedge her way between us, but I didn't do that.

"She fed me lies our entire relationship when it came to you. She knew I liked you, she revealed that to me during our divorce process. Whenever you were out of the house hanging out with Kieran, she told me you were seeing different guys, and I don't know why I believed her. Then she started dropping hints that she liked me. One thing led to another, and it just happened. The last thing she really lied to me about was her trying to contact you after the wedding. She led me to believe that she was trying just as hard as I was to reach you, and in our last big fight, I found out that wasn't the case."

Now I'm the one reaching for my glass of wine, taking two large sips. "I realized in therapy that I never truly lost my feelings for you, Carter. I just shoved them down, and I suppressed them once I started having feelings for Gwen. I convinced myself that they were gone because how could I love two people at once? But, my love for you was never like my love for Gwen. The love I had for you..."

I swallow harshly before I look down at my lap, shaking my head. It's only a second later that I feel the tips of Carter's fingers brushing over my knuckles.

"Tell me, please."

Looking back up, I meet her eyes, and I can tell she's pleading with me to be honest. It was hard to act like I was talking about the past. My love for has only grown more since being around her again.

"It was everything. Even if I didn't think it was reciprocated, and even though I didn't even tell you about it."

Carter opens her mouth to speak, but we're interrupted by the waiter setting out dishes down in front of us. We each thank him, placing our napkins into our laps as we grab our silverware.

"Let's just enjoy our meals for now," I reach out to grab her hand, and I kiss the back of it quickly. "And if we want to talk more later, we can."

"Okay," Carter breathes, and we both begin to dig into our food.

The rest of our time at the restaurant consists of us talking about much lighter topics while stealing bites of each other's food.

Now we're sitting outside of her house in my car, my hand placed on the inside of Carter's knee as she twists my rings around my fingers.

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about before I head in?" Carter rests her head back against the headrest, looking over at me.

I know that what I'm about to bring up is serious, but it's something that's eaten away at me for too long.

"I didn't want to ask in the restaurant, and you can decline to answer if it's too personal, but it's something that's been weighing on me. Did...did Gwen ever get physical with you when you guys would argue?"

I'm hesitant to look at her, but I'm met with narrowed brows on her face. "I mean, we used to wrestle as little kids, but when we got older, no," she shakes her head. "Why? Did she get physical with you?"

I stay silent as I look down to stare at my steering wheel, and I can hear Carter inhale sharply when I don't answer after a moment.

It's not even a second later that I feel her arms around me, and she's pulling my face into her neck. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I feel tears welling in my eyes as I lift a hand to wrap around her wrist. I feel her nails scraping against my scalp to comfort me as her other hand caresses my back.

"You didn't deserve that. You'll never deserve that."

We stay in the same position for a while as she continues to comfort me silently before she speaks again. "You know that right? That you didn't deserve that?"

I nod, sniffling as I lift my hand up - pushing the tears off my cheeks with the heel of my palm as I sit back. "I know. I know I didn't deserve it."

"Good," Carter says softly, and I can see the worry behind her eyes as she stares at me.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she grabs her purse that was on the floorboard, and she shuffles through it. She looks back over to me, and that's when I see she has another postcard in her hand. "I had two of these in my bag tonight. I figured this whole thing could've gone one way or the other. "

She extends the card out to me, and I take it from her. I look down to see a line illustration of a butterfly on the front. I know that she did this on purpose because we each have butterfly tattoos, and it has me feeling hopeful.

"Will this quote tell me which way it went?" I ask her with a soft chuckle, and it causes her to giggle as well while she shrugs.

"Flip it over and find out."

Taking in a deep breath, I flip the postcard over, and I read over the quote a few times to really take it in.

"Rewinding time is not possible, but "do-over's" are. Sometimes we get another chance to do something right the second time that we got wrong the first time." - UNKNOWN

I look back over to her after a moment, and her expression is one filled with such kindness that I feel like I could cry again. "In case that wasn't enough to tell you...would you like to come in?"

My eyebrows raise, as I'm a bit shocked that she was asking me to do so, but I didn't give her any time to think that I was hesitating. "Yeah, yes, please," I laugh nervously, and she tilts her head.

"Come on then."

We both get out of the car, and we head up to the door which she unlocks. As we walk inside, she flips on some lights, and I instantly hear small thumps coming from her hallway while we take off our shoes.

"Hello, Mr. Crane," Carter coos as she lowers herself down to pet the petite black cat that's come to greet her. "This is Ichabod."

The image in front of me has my heart completely bursting from how sweet it is, and I follow Carter's actions - bending down to be closer to them both. "Hello Ichabod, I'm Harry."

I hold my hand out, and Ichabod sniffs it for a bit before rubbing back across the front of Carter's legs for a while, but he keeps his eyes on me.

"He's really nice, I promise," Carter says as she continues to rub over his back, and eventually Ichabod makes his way over to me.

I begin to scratch underneath his chin, and behind his ears as Carter stands.

"Do you want some more wine?"

Glancing over, I watch as she walks into her kitchen - loose red curls bouncing as she goes.

"Yeah, I'll have another glass," I tell her, giving Ichabod a few more pets before standing up myself. "Just one is probably good though considering I have to drive."

"What do you think I'm trying to do? Get you drunk so you have to stay over?" Carter looks at me over her shoulder with a shiteating smirk, and I shake my head at her. Knowing that the atmosphere around us has turned playful, I decide to feed into it as well.

"I don't know," I shrug before crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against one of her counters. "Are you?"

Carter hums as she turns back around to grab a bottle of wine out of her wine fridge, and then she walks over to the cabinet housing her wine glasses. "I mean, would you staying be the absolute worst thing in the world?"

My adrenaline perks up slightly at her words, and I quickly clear my throat. "No, I-I don't think that, I just didn't know-"

"Harry," Carter walks over to the counter next to the one I was leaning against - setting the glasses down. "I was just kidding. You didn't think I was that easy, did you?"

Groaning, I look up to the ceiling as I smile.

She's really busting my balls here.

"I'm not used to being one step ahead of you when it comes to picking on each other," she bumps her hip against mine to have me looking down at her again. "I guess I'm making up for all those years you had me blushing like an idiot."

"Yeah, now that's me," I laugh, leaning down to pinch at her waist - causing her to yelp.

Carter eventually uncorks the bottle, and she pours us each a glass of wine as we move over to sit on the couch. Ichabod makes his way over to the cat tree in the corner of the living room, and he makes his way to the top tier - quickly curling into himself and falling asleep.

"He's so cute," I compliment her. "How old is he?"

"Just a little over a year old," she says, looking over to the cat tree for a moment before looking over to me. "I actually found him outside of the shop I was working at while I was gone."

"You're kidding."

Carter shakes her head, swallowing down her sip of wine before continuing. "It was early spring, and it was raining so bad outside. It was chilly, and windy on top of that. I was closing up the shop, and I went around back to throw the trash into the dumpster before getting in my car, and I could hear him crying underneath it after I threw the bag inside.

"I pulled my phone out so I could use my flashlight, and I looked under, and there he was. He was by himself, and shaking, and I knew I couldn't leave him. To be honest, I didn't think I'd have the time to take on a kitten, so I had every intention of keeping him for a few days to get him better before taking him to the shelter. As you can see, I got way too attached and that didn't happen. It worked out for the both of us though. I don't know what I would do without him. He's my little buddy."

"You know it's funny, I had been contemplating getting a cat myself before I ran into you," I tell her. "Now you've kind of convinced me that I need one. The house is so quiet by myself."

"I definitely get what you mean. I've lived alone since I first moved away, and now I couldn't imagine not hearing his little paws on the floors, or hearing him eating his food in the kitchen while I'm sketching at my dining table. You should get one, H," she says, tapping her foot against my thigh. "They're a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I think I might," I say, dropping my hand to wrap it around her foot, running the pad of my thumb over the arch of it. "Would you come to the shelter with me?"

"Of course! I'd love to. Plus, I think I should have a say considering they're going to be around Mr. Crane. I need to make sure they're a suitable candidate for his friendship," she smirks, taking another sip of wine.

"That's fair enough."

It's quiet for a moment before she makes a small noise as she swallows her sip - as if she's remembered something. "Hold on, I'll be right back."

Carter sets her wine glass down on the table, and she slips down the hallway for a moment. I can't help but smile to myself as she's gone - not believing that I'm in her home with her right now, us sharing wine together and talking as if nothing has changed.

This is all I've wanted for so long.

I hear her coming back after a minute or so, and she sits down while passing me a piece of paper. As I study the piece of paper, I see she picks her wine glass back up, and she moves to drape her legs over my lap like she did in the park the other day.

"I drew that while I was in therapy," she said, tapping her fingertips against her glass. "She told me to draw something that provided me comfort in the past, and I came up with this. While I was drawing it, I was thinking of how you used to always hold my hand when we were out with friends if you could tell I wasn't having a good time, or if something was making me anxious. I've been meaning to bring it to show you when we've been hanging out, I just kept forgetting."

My eyes study the drawing, and I wait to ask what immediately comes to mind. "Do you think you could tattoo this on me?"

Carter's eyes look like they're about to bulge out of her head once I look back to her. "What?"

"I really like it, and you drew it perfectly. It reminds me of us too," I nod. "I'd really like for you to tattoo it on me, if you're comfortable with that."

"Harry, you know I'm always more than happy to ink you up. I'm just a little shocked - that's all. I'm more than comfortable with you getting it."

"Maybe in a couple months? I'm thinking on the back of my arm," I tilt my head to the side as I continue to stare at the drawing of two hands holding.

"I think that will look really good, H."

I only intended on staying at Carter's for maybe an hour at the most, but as she indulged in another glass of wine, I decided to stay so she could tell me all about the city she had been living in before moving back home. It was interesting to hear about the life she had without me in it, and I was actually able to listen to her talk about it without feeling a sadness in my chest.

I have her back now, and that's what matters.

Looking over to the clock, I can see it's nearing midnight, and I know it's time to go home.

"Well, I should probably get going," I sigh as I finish up my glass of wine. Only having the one glass at dinner, and then the two glasses here, I was more than fine to drive - especially with pasta sitting in my stomach.

"Oh, only if you're sure," Carter says, setting her almost finished wine down on the coffee table as I stand up. "You're not keeping me up or anything."

"I know, but I don't want to overstay my welcome," I chuckle, walking to set my empty wine glass in the sink in her kitchen.

When I walk back over Ichabod hops off his cat tree and follows me towards the door, circling my feet as he looks up at me.

"I think somebody doesn't want you to leave," Carter giggles as she walks closer to me, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.

"I'm sure I'll see you again soon, bud," I kneel down to give Ichabod a few head scratches before I stand up and look over at Carter. "Do you think that we could do this again?"

"Harry," Carter closes all space between us as she drops her hands to the side. "Have I not made it obvious enough that I more than enjoyed myself tonight? I would absolutely love to do this again."

I let out a small laugh of relief, scratching the back of my neck for a moment while looking down at my feet. Pursing my lips to the side, I look back up at Carter. "Can I kiss you?"

I can tell my request takes Carter by surprise, and I immediately feel like an idiot. "Shit, I'm sorry," I apologize. "I didn't mean to be so forward. You just look so beautiful, and I had such a good time that I thought maybe-"

I'm cut off when I feel Carter's hands cupping my cheeks as she pushes herself on her tiptoes, her taking the complete initiative to have her lips meet mine.

After a moment, I hum in satisfaction, and I drop my arms to wrap them around her. One of them wraps around her waist, while the other curls to the middle of her torso - my hand pressing against her shoulder blades to keep her flush against me. Carter is much shorter than me, and I can tell she's struggling to stay on her toes, so I gently lift her off the floor just a bit using the strength in my arm around her waist - causing her to squeal against my lips.

