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harrysonlylover · 4 months

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Karma Rules (Mechanic Harry Part 6)

Summary: A phone call from Niall and its aftermath changes your perspective. Can a fairytale be fixed?

Warnings: alcoholism, drunk harry, over drinking, unhealthy coping, miscommunication, angst, mentions of alcohol abuse, hangover.

Please do not read if these trigger you.

Wc: 8k

A/n: Please keep in mind that this is just fan-fiction and some bits about the hangover may not be 100% true, as every individual is different than the other and deals with it in an another way.

Rereading part 5 is good for refreshing your mind!

This is also the final part!

Part 5

When it came to receiving good and bad news, people generally preferred getting the bad news first so that the good ones would soothe them. You followed that preference as well, but you didn’t always have a choice.

Not when you moved away from home, not when your car broke down, not when you discovered the truth about your “job”.

And certainly not right now.

The phone was still pressed to your ear, Niall’s voice was coming out muffled and incoherent. Your heart was banging against your ribcage, and still, the blood barely reached your other organs. You couldn’t move, or put two and two together. Not even ask him what happened.

The room was suddenly dark despite the lit light bulbs in every corner, the clock necklace that you didn’t even get to thank Harry for was ticking around your neck. It was the only sound you could hear as if it was torturing you on purpose.

Tick tock.

A reminder that whatever happened to Harry was your fault. Maybe if you had stayed—

It wasn’t an ideal timing for your brain to taunt you and make you feel pathetic. Niall’s voice was calling for you, asking if you were listening but you were simply trying to pull yourself back to the present.

Your body fell against the sofa, and you dug your nails into the cushions. The clock was still piercing your ears because you could grab it right now and reverse it but you won’t go back in time to change whatever had happened.

What did he get himself into?

“Are you listening to me?” Niall’s panicked voice urged you to focus. You were obliged to ignore the nausea and the guilt your brain was throwing already. Because that’s how things went every time, you only needed a simple situation for your brain to torture you.

“Can you repeat what you said?” Your throat was as dry as the desert. You thought about standing up and getting a glass of water, but you’re not sure if your hands would be able to hold it.

“It’s Harry! He’s fucking drunk—way too drunk. He doesn’t drink Y/n, he hates alcohol.” His tone told you all you needed to know. It pained Niall to say it like he was on the verge of tears.

Was he talking about the same Harry that drank herbal teas and scolded your food choices? You were somewhat worried that he might have gotten into a car accident at a race, but he didn’t. So why does this feel worse?

“I—what?” It wasn’t the best you could say in a conversation like this, but it was better than the radio silence.

“Listen, he’s in a really bad state. He’s lucky that he’s a bit conscious.” He sighed, clearly worried about his friend.

It was nearly nine, not so late in the evening. For how long was he drinking to get to this state? You never saw him drink nor did he open the subject. Your legs moved before you processed what you were doing.

“I’m coming.” You spoke as you headed toward your bedroom.

“I didn’t want to stress you, and I know you’re wondering why I chose to call you but he’s been mumbling things about you.” You stopped in your tracks at his last sentence, your fingers placed at the light switch, too numb to move.

“What did he say?” You whispered in a shaky voice.

“I—don’t know, it was all weird and—“ His voice was cut off as his attention turned to Harry. He mentioned some things about drinking water and lying back. The last thing you expected was for Harry to speak.

“Did ya know that she smells like strawberries?” It took him longer to say the sentence than normal. It came out slurred with hiccups, and a small laugh.

“Shit—drink water H.” You could hear Niall pouring him a water cup.

“Sweeettt. Y/n is sweet.” Niall didn’t have to answer your previous question, you were witnessing it yourself.

It is said that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, and that scared you more than it comforted you. Niall was trying to soothe Harry, and get him to have that cup of water but to no avail.

“I’m not nice. She deserves nice.” His words weren’t as coherent but you caught some stuff through the speaker as you put on a random jumper and sweatpants.

“I’m coming Niall.”

“You don’t have to—I’m here.” He moved away from Harry whose voice got distant but was still mumbling stuff.

“No, I’ll be there shortly.” You hung up before he could object.

It would take you around 15 minutes on your bike, normally you avoided going out when it was dark but you didn’t have any rational thoughts swimming in your head.

Your mind was consumed by him the entire road. Why would he do that? Just because you left? But again—you were no one to him. Just an employee. So why did he mention you and blurt out weird stuff?

He might have kissed you and let down his guard a couple of times but that didn’t mean anything, right?

It’s surely not a big deal, everyone probably knew that your hair smelled like strawberries, that you’re sweet, and deserved someone nice. Or did they not?

You had nothing in mind on what to expect, you didn’t even know what you were planning to do—but you