"Stay," Carter whispers, as she pulls away, her eyes dancing over my face. "Please stay."

My mouth runs dry when I realize exactly what she's saying, and I don't hesitate to give her a nod. "Okay, I'll stay."

Carter smiles, and I reach down to have both arms around her waist before I'm pulling her up higher. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her legs around my hips, as she leans down to reconnect our lips. "Bedroom is at the end of the hall," she mumbles against them.

I follow her orders, carrying her with ease down the hallway until we're in her room. After a few more moments of letting our lips mold against one another, I lower her down so that she's standing in front of me again.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"I'm sure," Carter says as she takes a step back, peeling her cardigan off her shoulders. "Take your clothes off."

My cock twitches in my pants at her words, and it takes a minute for my body to catch up with my mind. I pull my vest off and toss it to the side before I start to undo the buttons of my dress shirt. I watch as she reaches up to undo the ribbon tied at the top of her dress, pulling it so that it loosens, and she's able to slip her arms out of the material. She pauses for a minute with her hand pressed against her chest to still keep her dress up, watching me with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

I shrug my shirt off before I reach down to my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them - leaving me in just my briefs.

Carter drops her dress, and my breath catches in the back of my throat when I see that her top is completely bare - only a black lace long left on her body. "This...this isn't weird for you, is it?"

I shake my head as I walk forward, my eyes shamelessly roaming over her. I'm taking her all in, as if she could disappear, or like I could wake at any moment - like this was all a dream.

"It's not weird at all," I tell her honestly, and Carter reaches out to wrap her hands around my wrists.

Her head tilts to the side as she moves me around until my hands are on her full breasts, and I sigh as I run the pads of my thumbs over her pebbled nipples. She gasps while throwing her head back - her eyes slipping shut.

Hearing that sound leave her, and seeing that just the smallest touch was bringing her such pleasure, it's like something in me snaps. I walk forward to where she's back against her dresser, and her eyes shoot open.

Carter watches me as I begin to lower myself down her body, pressing kisses to her neck and over her sternum. Once I reach her breasts, I rest the undersides of them in my palms before closing my lips around one of her nipples. She lets out a breathy moan, but we don't sever eye contact. Her hands wrap around the edge of her dresser, her elbows slightly pointed up to her ceiling as I pay the same amount of attention to her other nipple.

"Harry," my name leaving her mouth has me humming against her skin, and she rolls her head on her shoulders for just a moment before her eyes are right back on mine.

Abandoning her chest, I slip all the way down so I'm kneeling in front of her as I kiss over her stomach - hooking my fingers into the sides of her thong. I still hold her eyes, silently asking for permission, and she gives me a nod. I continue to sponge kisses down her body, all while pulling her underwear down at the same time. She's squirming underneath me, and I can tell she's aching for more now.

Once her underwear hit the floor, Carter lifts one leg to step out, but when she lifts the other, I quickly wrap my hand around her ankle - throwing her leg over my shoulder as I toss her underwear to the side.

"Can I taste you, Carter?" I ask, my eyes slipping shut for the first time since I've had my hands on her - the smell of her arousal filling my nose while I latch my lips to the inside of her thigh.

"Please," she whines, and my mouth finds its way between her legs before I can even process. “Oh, god."

One of Carter's hands leaves the dresser to make its home on the back of my head as she arches into me. My tongue is immediately met with her wetness, and I groan at just how much had accrued in such a short amount of time. I lick my way back up until I'm sucking her clit between my lips, and I open my eyes to look up at her.

Her head is back as she pants into the air, her face displaying absolute pleasure as I lift my hand to massage her thigh that's resting beside my head. My touch alerts her, and she looks down at me with pink cheeks.

"Good. 'S so good," she moans deliriously before she tilts her head to the side to rest her cheek on her shoulder - eyes slipping shut again.

I move back down to lap at her dripping entrance before I plunge my tongue inside - teeth scraping over her swollen clit. A strangled, but loud "uh" leaves her as she now curls forward, and the hand on the back of my head is pushing me even further into her core while her other hand drops to grip at my shoulder not cradling her thigh.

Everything about this is causing me to leak profusely into my briefs, and I know that I'm the hardest I've been in a long time. I creep my hand up from her thigh to grip one of the rounds of her ass - feeling her skin pushing through the gaps between my fingers.

"Wait, w-wait," I hear Carter gasp, and I pull away immediately. She sees the look of worry on my face, causing her to laugh breathlessly. "You didn't do anything wrong, don't worry. I just want to make you come twice."

I close my eyes and drop a hand to my briefs to apply pressure to my throbbing bulge at her words - willing away the urge to come right then. After a moment, I feel her slip her leg off my shoulder, pulling my cheek to rest against her stomach as she runs her fingers through the top of my hair.

"Can I do that for you, Harry? Can I have you come in my mouth, and then while you recuperate, you can make me come?" She slides one hand down my back - nails grazing against my skin. "And then when I come, I'll need you inside me, and I hope you'll be hard again. I want you so bad."

I turn my face to kiss along her stomach much like I did before. I'm riddled speechless by her want for me. It had been so long since anyone had talked about me in such a way, and it was causing me to feel so many different emotions.

"Please, baby," Carter whispers, and I slowly feel her lowering her body. I blink my eyes open to see her kneeling in front of me - moving her hands to cradle my face. "Let me make you feel good."

The pet name she uses ignites a fire in me, and I wrap my arms around her to pull her forward - having her thighs straddle one of my own as I press my lips against hers. Her thumbs swipe over my cheek as we kiss, and I tangle one of my hands into the back of her hair. Our lips part to have our tongues rolling against one another which causes goosebumps to coat my skin. We make our way off the ground, but we don't let our lips disconnect as she lays me down on the bed.

My hands wander all over her body as our tongues ebb and flow, and I give her plush hips a squeeze before she's pulling away from me. She runs her lips down my body, and just like I did earlier to her, she starts pulling on the waistband of my briefs.

"Lift your hips," she tells me, and I blindly obey.

Once my briefs are down to the tops of my thighs, my prick springs out and slaps against my stomach - smearing precome onto my skin.

"Shit," Carter's mouth gapes as she stares at me, and I feel myself twitch under her gaze.

She makes quick work of getting my briefs the rest of the way down before pushing herself between my legs. She's knelt down, back arched to have her plump ass in the air - right in my line of vision.

"Fuck, Carter," I whisper, feeling myself leaking even more at the sight. "You're so sexy. I don't think I've ever been this hard."

Carter licks over her bottom lip as she wraps her hand around my dripping cock, her other hand snaking up my chest to rest over one of my pecs - her palm grazing over my taut nipple. She works the hand on my prick up to gather my precome onto her hand before she slicks it down my length. Beginning to pump me, she nuzzles her nose into the trimmed hairs framing my base.

"I can't tell you how long I've wanted this," she tells me, planting kisses all around me.

I try to keep my eyes on her for as long as possible, but the pleasure is overwhelming. If she didn't get her mouth on me in the next few seconds, I was going to end up coming all over my stomach and her hand.

"I can't believe you're even more toned than before," she plants a kiss against my balls, causing my stomach to clench. "So pretty. Everything about you is pretty. You have a pretty face, a pretty body, and a pretty cock."

Her words have me moaning as my toes curl into the fabric of her comforter. I never once would've guessed that Carter was so vocal in the bedroom, and it's causing my head to spin. She was a true vision, and I found myself so lucky to be underneath her at this very moment.

I can't help but slip my eyes shut once her mouth is on my tip, and she lowers herself halfway down my shaft before pulling back up. I find myself biting down on the insides of my cheeks as she kitten licks at my slit - resulting in more precome pouring out of me.

"Carter," I gasp, one hand gripping to the pillow case my head was resting on while the other reached out to wrap her hair around my palm. "I'm not going to last very long right now."

She kisses my tip before I feel her nudge the side of her nose against it. "That's okay. This is about you right now. If you come in five seconds, I don't care."

Carter's mouth closes against me once again, and this time she lowers herself almost all the way down. I feel the tip of her nose against my happy trail as she zig zags her tongue along the underside of my shaft, and I can feel the ball of her tongue piercing pressing against every vein in her wake.

She bobs her head up and down before she presses all the way down, and I feel her swallow around me.

"Fuck," I choke on a moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I try to make this last as long as possible. "You're so fucking good at this."

Carter hums in response, causing a vibration up my shaft which has my abs jumping. I now feel my orgasm truly building in my lower abdomen. She pulls up to where just my tip is in her mouth, and I flutter my eyes open to see her looking at me - wiggling her ass in the air. She keeps me stable with one hand, and she parts her lips to show me that my tip is just resting against her tongue.

She shakes her head from side to side for a moment before she focuses on rolling the ball of her piercing over the prominent vein right underneath my tip again and again.

"I'm gonna come," I strangle out, my hand tightening in her hair. "I can't hold it."

Carter holds my eyes as she closes her mouth around me again, and she uses the hand that was holding me in place to start pumping me once more. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I feel myself releasing onto her tongue, groaning out as I buck my hips up subconsciously. It causes a small squeal to leave her, and if I was in the right stand of mind I'd immediately be apologizing, but my brain has gone completely fuzzy. She guides me through my orgasm fully, and I wince in sensitivity as I feel how tight she has her lips against me to make sure none spills out.

My eyes blink open just in time to see her popping off me entirely, and I watch as she swallows - the smallest bit of my come seeping from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darts out to collect it while she begins to rub her hands up and down the tops of my thighs.

"You okay?" She asks, moving her way up my body so that she's hovering over me.

"I'm more than okay," I laugh, causing one to leave Carter as well. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck. "Come here."

I pull her down to meet my mouth again, and I hum as I taste myself on her tongue. As we kiss, I turn us over to where she's now underneath me. She hikes one of her knees up against my hip while resting her hands on the sides of my neck. Using one hand to hold up the crease of her leg, I dance my other one down between her legs.

I cup her cunt in my hand and give it a squeeze, causing her to gasp against my mouth. Smirking softly, I curl my middle and ring fingers to slip the tips of them through her drenched slit, and I'm almost certain I could already get hard again when she immediately coats my fingers in her arousal.

"You got so wet, Carter," I lick at her top lip before bumping the tip of my nose against hers. "Did getting me off turn you on that much?"

She nods, her hands beginning to roam all over my torso. "Sexiest thing I've ever seen was your face when you came just now."

"You're giving me an ego," I tell her, nipping my teeth against her jawline.

"You deserve to have one," she breathes as I feel her nails digging into my skin.

Swirling my fingertips around her entrance, I let her get accustomed to the feeling before I'm easily gliding them inside of her due to how open she already is for me. She mewls while automatically lifting her hips to meet my fingers, and I help satisfy her even more by tapping against her spongy spot.

"Yes," she whines, her chest now flush against mine - hard nipples grazing my skin. "Please, Harry, don't stop."

"I'm not going to, baby," I assure her, sucking on the junction where her neck and shoulder meet. "Not stopping until your come is covering my fingers, understood?"

"Mhmm," she lets out a high pitched hum as I begin to thrust my fingers in and out of her, making sure to continue curling them every now and again. "I understand."

Carter's heavy breathing fills the room once more as writhes underneath me. I can feel her clenching around me in what seems like intervals, and I know she's probably just as close as I was once she got her mouth on me.

"God, I can't believe I get to have you like this right now," I tell her, testing the waters to see if talking turns her on like it does for me. "Never thought this would be a reality for me. I thought I fucked up so bad that you'd never speak to me again, and now I've got you naked and open for me. I'm the luckiest man in the whole world to be here with you."

She cries out as I drop my hand from her leg to slip between our chests so I can roll one of her nipples between my index finger and my thumb. I can see a sheen of sweat forming on her hairline, and I slip a third finger into her to try to get her to her climax faster - not wanting her to feel like I was teasing too much.

"Harry," she whimpers, opening her eyes to look up at me.

"You're right there, hm?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, and I watch as he nods in response to me. "Come on, flower. Let go for me."

The old nickname I used to call her seems to be what sends her over the edge.

Carter's head tilts slightly back, and I watch as her lips part. A lewd moan starts to escape her as I feel her completely clamp down on my fingers, but I don't take my eyes off her face. She keeps her eyes on me as she comes, her orgasm coating me just like I asked as I continue to ride her through it. She wiggles her hips, as if she's trying to move away from, and that's when I remove my fingers - knowing that she's coming back down.

Her eyes watch my every move as I bring my fingers up to my mouth, sealing my lips around them as I suck them clean. I close my eyes once I have her taste on my tongue again, swallowing down a moan so I don't look absolutely pathetic.

I open my eyes to look down at Carter, and I see her smiling up at me. "Thank you," her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. "That felt so good."

Looking down at the same time, we both see that my cock is about half hard, but I know it won't take much longer for me to get fully there when I know where this is going next. I lower myself down to kiss her body like I had before, and I take the time to really examine her skin.

"You got a lot of new tattoos," I say, giving one of her breasts a small squeeze.

"Mhmm," she hums, wrapping one hand around my forearm that was connected to the hand on her chest - rubbing her palm up and down my skin. "A pretty good amount, I'd say."

Lowering myself down onto her, I begin to press my lips over the ones that I know I haven't seen, whispering 'new' as I do so. It causes Carter to giggle as I locate each one, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches me closely, but her smile still shines through.

"I have another," she tells me, tapping me to lift up a bit before she flips over onto her stomach.

I look down and see ink right under the crease between one of her ass cheeks and her thigh. "Also new."

Smirking, I lean down to press my lips against that one as well as she looks at me over her shoulder. I trail my lips up just slightly, biting down playfully on her ass cheek - causing a laughter filled squeal to leave her, and I feel her lightly kicking her feet.

I lift up onto my knees, grasping her hips to flip her over once more, and I feel that I've grown fully hard again.

"You're really sure, Carter?" I ask her, and she nods.

"I've never been so sure about something before. I want you, Harry. Fuck, I need you. I think I'll cry if you're not in me in the next few minutes."

That causes me to chuckle softly. "I'm going to put on some music, is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

I stand up from the bed and grab my phone that's in my pants pocket. Flipping through my apps, I locate Spotify and quickly search the song I had in mind. Once I find it, I place my phone on her nightstand before crawling back over her. The intro starts, and my eyes wander over Carter's face before the vocals kick in.

"I get so lost, sometimes. Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart. When I want to run away I drive off in my car, but whichever way I go I come back to the place you are."

"Harry," she whispers as she trails her fingertips down my biceps, and I see tears filling her eyes.

"Don't cry, please," I lean down to press a kiss against each of her cheeks. "It's how I've pictured this moment for so long."

"You mean to this song?"

"To this song," I nod, reaching down to massage her hips in each of my hands. "This is how I felt about you then, and I haven't been completely honest with you because...this is also how I feel about you now too. I meant what I said earlier. You mean everything to me, Carter Adams."

"How are you going to tell me not to cry, and then say something like that?" Carter laughs, but I can hear the tears filling it.

"Sorry, I just needed to let you know," I lean down to press my lips gently against hers before pulling back just slightly. "Do you have a condom?"

"I do, but...are you okay if we don't use one? I have an IUD, and I'm clean. I got checked after my break up, and I haven't been with anyone since," she cradles my jaw in her palms, the pad of her thumb brushing over my lips. "I just really want to feel you."

"I'm clean as well," I nod, running my hands down from her hips to the outside of her thighs to pull her knees up against me once more. "I'd really like to feel you completely too, Carter."

Reaching out, I grab a pillow from the other side of the bed that she wasn't lying on, and I slip it underneath her hips to have her angled up slightly. "Good?"

"Good," she responds, and I can tell that we're both a bit nervous now that we know this is actually going to happen.

With one hand cupping her waist, I wrap my other hand around my length to guide myself to her. I allow my tip to run through her folds to collect her arousal for a moment before I'm pushing inside. My jaw goes slack, and I choke on a groan when I feel just how tight she is around me with me barely being inside.

"Oh," she moans, grasping to the creases of my arms.

I look up from where we're connected to check on Carter, and she gives me a nod - telling me silently to keep going. I'm slow as I continue to push forward, and once I'm completely inside, I hear a flooded whine leave her.

"H-Harry," she says, and she's immediately demanding my attention when I hear how much emotion is behind my name. "I love you."

Those three words that I never thought I'd hear her say to me again, at least not in context, have me crumbling.

My bottom lip trembles as I cup her cheek in my hand. "I love you too, Carter. I love you so much."

Leaning down, I connect our lips in a passionate kiss, neither of us caring as we feel our tears smearing over each other's cheeks. We stay still for a while, hands caressing each other's bodies while our tongues melt together. It was incredible how perfectly we fit together, and my heart was pounding against my chest due to the intimacy that was surrounding us in every way imaginable.

Our mouths separate with a large 'smack' bouncing off the walls, and smiles are immediately pulling at the corners of our lips.

"I'm gonna start moving, okay?"

"Okay," Carter gives my arms a squeeze, and I draw my hips back halfway before allowing myself to fill her to the brim again.

She sighs out, leaning her head to the side to press her lips against my heart tattoo. My eyes catch hers, and she sends me another soft smile. "New," she mumbles against my skin.

That small gesture has a knot forming in my throat again, but I power through. The only thing I want right now is to give her even more pleasure than I did before. I want to show her how much I love her now, and how much I loved her even before.

After a few more moments of letting her adjust, I begin to fall into a rhythm of plunging my slick cock in and out of her weeping cunt. Carter's walls flutter around me every time I'm fully sheathed back inside, and I look down to see her clit all puffy and inviting. I push one of her legs down onto the bed, and then drape the knee of her other leg over the crease of my arm. Moving onto my knees just a bit more, I begin to thrust at a new angle, and her muscles clamp down the hardest they have.

"That it, baby?" I ask, dropping my free hand to rub the pad of my thumb against her clit. I can feel it pulsing, and I know that she's close to another orgasm already.

"Jesus Christ, Harry," she groans, nails digging into my skin as I keep up my pace. "Splitting me open."

Her words have my prick twitching inside of her, and I know that I'm not going to be able to hold out as long as I want to.

I'll just have to make a promise to make it up to her in the morning.

"Yeah? Got you feeling full?"

"So full," Carter shakes her head from side to side, and her eyes are droopy. I can tell she's trying her hardest to keep them open, and on me.

"You feel so good around me, flower," I compliment, licking over my bottom lip. "Prettiest, and sweetest little pussy squeezing me. Can't get enough can you, hm?"

I watch as her body trembles underneath me, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I feel her walls tightening. Looking down, I can see her second orgasm coating my length, and that causes me to start slipping in and out of her even easier than before.

"That's a good girl," I lean down to press my lips to the corner of hers. "You're 's good for me, Carter."

Carter clutches to me, and I allow her to lift her knees to my hips again so that I can be closer to her. I pant against the side of her neck as my feel my own orgasm festering at the bottom of my spine.

"Where do you want me to come?" I ask, and she's quick to press her heels against the small of my back - forcing me to barely move in and out of her now.

"Inside, please," she begs me, and that's all it takes for me to find my second release.

I can't help but bite down on her shoulder as I pump everything I have inside of her sensitive cunt, and I hear her letting out small mewls and whimpers each time I thrust back in. Once I know she's taken everything from me, I collapse on top of her, but I'm mindful not to bare all my weight.

We cling to each other, sharing small kisses and caresses as we come down from our highs. When I finally find the strength, I push myself up onto one of my palms, my other hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Carter's ear.

"I love you," I tell her, and she smiles up at me - corners of her eyes squinting.

"I love you too."

As I hover over the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, I wonder how I could have ever been so stupid to let her slip away the first time, but I have to remind myself that's in the past. Tonight truly marks the new beginning of this relationship, and I know that it'll bring us both nothing but happiness.

I look at her, and I see not only my future, but also my soulmate. Regardless of what happened before, I know one thing is absolutely true - Carter Adams has always been the love of my life.

[bloggingboutburgers]

Hey, allo anon with an ace partner here. I wanted to say thank you so much for the well wishes! I figured I would send this in here again, so anyone else who is curious about what this experience looks like from the other side can see it.

My girlfriend came out to me a little over 2 years into our relationship. At the time it surprised me a lot, because she'd never given me any signs that she wasn't enjoying what we were doing. After we talked more I understood that she wasn't repulsed by sex and she didn't hate it, but she didn't really love it either and wanted to stop doing it for a while (so a sex-neutral ace).

Honestly, at the time, I did get anxious about it. Not just because of social conventions, but because I had viewed sex as an important bonding part of our relationship. I don't do well with change, and I was super worried about how a lack of sex would change our dynamic. I also had some insecurities about my own body, and my girlfriend admitting that she didn't see me as sexy was upsetting. But after speaking to my therapist, I realized that I was projecting my own issues on to the relationship. So I spoke with her again, and she reassured me that she wanted to be with me, and that she was confiding these feelings because she trusted me. She likes how I look, she just doesn't have the same sexual impulses I do.

So, I realized this was pretty much like cuddling. I love physical touch a lot, and I want to cuddle for a much longer time than she does. I like it when someone lies on top of me. She doesn't want me on top of her chest during cuddling. She still cuddles with me, but she tells me when she's satisfied, and we stop.

A few months went by, and I noticed that she wasn't spending any less time with me; she was actually spending more. We would still call every evening when we didn't meet up in person, we would still joke around, and she still told me she loved me and did everything she could to show it to me. We also began trying out new stuff together, and playing games and watching stuff more often. We also still had plenty of physical intimacy with things like cuddling and kissing, which made me really happy.

I realized that I didn't feel like anything was missing from the relationship. I just needed her to show and tell me she loved me in the ways she normally did. Sure, I am still attracted to her that way, but it wasn't something that would make or break the relationship.

It's been years since she came out, and at this point, I never expect anything sexual. It happens rarely, and I always check in with her multiple times before and during. We stop at any point she tells me. There are quite a few hard boundaries about what is and isn't off limits, and I always keep them in mind. I would rather satisfy myself forever than make her uncomfortable, and she knows it.

It's been over 5 years and we are still going strong. I am hoping to ask her to marry me in the next few years, because honestly, I can't picture wanting anyone else by my side. She is kind, funny, beautiful, intelligent, and treats me well. I could never ask for anything more from a partner.

Thank you SO MUCH for sharing. I myself definitely lack knowledge of what it feels like from an allo's perspective, so this was very educational for me, but beyond that... You have no idea how much hope this gives me.

From you being aware of how much sex meant to you in the context of your relationship and still being fine without it, to just... Heck, even your therapist for not blaming her for the situation. Therapy is still very much, in my country at least, an area where the absence or lower levels of sexual attraction will be hastily labelled as something wrong physically or mentally, so... Yeah, the amount of relief I felt reading that, you have no idea. And I can only imagine how much your partner appreciates it too.

Honestly I teared up a bit reading this - I sincerely wish you guys all the best and I hope you have a bright future ahead! (Also fun fact, seems you guys have been together as long as my partner and I have, it's nice to be able to relate to that too hehe^^)

[punksocks]

Warning Signs That You May Have A Toxic/Karmic Significant Other

Hey everyone, you may have seen my recent post about breaking up with my ex partner after 5.5 years. If not, I’ve been deep in reflection after ending this relationship. My reasons for ending it were that he refused to seek professional help to manage his anger which would come out in constant outbursts of violence (not physical ab*se but hitting walls, kicking furniture, scarring my dog, etc) and his mental health in general. After breaking things off I analyzed our relationship and all the red flags became crystal clear in hindsight. This blog is not only my emotional space to reflect, but also a place to give out advice to make sure you guys feel less alone in the world. So I’ve compiled a list of behaviors that made it clear that in hindsight the relationship was destine to be toxic and could not continue. It’s important to take lessons from painful experiences in order to continue to grow, and that’s what I hope I can help with by sharing my experiences here:

(TW Manipulation, Distressing Themes, Emotional Ab*se)

- They hate your intuition: (they work to make you doubt whatever means you have of self guidance. Whether that’s tarot/astrology, or spirituality in general, or therapy, or your simple gut feelings/reactions to things. They hate them because they know that they’ll be singled out at some point by them so they work to make you not believe in yourself through manipulation/gaslighting. My ex would constantly say the tarot is going to tell me to break up with him, but he never really changed he’d just belittle it and say I was getting weird about spirituality and he’d try to make me doubt myself or choose between the tarot and him. When I asked him to go to therapy he would also say that he was worried the therapist would tell him to break up with me-implying I was the problem. When I would ask him to go anyway he would find a way to avoid it- saying it’s too expensive, too hard to find, he doesn’t have time, etc)

-They constant give you advice that puts you in harm’s way: (My ex always told me I was too quick to cut off people that threw me under the bus and that I was paranoid. When I found out my former business partner was being shady and stealing from me, he told me to keep working with her. I said I had to take things over. He said I had no chance of covering the expenses on my own and that he wasn’t going to help me at all even though he was working a consistent 9-5. I rationalized this as putting too much pressure on him to support me through my apprenticeship over the previous few months, even though by the time we were having this discussion I had picked up a seasonal 9-5 to compensate for starting the business. I still felt guilty because I was asking him to cover the rent at home while I built this business up. I ended up wracking up debt over trying to cover everything myself and he was telling me I was going to fail every step of the way. When I didn’t fail and the business remained open over a year later, he said he had always believed in me every step of the way.)

- They rewrite history (that’s the other thing- when I broke up with him he said it was his idea to open the studio in the first place. This was a lie. A bold one at that. At the time I would have had to become self taught due to dealing with several egotistical mentors (wow thematic) and I looked for positions in other studios and there were none. My ex told me I should “pause” my goals. I told him I’ll open up my own space with another artist. He had a long talking down to me about how we couldn’t afford any of that, and how impossible it was, etc. But I went through with it anyway, effectively doing all the work on my own. He constantly told me what I was doing was crazy. But I made success out of it, thank God. Now my ex is trying to take credit for the whole thing as if I don’t remember what happened. Audacious.)

- Instead of having their own dreams they focus on wearing yours down (I have so many big dreams I want to accomplish and every other idea I shared with my ex was pushed back on or breadcrumbed. I wanted to live abroad, he’d say it’s too expensive but maybe he could find a way to make it work if I stopped putting so much pressure on him. I took over my own business, he told me I shouldn’t do it and should quit while I’m ahead. He would always try to counter every idea I had with a “logical reason” of why it wouldn’t work. He would try to control me by doubting me and in turn trying to get me to doubt myself. I never actually listened to him in hindsight, and when I pushed through successfully he would pretend to have been on my side the whole time.)

-They always compare you to their exes, in bold ways (My ex would always go out of his way to bring up his past relationships. The examples and instances were never appropriate. But one of the first worst early examples was when we were at a show. My friend’s band was playing. In the middle of the set he decided to look up his ex on social media. I was clearly uncomfortable but he continued. Then when we’re talking he brought up a nickname she used to call him that was inappropriate. When I was upset by this he threw a shirt (merch gifted to him by my friend’s band) in the booth almost hitting me with it and he stormed off. He made himself seem like the victim in a situation where he was trying to bait me into starting a public argument and yet made me soothe him afterward.)

- The betrayal of not ever being believed (early on this was another giant red flag in hindsight. I’m black and I tried to explain colorism to him, while I was having a bad experience with it. He’s white and should have been listening and understanding with open ears. Instead he tried to argue me down for being “mean” to light skinned black people. In the experience I was talking about how a mixed femme at work established a boundary with our white bosses to try to avoid racist harm. They let the femme do this without any pushback. I tried to establish the same boundary in the same meeting and those white bosses accused me of actively refusing to do my job. I told my ex this was colorist and that’s when he argued with me about this. He didn’t believe my experiences until he googled “the right articles”. When I brought this up in the future he would say he was just trying to see all black people as equal. It was a pretty disgusting defense.)

- Throwing insults in your face about past trauma (I told my ex about how emotionally abusive my mother was (wow there’s that pattern again) and he would throw this in my face and blame me or compare me to her at the slightest provocation in several arguments. When I was disrespected at work, he would blame me for misinterpreting things. Complaining about how I used him for money whenever I had asked him for help managing the business’ expenses. And so many deep cuts of things he should never said to me and names he shouldn’t have called me if he ever cared about me. He always wrote it off as me misremembering or him meaning it as something else or a distraction tactic of whataboutism -‘what about when you complained that I left dirty clothes on the floor?’ For example. All ways he tried to manipulate me from seeing this pattern of messed up behavior. Every argument he would make us talk in circles until I would have to give up from frustration and exhaustion.)

-They’re full of hot air, and if they seem like they aren’t they’re probably mirroring you (when I broke up with him I stopped hanging out with him pretty much immediately. Although I had to coordinate moving out still, I started keeping my head down to focus on my work. Essentially I had already moved on. I thought we had had deep discussions about the world and life but when I had less to say he had nothing to add. He would just keep filling up the air with anecdotes about nothing and commentary on anything just to keep crossing my boundaries and to try to force me to pay attention to him when it was clear I neither interested or comfortable doing so.)

- They try to force you to become as cynical and jaded as they are (I was never antagonistic per se, but when we were together I had unconsciously started looking/preparing for the worst in every scenario and every person I’d meet. Because of my ex’s toxic influence. Getting along with coworkers? They must be just “kissing up to you” according to him. Like that tv show most people are fond of? No way that has to be trash. Want to try something new? No there can’t be anything good about that. He was a very stuck person that refused to find the joy in almost anything. Unless it was too impressive to ignore —but even then he had to nitpick it apart. I would wonder why his compliments would feel so hollow- it was because he really had trouble seeing the good in anything. Like a day or two after we broke up I was already feeling lighter and more optimistic. When people were kind to me I embraced it easier and in turn every aspect of life got a little brighter. The contempt for others was palatable. Because he expected everyone to be ready to undercut him like he was ready to do to them.)

- Before you know it, they’ll have you romanticizing breadcrumbing behavior (I asked my ex to get on meds for his mental health and to find a therapist so many times over the course of 5 years. 4-5 months before I broke up with him he got on medication. Then after a peace period of a month or so, we were back in a cycle of petty arguments and he was saying the meds don’t work. He didn’t even try to go to therapy until I broke up with him. he got an appointment the next day because he “was trying to win me back” Essentially, he’d never work on himself or actually actively improve things. He’d always make one or two half steps to placate me then complain about how it was too hard and completely impossible to put the work in. Even with the therapy example, he wanted to display that he could make progress in order to win me back. Don’t worry, I had seen this tactic before and knew he would just fall back into toxicity. So, it didn’t work.)

- When you do leave they get cocky about how you’ll have nowhere to go (I leaned on my ex to support me when I became overwhelmed by figuring out my business on my own. I worked several temp jobs in addition to the business but it was stretching me thin. So I needed his help several times and only had so much saved up by the time I broke up with him. After begging me to take him back the entire night and pretending to be supportive, the next day he was scoffing and boasting about how “[he] didn’t even know what [I] was going to do.” He did this over everything from buying my own detergent-even though I always bought the detergent- to managing my bills on my own-even though I usually managed most of my bills on my own- until I finally was able to move out and leave him behind.)

- They never defend you and always make it seem like it’s your fault if you get attacked (My ex was always siding with abusive people and gaslighting me when I noticed that behavior. As many of you may know, my mom was a terror throughout my childhood. I confided in my ex about how much of an impact this had had on me. Before I went no contact with her we all got dinner when she came in town to see me. Despite all my warnings and preemptive begging to be supported through the difficulty of meeting with her my ex threw me under the bus immediately. He laughed at her jokes at my expense and didn’t stop her at all from singling me out. I shutdown in this moment and began to draw to cope- I’m neurodivergent so that’s one of the things I default to doing when I’m overwhelmed. They continued to make fun of me together and when I asked him why he didn’t have my back afterward, he blamed me for “not being friendly enough” and “not interacting with [my] mom enough”. This pattern of doubting and failing to help me would continue through our entire relationship.)

- They’ll have -self aware- moments that aren’t quite what they seem (I truly cannot count the number of times my ex would start an argument just to talk me in circles then try to get me to believe I was in the wrong too. It was truly maddening. He would always push to say he “understood” how we had gotten there. Then ramble on and on and on saying that I was attacking him and he was the victim of things. I asked him to do the dishes? I’m “criticizing [his] housework and putting too much pressure on [him]”. I ask him not to throw things when he’s upset? I’m “overly criticizing [him] and making [him] so anxious he can’t help but hit things”. And on and on and on it went. He would always tidy it up by saying he forgave me because we were “both wrong” and he just “would try to be better next time and [I] should too”.)

-They have underlying personality issues that need to be addressed (and when you bring a hint of these up, they lash out about how you’re attacking them and they throw personal attacks back at you because of their fragile ego. If you -somehow- get them to see a mental health professional you may find them lying about what feedback they got. After I broke up with him he said he’d go to anger management class and find a therapist “to win me back”- funny how it’s after you leave them and set the ultimate boundary they do the work to show you they can hypothetically change and it’s never one of the times you’ve begged before in the midst of madness. Before I moved out I overheard his therapy appointment and she asked about his bipolar diagnosis and he said he was just anxious despite the mood swings. When he came to me to tell me the good news of him finally going to therapy he left that out. When I asked if the therapist knew if he had another disorder he manipulated that. He said the therapist asked if it could be anything else but it was just a brief thought. He framed it that way instead of the consistent behavioral issue it was.)

- Usually they attract drama and chaos but blame you for it as their partner (He always kept his ex around in boundary crossing ways. In hindsight I wouldn’t be surprised if he had cheated in any way with any of them because of how murky he was about spending one on one time with them. They also will always encourage you to keep other toxic people in your life so they can keep flying under the radar/blaming the other toxic people when you feel drained/etc. When I decided to go no contact with my parents, he second guessed me. When I decided to go no contact with my friends that were harmful, he second guessed me. He went out of his way to call me paranoid and picky and every other name in the book he could. Even after I broke up with him he went out of his way to tell me I was paranoid and should quit tarot reading “because [he] knew it would turn [me] against [him] one day”. I told him his opinion meant less than nothing to me.)

- Whenever you set a boundary they try to undermine it and take it as an attack (When we met, all of my ex’s small circle of friends was made up of people he had dated or slept with. Once his friend, who had flirted with him multiple times, asked to stay in his apartment while she moved out of her place. He offered her his bed. She even had a boyfriend at the time but she went to my ex first. I told him this made me very uncomfortable. He screamed and yelled about how he’ll always choose his friends first and I have to understand that and that she didn’t want to sleep in his bed while he was in it. It was crazy but the whole time he called me dramatic and made me feel insane for being so uncomfortable with it.)

- They may often act out in public over the littlest things (my ex would get absolutely infuriated when there were lines in places. Insane right? Especially living in cities? with other people? And yet whenever we went out I’d have to prepare my mental for the possibility of him getting angry and breaking down because people were waiting ahead of him in line. In hindsight the entitlement he had was overwhelming in itself. The last time we went out to a movie -which was a whole scheduling fiasco in of itself with him during our entire relationship, he was obsessed with movies. I like movies but spending 6-9 hours in a theater? Every week? On top of hours of mandatory movie viewing at home? It was exhausting. He also made me pay for my own monthly movie pass even though it was his thing. Even in covid, although I’m immunocompromised I had to negotiate with him to wait to get vaccinated before he went back to the theater. And to wear a mask in the showings. He would huff and fuss about those small courtesies the entire time. Anyway the last movie we went out to see had a long line but we bought tickets ahead of time. He pitched a fit and kept storming off away from me and threatening to leave over the line. I kept following him foolishly, and coaxed him into staying. Of course there were enough seats and of course he enjoyed the movie. He apologized after for “getting overwhelmed by the line” but that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.)

- It’s all or nothing for them but breadcrumbs for you (I’ve always been clear that I have no plans of staying in the country I’m from. From the start I’ve understood I’m not meant to stay here. And yet I stayed in a city I hated so he could suddenly finish his associates degree. We moved back to my hometown but we lived in the most stressful neighborhood because he “wanted to be downtown with a pool.” He would always complain about every single idea I had to leave the country. I’m thinking about doing a language school or artist residency? He “did long distance with [his] ex who cheated and it would be too hard”. I want to study this language and go to this -easy-place for a visa? He “kept forgetting to study and had no idea how we would ever afford the move.” And on and on it went until I simply gave up on trying to get him to step up.)

- They twist everything to be about them even grief (my grandma was like a mother to me, so it hit me hard when she died. She even told me she was going and thanked me for my friendship at the end. It was still a very difficult period and I couldn’t accept it until it just happened. When I got the call and burst into tears my ex said “I’m so sorry… do you blame me because we stayed here for me to go to school and you couldn’t be home with her?” It hadn’t even been 20 minutes since I learned she was gone. The extent of his selfishness would shock me until I cut him off.)

- They make you bury things they don’t like about your self expression/goals (I’ll use a simple example. I love fairy lights. When we met I had fairy lights and my ex had no complaints. But when we moved in together they ‘would always bother him and give him headaches’. So I took out the lights. Then he got me a glowing lamp I wanted for my birthday but never allowed me to turn it on when we were in the room. I brought the lights I love to my work and my ex would complain about them there too. He’d say he didn’t know why he “just didn’t like spending time at the studio” and then use the lights as an excuse, and then hed complain all day about how exhausting it was to be there. He’d only offer to come to the studio more if I turned them off just for him. All this time later and all of a sudden I don’t have any lights I like up. This didn’t happen for everything, but there were a lot of little things he was so controlling about just to be authoritative about something I liked.)

- They hate it when you have positive things happen to you (and instead of seeing your success as a good thing they see it as you one upping them, so they often express jealousy and then disguise it as a joke. He would “joke” about how I was going to fail so often I lost count. When I had a great day there would always be a hint of disappointment in his voice. He would always undermine it in anyway he could. “Oh you made X amount that’s nice, but that’s not enough to cover the rent”. I got a lot of compliments on my outfits, so he’d say “no one ever compliments me”. Always something to bring me down and try to get me to focus on a worry.)

- They downplay your trauma (I’m a burn survivor. My dad burned me through hot water and neglect as a baby on around 20% of my body. For that and many other reasons I became sort of a local legend for my time in our local child protective services. In a city of well over a million people. Doctors thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again and it was a miracle when I did. My grandmother had to wrap my scars everyday, twice a day for 3-4 years afterwards. She would tell me the pain would make me cry random throughout the night until I went to kindergarten. All that to say, my scars had a BIG impact on my health and my life. When I told my ex about my insecurity he said “sorry that happened, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Crazily at 21 I took that as flattery. It was not, it was severely downplaying the trauma I went through because my ex didn’t care for that part of my life. I even remember thinking I should tag a post as a burn survivor and he said “isn’t that like advertising your burns, why warn people about it?”. I got better and embraced my scars all through my own healing but damn it was all severely fucked up.)

- They usually have a Fatal Flaw they try to make you contend with (My ex had explosive anger where he would hit something (a wall, the couch, his desk, etc) or throw things at any slight provocations, and he would disguise it as a reaction of low self esteem instead. I didn’t realize how bad the conditioning had got until I broke up with him and I wasn’t getting jumpy from him coming home anymore or my dog wasn’t hiding from him anymore. I was walking on eggshells all the time and I only knew it subconsciously. He would also curse at me and call me the meanest names from the smallest arguments, he would get belittling. It’s their signature style to make you feel small and to desensitize you to truly nightmarish behavior.)

- That’s the other thing- most people and sometimes animals can tell they’re off (I would always wonder why my ex never seemed to make a good impression on others. They could tell he was off from the start.)

- They start trying to love bomb you after you give up or when they sense you are finally giving up (I always asked my ex to pay more attention to my business/endeavors/art/etc when we were together, to respond to texts I sent him at work-within reason-, to give me some support or feedback. His replies were always blasé. “That’s nice.” Or “I will.” As soon as I broke up with him. He was complaining that he always missed texting me at work. Then he started getting more involved on my social media pages. Then for the first time in months he watched my story on Instagram completely unwelcomed and unprompted. It was how fake the performance of interest was that really struck me after everything.)

- They always ask for one more chance when you’ve given them at least a hundred chances (Evem when I broke up with him he kept saying “you cut off other people (for being toxic) but I never thought it would be me!” I feel like I’ve already put plenty of examples of this, so I’ll just say this points to the fact that at their base motivation they don’t really respect you or care about you. If someone actually cares about you, they’re going to go out of their way to make you comfortable, to care about your opinions and feedback, from the very start)

- Even when it’s over, they still always try to blame you for their bad behavior. (My ex painted himself as an introvert when he was in a relationship. I had always asked him to make -newer, healthier- friends and to make a social effort. Since the beginning. After we broke up he made an effort to go out to social events. After he went out one day he came back and said “I was such a girlfriend guy, I never went out and socialized!” In turn I said you’re not a girlfriend guy you never cared about what I had to say, if you were a girlfriend guy I wouldn’t have had to break up with you for literally never taking me into account. So that ended that.)

- When it’s over the relief hits you in waves (I didn’t even realize how much I was doing to cope with the hostility and boredom of the relationship until it was over. I stopped overeating, I actually lost my appetite for days. I went from taking edibles every week to not even craving the ones I had. I wasn’t the most indulgent but I was shocked by how immediately I was fine with going cold turkey. My time with myself became even more peaceful. Even before I moved out, I was more creative and productive. I felt the beauty and the optimism of all the little moments deep in my spirit and my glow was brighter than ever before. My ex kept turning to me in despair and asking “how can you be so okay with this??” I answered him indifferently because he wasn’t worth entertaining. But obviously my spirit had been restored, I wasn’t wasting love on anyone that didn’t deserve it anymore. My energy was finally all mine. And I had faith in God that everything would be alright. And it was.)

You slowly but surely realize that you were formed to be a victim of a narcissistic/antagonistic person due to being raised by narcissistic parents and in an environment full of enabling emotionally and verbally abusive behavior. When we met I was so vulnerable. I had moved to a new city on my own, I was in a financially precarious place. The city was The Worst for Black people (tm). I was so desperate for an ally, I caught an energy vampire instead. I’ve healed and learned a lot from this. To be much more deliberate about who I let into my life. To be unafraid of purging and moving on when someone shows you they’re incapable of growth. To not accept crumbs of affection and appreciation. To pour my love into myself first before I let anyone else do the same. So I write all this to say, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that some people are so corrupted to the core that they’d rather destroy you than heal themselves. So… forgive yourself for this experience. Forgive yourself for being a person that just loves and cares about others. That believes in cultivating a world full of warmth and compassion. Don’t let one (or a dozen- ugh the people I’ve had to move on from oml) toxic ass person ruin you and your compassion. I had to forgive myself for believing in a lot of disappointing, inept, bad people. But I won’t stop being kind and compassionate because of those losers. I’ll continue to shine my light on those who need it whenever I’m supposed to. I mean I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to rely on anyone again without fear of their self interest but one step at a time, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Anyway, wish me luck on this fresh start. Buy a reading if you want to support me. But yeah, thanks for reading y’all.

[violet-fluff]

💙 Post War! Levi x Nurse! Reader

Lending a Hand

@quantobono here’s your Levi x Nurse reader!

After the battle against Eren ended, Jean and Connie rushed Levi to the nearest medical tent they could find once they got back into Marley.

“Excuse me! We need help!” Jean yells as he helps Connie drag Levi into your medical tent.

You quickly turn around from your note taking to see the man these guys were carrying barely conscious.

“Oh! Lay him on the bed. What happened to him, do you know?” You ask as you peek out your tent and wave your nursing assistant, Rina, over.

Connie huffs as he tries to catch his breath. “His leg was bitten by a titan.”

You nod as you help Rina set up medical supplies. “What’s his name and who can I return him to?”

“His name is Levi and we’ll be here waiting for him. He’s our captain.” Jean explains.

Rina is cutting off Levi’s pants as you lean over to look at his face. “Hi, Levi. I’m Nurse y/n and I’m going to help take care of you, ok?”

Levi only grumbles as his dull grey eyes try to stay open.

“Quickly, Rina. He’s losing a lot of blood.” You place a glass nozzle attached to a tube over his mouth and nose. “You won’t feel any pain, ok?” You tell him as the gas slowly puts him into a deep sleep.

Some hours pass and Levi groggily wakes up and looks around confusingly. He’s not sure where he is but he sees you sitting at a desk writing something down and tries to speak but his mouth and throat are too dry.

You look up when you hear a noise to see Levi awake and trying to speak. You quickly grab a glass of water with a syringe and kneel next to his bedside.

“I’m going to give you some water.” You explain to him as you fill the syringe with water and slowly dribble it into his mouth.

Levi lets the water coat his mouth and throat and coughs as he tries to swallow.

“I’m Nurse y/n and you’re in my medical tent. Your friends brought you in here so I can treat your leg.” You tell Levi as you wait for him to be able to speak.

“When will you get started?” Is all he is able to croak out.

You giggle softly. “I’m already done! I’ve been done for the past four hours.”

Levi raises a brow in utter confusion.

You smile and remember Jean and Connie said they were all from Paradis Island. The medical technology there isn’t quite up to date as it is everywhere else.

“I gave you an anesthesia. It’s a gas that puts you to sleep so you aren’t conscious during surgery. It’s very convenient for you because it’s like you took a nice nap and woke up with everything done!”

Levi is too tired to understand further so he only nods. “How bad was my leg?”

“Well, it was a pretty deep bite, but luckily you have a lot of muscle that protected the vital arteries in your leg. That would have been really risky to stitch up and I most likely would have had to take your leg. But, fortunately for you, I was able to let you keep your leg! You will need to use a wheelchair for the time being and take physical therapy sessions to strengthen that leg enough to walk again.” You explain.

Levi clicks his tongue. “Great.”

***

About ten months pass by since you’ve been helping Levi. The head nurse appointed you to be Levi’s physical therapist after his wound healed since you already knew about his condition.

Working with Levi is interesting. He has a strong personality with a lot of sarcasm, but you find it oddly charming. The two of you have become quite good friends.

“Leeeeeevi!” You sing as you walk into his house.

He scoffs when he sees you waltz in. “Do you not know what knocking is?” He says as he wheels in from the kitchen.

“You should really…I don’t know…lock the front door then? A murderer can come in.” You say matter of factly.

Levi rolls his eyes. “I think you’re worse than a murderer.”

You fein hurt. “You really just said that? After I got you a nice gift?” You tell him as you hold out a box.

Levi eyes the box suspiciously but takes it. “What is it?”

Rolling your eyes, you wave your hands forward. “Open it and find out!”

Levi opens the box to see three sticks lying next to each other. “Thanks?”

You laugh and grab the sticks. “Watch this.” You snap it forward and the sticks piece together in one long one.

“A new cane?” Levi questions.

“Not just any new cane,” You say excitedly,” but as you saw, you can compact it so it’s easier to carry when not in use. Also, I had them customize the handle.” You put the cane in his hand for him to inspect. “I know it’s a bit difficult for you to use your cane since you have to use your non-dominant hand, but the way this handle was made, you can still use that hand, or you can use your dominant one. It’s missing finger friendly!” You joke.

Levi gave a small smile as he held the cane in his injured hand with ease. “You’re right. It fits perfectly.” He says as he wiggles his three remaining fingers into the grooves. He tries to stand up so he can try the cane out but you notice something.

“Hey, sit back down, sir.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“I can see a stiff knee from a mile away.” You say while squinting your eyes. “Sit and I’ll massage it. Then you can try your nifty toy!”

Levi huffs but does what he’s told. “You would make a fine captain with how bossy you are.”

Grabbing his leg, you feel the stiffness in his knee as you massage. Levi grunts in pain.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You wince as you continue pressing into his knee.

Ten minutes pass and you gently move Levi’s leg around to see it a lot more mobile than what it was. “So much better!”

“Yeah, thanks.” He says sheepishly.

“Did you need to take pain medication?”

Levi looks away embarrassed. “No.”

You and Levi spend the next few hours trying out his new cane and doing more exercises to stretch out his leg.

“Well I think we’re done here!” You clap as Levi plops onto the couch. His eyes widen when he sees you start to pack your supplies.

“Wait! My back really hurts. I think I may have over exerted myself.” He says and tries to stretch his back.

“Well that’s not good.” You frown. “Has your back always hurt after our sessions?”

“No. I guess it just started. But if you could stay until I go to bed just so I don’t risk hurting myself that would be great.”

You smile. “Levi, I know what you’re up to.”

Levi’s face scrunches. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t want me to leave.” You laugh when you see his face turn red. “You can just ask me to stay. I enjoy your company anyway.”

Levi’s heart races as you sit close to him on the couch. “You’re a brat.”

You grin as you lay your head on the back of the couch and just stare at him. Despite the scars crawling across his face and his dead eye, he was very good looking. You couldn’t admit you gained feelings for your patient as it was very unprofessional but you don’t know how much longer you could suppress it.

Levi looked back at you, admiring your beauty. He was never good in this area…love. But since his life was no longer on the line due to titans, he thought why not give love a try. It was like a culture shock when it hit him right away due to you being with him so much.

No words were said as the both of you leaned closer to one another and your lips touched in a gentle kiss. You felt Levi snake an arm around your waist as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Pulling away, you blushed and looked down. “Well, I’m glad the feelings mutual.”

Levi cupped your face to make you look back up at him. “I fell in love with you.”

“I fell in love with you too. But, I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo because I’m also your nurse.” You told him.

“People fall in love in all sorts of ways, right? You don’t have to stop being my nurse though. You give great massages.” He smiled.

You laugh and lean forward to kiss him again.

[copperbadge]

To close the loop on the therapy discussion, I met with the therapist and talked about not thinking much of the articles she'd sent, looking for something aimed more at preventing strong reactions, and something more systemic overall. I mentioned that there's not a lot of information about what mindfulness does for emotional regulation, or what kind does it.

She either understood where I was coming from or was humoring me, although she was very unimpressed with the fact that last week she asked me to try and identify different physical sensations in my body when I was stressed, and when I tried and couldn't find any I deliberately stressed myself out more to see if anything changed. Ten minutes of stress isn't going to kill me, it's fine.

Upshot is I now have an alarm set for a twice-daily check in where I rate my stress and write about why I have it and where I feel it, and she said she'd come up with something more structured for me to work within during our meetings. She also said she thought it would be good homework for me to do more academic research into mindfulness, which was fine -- I'd been digging in the citations on the articles she'd sent, so I had half a dozen scholarly/medical articles to get through. I did spend an afternoon getting very good at finding free copies of journal articles, so that was fun.

I'm developing some theories of mindfulness that make it feel less viscerally like useless woo, but they also make me sound like I'm bucking to found a cult, so I'll save those for my eventual manifesto.

Oh also -- I had a couple of anon asks but it felt like responding would prolong what was already a somewhat looping conversation, so if you sent an anon ask I did see it and read it but am not likely to respond simply because it would have to go on the public tumblr and loop us back around again.

[bosinclairsgff]

Mark and Amanda saving kidnapped reader

Warnings: Mention of traps, hurt reader and kidnap (duh)

A/n: I know this is very short but I could not think of what else to write lol idk what’s going on in my head but I just had no ideas.

~ As soon as he finds out you’ve been kidnapped he would immediately do whatever it took to get you back. He would definitely have a mental breakdown while trying to find you. Mark would keep your disappearance quiet and tell no one. Just to make sure you really stay safe while they have you.

~ Would pay any amount of money to get you back or do anything they asked. But would royally fuck them over once he got you. I think he’d set up a trap just for them and oh boy would it be brutal.

~ He would need to see proof that your still okay and alive, if he saw one scratch on you…it wouldn’t be good.

~ If they did hurt you, once he gets you back he would do whatever they did to you but to them, just make it 10x worse.

~ Once he gets you back he makes sure your alright, mentally and physically. Mark would take care of any cuts or anything like that, bandaging you up all nicely.

~ He realizes that all this would take a toll on your mental health, so he wouldn’t leave you by yourself for a while and would make sure your getting sleep. Mark well, doesn’t believe in therapy so he wouldn’t get you a therapist. In his mind he’s just as good as a therapist.

Amanda

~ She would go ape shit crazy when she finds out you’ve been kidnapped. Breaking anything she sees around her while screaming and crying. After calming down she’d come up with some elaborate plan to get you back.

~ Amanda would die for you so she’s willing to do anything to get you back. Anything at all, kill, torture, pay or some other horrible thing you can think of she’d do. She loves you so much so of course she’s gonna get you back. You have nothing to worry about, the people who took you though…do.

~ Once she knows your okay she would start working on her plan to get you back. Stopping at nothing to have you back in her arms. If John was still alive she’d ask him for advice about traps and things like that.

~ She would give you the biggest hug ever once she saw you again alive and well. You would have a few scrapes and bruises but nothing to terrible. It would still make her furious that they even touched you.

~ Amanda would do what she had to do then take you home, not letting you out of her sight for hours. She only leaves because she has traps to work on and people to kidnap.

[alexaloraetheris]

I juat remembered the day, about two months ago, when I went to renew my perscription and ended up derailed by some kind of divine influence that really, really wanted my help. 😂

So I have an appointment at 9. First thing I do is sleep in because my alarm simply did not ring. First time that happened. I cursed out the damn phone and ordered a taxi, which I had specifically hoping to avoid because of the traffic congestion.

My driver is a woman a bit older than me, and she's in a good mood so we chat. She told me she was thinking of moving to [city on the coast] because taxi drivers are paid better there, and I tell her I have family there, we comment on what it's like to drive in a city essentially built into three hills and a cliff. She mentiones she has scoliosis, and it sometimes impacts her ability to sit in a car for long periods of time. I had scoliosis as well, but I had managed to fix it with exercises almost completely so I recommended my physical therapist, and assured her it's not too late, because some of the people in my therapy group were even older than her. When she let me off she thanked me for the help.

Feeling good that, even if I had to pay out the nose for the ride, I got there in time and even managed to do a good deed. I rush in, tell the reception guy I'm here to see my doctor and settle in to wait.

Two hours later, I see people being called in but not my name. I ask why, and doctor looks at me blankly and says I'm not in the system. I have to tell the reception I've arrived so I show up on his schedule.

I'm mentally cursing out the entire hospital, but I wasn't raised by wolves. I thank the doctor, politely tell the different receptionist that the last guy probably didn't hear me when I told him my appointment, got added in and went back to wait.

Ten minutes later, a visibly nervous girl with freshly printed papers sits in the waiting room. I'm in a bit of a mood, but I'm also a firm believer in helping if I can. I paste on a smile and ask 'First time?' and she admits she just got sent here for a potential ADHD diagnosis and she had no idea what to do. Having been there and knowing exactly how hard it was to do it on your own, I gave her the number of the psychologist who made my diagnosis, assured her that the psychiatrist she was here to see is the same one I have and that he's a good guy, explained what ADHD actually was and how the meds work. She was neraly crying with relief by the time I was done, and I promised she could send me questions if she needs to.

I finally, finally go in for my appointment in a slightly better mood, only for my psychiatrist to tell me Concerta is no longer imported, I have to go on some other meds and for that I need my family doctor to sign off on a regular perscription instead of getting an Rx perscription from him.

This is the worst case scenario, because I do NOT want my mother, who thinks ADHD was invented by quack American psychologists to sell expensive meds to parents with unruly children, to know I have ADHD. So I mentally curse out the entire healthcare system, go to the family doctor and explain the situation, that my mother absolutely CANNOT know about my diagnosis. Even though the doctor was not aware of my diagnosis so far, she listens attentively, and we make sure that my mom can't check the insurance we're both under to see what meds I'm on or that if she checks my name in the pharmacy directory she can't see me either.

I thought I handled that situation rather well but I must have looked more worried than I thought, because the doctor admitted her high-school age granddaughter had been asking questions about psychologists and antidepressants and she had so far been dismissive. But if she really needs help, she might do the same thing I did and seek help on her own, and my doctor realized she ought to either change her attitude fast or be left in the dark while her granddaughter is struggling. So I told her which psychologist I went to when I was also a depressed high schooler and how it helped and what I would have wanted my family to keep in mind. She thanks me and hands me a new perscription and sends me on my way.

So by now I am starting to notice a pattern.

Now, I'm actually an atheist, and I have 'Culturally Catholic' as a flaw and a laundry list of Stuff(TM) I have had to unlearn, but sometimes I really wonder if Someone Up There looked at me that day and thought:

"Hmm, looks like I have three problems I can solve with one well-positioned dumbass. Time to ruin her day for the good of the world!"

I mean. Happy to help but I really hope ruining my day won't be necessary next time.

[daisylark]

Hey, this is kinda gonna be a rant so if you're not in the mood for that feel free to delete.

I saw your post -

https://www.tumblr.com/daisylark/741324260680794112/man-takes-a-womans-spot-in-a-womens-shelter-and?source=share

- and it hit me a certain way. Yes, I understand that this man is making it up, it's a fantasy. But I am a woman who has actually experienced living in a homeless shelter with a man, and it got to me.

I was 19 at the time, this was about six years ago. Literally the first thing he said to me when I walked in was that he still had his dick. (He phrased it as being intact and not having had bottom surgery.) I had no idea what he was talking about. at the time I was unfamiliar with trans ideology. Frantically googling to figure out what was happening was how I originally found radfems, bc they were the only people calling this shit out.

I could go on, but the thing that really gets me is that this experience was six or seven years ago, right. I'm in a better, more stable place in life, and have been seeking therapy for several years now. And the worst thing is THAT EXPERIENCE SPECIFICALLY has been a consistent impediment to getting to help.

Because even when I find a therapist, which is harder than you'd think, and do intake, which is exhausting and damaging every time, etc etc etc, so far no one can handle the specific trauma that I have from seeking shelter when I was at my most vulnerable and being gaslit and forced to cohabit with a man by the ppl who should have protected me.

And because my story is such a hot button issue, everyone kind of blue screens when they hear about it. Y'know? It's a little much to believe, in the current political climate, if you're trying to be a good progressive or whatever, that a 6ft pwecious wittle twans woman would act like that in a woman's homeless shelter. He was in his 40s btw. Ppl don't want to engage with it. They want me to be quiet. They've already decided I'm exaggerating.

The last therapist I had I started talking about this experience and the way it damaged my trust in institutions and so on, and the therapist interrupted to be confused, called him "they," and was asking about how he identified. I can be sitting right in front of someone I've known for months and the moment a man is brought up his hypothetical feelings take precedence over me.

So I understand that the reddit post is made up. But I saw it and I had to say, this shit fucking happens. It happens and it's real. The fawning over him doesn't happen quite like that, but in my experience, if a man is admitted to a woman's shelter his needs are already being prioritized and that is unlikely to change. I hate these men - the ones who go to the shelters, the ones who fantasize about it, the ones who support it. I won't forgive anyone who supports it.

Thank you for hearing me out.

Thank you so much for sharing this. I am so sorry that this happened to you. These are exactly the kind of things that we are afraid of. These are the things that people insist never happen, but they do.

These kind of things were the main things that peaked me. That a man's feelings would matter more than a woman's physical safety. It's horrifying.

[blade-that-was-broken]

Soldier On

Getting that call felt like a nightmare.

Bruce owned a small resort on one of the islands in the state of Hawaii, running it with his wife, Brandy with their gaggle of kids roaming around. He was content where his life was and where he ended up. Good weather, great wife, a few kids. He didn't think he could want anything more. Well, granted, he wishes he had a better relationship with his brothers.

He left home practically the moment he turned eighteen. After his parent's divorce when he was about thirteen, things got difficult. They spent a lot of time with their grandmother and Bruce just could not wait to get out. His biggest regret was leaving his brothers behind with their mother. Their father had cut off all contact. Either that or their mother had. It didn't matter.

Floyd wrote letters but that was the majority of their contact. He started some kind of music career and seemed to be doing pretty well with himself.

Clay was in college, working on a Master's degree or something. Bruce wasn't entirely sure. Clay wasn't on speaking terms with him at all, feeling abandoned when Bruce fled the moment he could.

And Branch? Well, Bruce hadn't really heard from Branch since the youngest had moved in with Grandma. He'd have to be 16 or 17 now. Almost an adult. Almost ready to do whatever he wanted with his life. Bruce had no idea what that was.

And then there was John Dory, the forgotten one. He had been about fifteen when their parents divorced and their father took him in said divorce. They never heard from him again.

It was in the middle of the day when got the call. "Is this Bruce...."

"Yes?"

"This is LA Military Hospital. Are you related to a... John Dory?"

He hadn't heard that name in years.

Decades, even.

"He's... he's my brother."

"We haven't been able to find any contacts. We are glad to reach you. There is some news I have to tell you."

She had to tell him over the phone. Turned out, John had joined the military many years ago but recently had been severely injured in an explosion overseas. She didn't expand on the shape he was in but apparently soon he would be released and he had no where to go. Not that he would have argued but Brandy was with him when he was told and she told him to get him and bring him home immediately. She booked him a couple of tickets - one for him and the other for John - and told him to get him.

He wasn't sure if he had even mentioned John to her. He must have, right? Bruce had been thirteen the last time he saw JD. He didn't know what to expect.

He didn't expect to walk into a physical therapy center and having to ask which one of the severely injured men there was John Dory. He couldn't even recognize his own brother. He didn't expect to be shown the area and he didn't expect to see his brothers struggling to walk with only one leg. He didn't expect the all the bandages or the newly shaved head or the scar on his face.

"Sugar and cupcakes," John hissed in pain.

Oh yeah, that was JD.

The therapist he was with looked amused. "You have to be my only patient I have never heard swear."

"Force of habit, I guess... or nostalgia. Take your pick," John grunted.

"You must be pretty popular with parents."

"Their kids find it hilarious," John managed snarky grin. "Probably corrupted a few."

"You're doing great, John," the therapist smiled. "You are making a lot of progress."

"Maybe I should slow down then," he joked. "The sooner I can walk, the sooner I get kicked out on the streets."

"You don't have any family?"

"Tried finding them when I turned eighteen. Turns out, I'm no detective and finding cut off family can be harder than it looks."

"JD," Bruce called.

John's shoulders tensed. "I told you Mouth, not to call me that. Only my br..." he snapped, turning around. He paused and blinked, staring at Bruce.

"I know I look different than that 13-year old you used to know," Bruce started, awkwardly. "But uhm... the hospital found me? I guess? It's..."

"Bruce," John exhaled, staring at him.

"Yeah, JD," Bruce nodded. "It's me. Been a long time huh?"

[lokidokieokie]

Healing Hearts

Summary: your typical enemies to lovers plot, except it’s only one-sided… and Y/n's Bucky's physical therapist/nurse.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Nurse!Reader

Warning(s): brooding Bucky, mentions of physical therapy, other than that nothing else I can think of...

Bucky Barnes had always been a solitary man. He preferred to keep to himself and avoid unnecessary interactions with others. So when he woke up in a hospital room, with a perky nurse named Y/n assigned to him, he knew that he was in for a long and frustrating recovery.

From the moment Y/n walked into his room, she was like a ray of sunshine. She was constantly talking, asking him how he was feeling, and offering him unsolicited advice on how to speed up his recovery. Bucky found her incessant chatter annoying and intrusive, and he made it clear that he wanted her to leave him alone.

"You don't have to talk so much, you know," Bucky grumbled as Y/n tried to engage him in conversation.

She smiled brightly. "I'm just trying to keep you company, Mr. Barnes. I know it can be lonely in here."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I don't need company. I need to heal and get out of this hellhole."

Her smile faltered, and she looked hurt. But Bucky couldn't bring himself to care. He had more important things to worry about than hurting the feelings of a chatty nurse.

As the days went on, Bucky found himself becoming more and more irritated with Y/n. She was always there, hovering over him, and he couldn't escape her constant attention. He started to resent her presence, even though he knew that she was just doing her job.

One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy exercises, she accidentally brushed against his metal arm. Bucky winced, and she immediately pulled back.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Barnes. Did that hurt?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

Bucky gritted his teeth. "Yeah, it hurt. What did you expect, with that clumsy move?"

Y/n looked at him with hurt in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm just trying to help you get better."

Bucky glared at her. "You're not helping. You're just getting in the way."

She sighed. "I know you don't like me very much, Mr. Barnes. But I'm just trying to do my job. I want to make sure you're getting the best possible care."

Bucky scoffed. "Yeah, right. You just want to make yourself feel better. You think that if you can fix me, you'll be some kind of hero."

Y/n looked hurt and shocked by his words. "That's not true, Mr. Barnes. I don't help people to make people think I'm the hero; that I'm some sort of saviour for humanity. All I want to do is help people, that's all."

Bucky shook his head. "Save it for someone who cares. I never needed or wanted your help."

As the days went on, Bucky's attitude towards Y/n didn't improve. But despite his constant complaints and snarky remarks, she never gave up on him. She was always there, by his side, offering him words of encouragement and support.

One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy, Bucky felt a twinge of pain in his leg. He winced, and she immediately stopped what she was doing.

"Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

Bucky looked up at her, and for the first time, he saw her in a different light. He saw the kindness in her eyes, the determination in her voice, and the genuine care in her actions. He realised that he had been wrong about her all along. She wasn't annoying, she was kind and caring.

Bucky felt a strange feeling in his chest as he looked at her. He couldn't believe that he had been so blind to her kindness before. She had been nothing but patient and supportive towards him, even when he had been rude and ungrateful.

"I'm fine," he muttered, feeling embarrassed by his outburst. "Sorry for snapping at you."

She smiled warmly at him. "It's okay, Mr. Barnes. I understand that you're in pain, and it can be frustrating."

Bucky nodded, feeling grateful for her understanding. "I guess I've just been a bit of a jerk to you, haven't I?"

She shrugged. "It's okay. I know that you didn't mean it."

Bucky sighed, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. "Thanks for being patient with me, Y/n. I really appreciate it."

Y/n grinned at him. "Of course, Mr. Barnes. That's what I'm here for."

From that day on, Bucky's attitude towards her began to change. He found himself looking forward to her visits, and he even started to engage in conversations with her. They talked about everything from the latest movies to popular music trends, and Bucky found himself enjoying her company more and more.

One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy, Bucky realised that he didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay with him, to keep talking to him, to keep being there for him.

"Y/n," he said suddenly, as she was packing up her supplies. "Do you want to grab a coffee or something after your shift ends?"

She looked surprised, but she smiled. "Sure, Mr. Barnes. I'd love that."

"Call me Bucky, doll."

Bucky grinned, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He couldn't believe that he was actually looking forward to spending time with the woman he had once despised. But as he looked at her, he realised that she was more than just a nurse to him. She was a friend, a confidante, and maybe even something more.

As they walked out of the hospital together, Bucky felt a strange feeling of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he had finally found someone who could help him heal his damaged heart.

A/N who doesn't love the enemies to lovers trope? It's personally a favourite of mine 🥰

tagging the usual...please lemme know if you'd like to be added or removed.

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee 

[satureja13]

The Boys rode through the pouring rain across the Bridge over to Koh Sahpa. And the horses stopped by a stilt house. Jack: "Are we going to stay here? Woah! When I showed Ji Ho the beach after he arrived we saw a stilt house and we talked about how awesome they are and we asked Arturo if we can buy a lot here to build one..." Vlad: "Arturo told us. Kiyoshi, Jeb and I built it to make it up to you. It's not finished yet. You were only supposed to see it later. " (So that was their secret project!) So Kiyoshi built this house. For Jack. (Even Lunatic is stunned ^w^)

So Jeb built this house. For Saiwa. Sai had put all his hopes in that circuit board because he has no idea how he is supposed to look Jeb in the eyes again after they 'agreed' that Sai should give in to a fake relationship with Kiyoshi to bring him back from the tree. Because they thought Kiyoshi is Saiwa's fated mate. But he wasn't. Saiwa stared into nowhere... Before Sai could follow these thoughts further he got distracted by the noise of the singing birds. Why are they so loud? Bird... (They really are so loud here ö.Ö') He has no idea how to go on.

Vlad: "Look after them and try to finish the rest." (Yeah I know. Who would trust crazy Jack with looking after anyone? Usually he is the one they need to look after and care for. But Vlad trusts him. Because he knows the Jack behind his disorders and antics (and the ones who know adult Jack from our other stories know it too :3) And he knows that he can rely on him when it comes to it.) Jack: "You're leaving? What about the Bond?" Vlad: "Jeb and Kiyoshi need me. They are broken too. I will feel it when it's due to charge the Bond."

Jack: "When you feel it Ji Ho already suffers. He has the deeper connection to the Bond. Don't let him beg for it. The intervals are always the same when you don't use it's magic. Just come here in time and do it." Vlad: "Uhm. Ok." Vlad and his foolish pride and reluctance. Luci had been bolder... And Ji Ho often said that he doesn't mind physical intimacy with Vlad.

Then it was time for Vlad to leave - to look after Jeb and Kiyoshi... He is hesitating.

And Jack took Saiwa inside to give them time to get their stuff together. Oh my, after all they already did with each other they still behave like this...

Vlad: "The Bond. I will be back before..." Ji Ho: "Ok."

They held on to each other a bit longer than usual. Maybe the Bond hates it to see them apart or maybe they will miss each other. Who knows?

Vlad left and Ji Ho went inside. Ji Ho: "Oh. He's already sleeping. I hope he changes his mind about Tiny Can. I could really need some help from a therapist. Even if it's only an AI." Jack: "An AI is even better! He knows everything and is always up to date with the latest research and discoveries! He must have scanned countless articles, diagnoses, therapy approaches, research papers... I'm so ready to try it and get stuff fixed in my furry brain."

They sighed and turned around to take in the view. And just across the river there was the stilt house they had admired a few weeks ago. Just the one Kiyoshi, Vlad and Jeb built is so much more beautiful. Because they built it with love 💞

'There's a message in the wild And I'm sending you this signal tonight You don't know how desperate I've become And it looks like I'm losing this fight

In your world I have no meaning Though I'm trying hard to understand And it's my heart that's breaking Down this long distance line tonight

But I ain't missing you at all Since you've been gone away I ain't missing you No matter what I might say'

Missing You - John Waite Link above leads to the MV on youtube

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[dira333]

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part IV

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 4: (2,1k words)

You’re a good teacher.

He’d known before but it becomes clearer now. 

He’s still got problems with fine motor skills, his fingers often too stiff to tie ribbons or cut the smallest branches without damaging the rest of a Bonsai but he’s learning so much, not just about taking care of plants but other things as well.

The old ladies that used to coo at your friendly gifts now flock around him, tell him about their grandkids and ask for his opinion on what to buy them.

He figures out quickly which students like his snarky comments and who’s appreciative of being guided toward a cheaper alternative.

The week after he gets his ZZ plant, he can choose between a bouquet or an indoor plant.

“You don’t even know if I’ve taken good care of him.”

“Well, have you?” You ask, pushing the sleeves of your cardigan up your arms as you prepare to dig into the roots of fiddle-leaf fig, the sight of your bare underarms distracting him for a second.

“Of course. But that’s not the point.”

“Bring him in tomorrow then if you want me to review your work.” You cheekily smile up at him. “Even if you’re just fishing for compliments.”

He picks a golden pothos for his therapist, knowing that he desperately needs a plant to light up that office while also knowing he can’t take that free bouquet and gift it to you, even if he’s starting to want to.

🌺.

Three months later you’ve fallen into a rhythm. 

Every second Friday after closing you let him into your apartment where, after a grilled cheese sandwich and a shared bowl of soup, he waters your plants and renames them.

Bob’s doing so well, he’s already a parent, one of his kids now sitting on Fuyumi’s shelf. 

Hawks has put in a request for more Bouquets for his agency, as well as his father and Shouto, who in turn has seemingly told all his classmates about this great flower shop downtown.

Touya would love how much more money you’re making now if all those customers wouldn’t cut into the time he gets to spend with you.

At least the purple-haired gremlin Shouto calls a classmate hasn’t shown up since he scared him off. He doesn’t like guys buying flowers as an excuse to check you out, especially when they’re too cheap to buy a proper bouquet.

🌺.

“No grilled cheese today.” You tell him one Friday evening as you close the door and turn the key. “I’m buying you dinner.”

His heart skips traitourously.

“You sure your plants can survive without my care?” He jokes and you grin.

“Positive. Now grab your jacket and let's head out.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, multiple things. We’ve got so much business now we’ll have to start dividing our orders into two different pick-up dates. What do you think of Tuesday and Thursday? We could use Monday and Wednesday to make the bouquets.”

“And the other reasons?”

You laugh, clearly figuring out that there’s no use in redirecting his thoughts. 

“I don’t believe in anniversaries but I’ve heard people say that it’s always hardest after the third month, so I thought you could use a little celebration.”

He looks at you, calculates the slope of your nose against the curve of your lips, and cocks his head to the side.

“And the last thing?”

You sober up quickly, looking down the street into the dark night, the sign of a gas station glowing in the distance.

“Today’s the anniversary of my father’s death.” You look up at him, your eyes open and vulnerable. “I like to do something nice for someone else on that day. As a gift to the world, you know?”

He doesn’t know. But it fits you. Like green aprons and cardigans, white shirts, and grilled cheese.

-

“Do you want to talk about him?”  

You walk in silence for a while, the same comfortable silence he’s shared with you since he’s met you, until eventually you open your mouth.

“We have the same quirk. It has been in our family for generations. My great-great-grandmother was a hero, actually. She made sure to marry someone who complimented her quirk and so on and so forth, until my father decided to marry someone quirkless, to not be a hero, or even a fancy landscaper. He just wanted a normal, comfortable life.”

You point at the door or the restaurant and he follows you, feeling like your story isn’t over yet, but not ready to push you to talk when you never do that with him.

The restaurant isn’t fancy, but it’s not fast food either, telling him that you’re spending quite some money when he’s seen how you live and knows how much the shop used to bring in.

When the waiter leaves your table and he opens his menu, you lean across the table to whisper, bringing along a scent he’s grown so familiar too. The scent of earth and greenery, of flowers and foliage, of you and your shop and your home.

“Sorry, what?” He shakes his head to clear his mind, realizing he missed every word you’ve just said.

“I said if you’re not against sharing they have this amazing combination of gyoza dumpling and melted cheese. They line the Gyoza up and when the cheese is melted you can dip the gyoza in. You can choose what the fillings are and if you want other dips for it but it’s usually a serving for two.”

He blinks at the giddiness lighting up your face. He’d never been especially inclined towards cheese until his mind started linking it to you and now, linking it to you being happy.

“Of course.” He hears himself say and sees you lighting up even more. “But if we order it, we have to go full in. Filled with cheese to dip in cheese. We’re not cowards after all.”

You giggle and he looks back down at the menu to keep himself from staring, glad that his skin grafts cannot blush.

When the waiter returns, however, he’s pulling a face that spells uncomfortableness.

“I’m sorry.” He says, clutching his notepad with both hands. “But I’m… well, I was made aware that we cannot serve you.”

“What do you mean?” Your face is full of confusion while Touya catches on faster. 

“He means he can’t serve me.” He explains and the way the man cringes tells him everything he needs to know.

“It’s alright.” He says when he feels that it’s not, in fact, alright. “I’ll just see you tomorrow then.”

“No.” Your hand’s flat on the table and your voice serious. “Matsumoto-kun, you’ll be serving us.”

“I’m sorry, please, I-”

“Leave it.” Touya tells you, the hard line of your mouth something he hasn’t seen before.

“Is there a problem?” Behind Matsumoto, a new face appears.

“Yes.” You’re standing now, smaller than the two men, but standing your ground. “You’re taking part in the rehabilitation agreement, yet you’re not willing to serve a member of the same agreement. I don’t want to do this but I will have to make a formal complaint if you continue to refuse us service.”

“Madam.” The man behind Matsumoto, obviously the manager, is wringing his hands now. “This isn’t about the agreement. You have to understand what your companion did-”

“It doesn’t matter who he is or what he has done.” You tell them sharply. “He could be Tomura Shigaraki and it would still be your duty to serve him as a customer if he came in here as part of the Rehabiliation agreement.”

“This isn’t our decision,” Matsumoto whispers, eyes looking everywhere but at Touya himself who’s now standing himself, hand on your arm as if that would do something but ground himself.

“Come on.” He tells you. “Not today.”

And somehow he’s said the right thing because you nod and grab your purse and your jacket, following him out of the restaurant.

Five steps from the door he can hear you curse under your breath.

Ten steps from the door he can hear you sniffle and when he turns, you’re full on crying, fat tears dripping down your face.

“Hey. Hey, don’t cry about that. It’s not worth it.”

“It is!” You disagree wetly. “They shouldn’t treat you this way and now I’m mad and I’m hungry and I’m upset that I always cry when I’m mad, and-”

“If it would make you feel better you could let weeds grow in front of their door.”

“They would just pull it out, that’s just hurting the plants.” You complain but you’re almost smiling now.

He’s grinning back at you. “We could spray paint their windows. Egg the front. Put toilet paper over the door.”

“What are you? Five?” 

He laughs and you laugh with him, frozen on the sidewalk in your shared little bubble.

“There’s a Kentucky Fried Chicken down the street, isn’t it?” He asks. “They have cheese fries. It’s not as good as dipping cheesy Gyoza into melted cheese but would it satisfy your cheesy needs?”

“You make me sound like an addict.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

-

He watches you pop another cheese-covered fry into your mouth and feels only a little weird about it.

“Feeling better?” He asks, chewing on his straw.

“A bit. But I’m still going to put in a formal complaint. It’s not okay.”

“It’s been a year. It’s going to take some time.”

“Still. God, now I can never go back there again and I don’t know anyone else who offers that dish.” You complain.

“I could learn how to make it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and he bites his tongue, regretting them immediately when you pinch your brows.

“I didn’t know you can cook.” You offer him an easy way out and he shrugs.

“I don’t. But it doesn’t sound that hard.”

You laugh. “Oh, it is. Why do you think I only offer you Miso soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?”

“Because that’s your favorite food?”

“True. But it’s also the only thing I can make. Well, when the sun’s in the right position and the moon’s not looking, I can also make a fried egg.”

He laughs at that. 

“You seem so talented, I thought you’d be good at everything.”

Your smile wavers and you wipe your fingers, signaling you’re done with your food.

“Want to take a walk?” You ask and he nods, throwing away the trash and meeting you at the door.

Something in him wants to take your hand, make sure your pulse is still the same as always, that you’re fine and well and there with him, but he knows that’s not the whole reason.

He wants to take your hand because he wants to hold it and feels like a ZZ plant that’s been put in a dark spot, longing for more light and scared it might burn him at the same time.

He doesn’t put his hands in his pockets, lets them hang by his side loosely, hoping against hope that your hand will knock into his as if a ray of sunlight might accidentally come his way.

-

“My father died five years ago.” You tell the night sky above you. “He had a heart attack and died in his sleep. I miss him every day. And I know he’d be proud of me. Of what I’m doing and how I’m doing it. He’d love my apartment and my shop and even if he’d call every bouquet I make perfection, he’d still pluck around in it, because he couldn’t let anything go untouched. Isn’t that love, that you love something not only despite its imperfections but simply because of them?”

Heaviness settles in his gut yet again as your words sink in. 

You look at him and he wonders if you’re talking about him too. 

He thinks about his parents, his siblings, his friends - if he can call them that. 

He wonders if they love him despite his imperfections and he wonders if he loves them.

“My mother remarried three years ago. And I’m happy for her, because her new husband is really nice, and she’s happy. But they moved, about two years ago, to America of all places. Plane tickets are expensive.”

“It gets lonely sometimes.” He says, not really knowing why until you nod.

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “Yeah.”

He wants to say that he’s here now. That you can lean on him. That he’ll be there for you.

But he doesn’t. Because he can’t. He shouldn’t. He won’t.

So he doesn’t say anything and it seems to be the right thing, allowing the two of you to walk in silence through the dark.

taglist: @misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat @chelseaquake

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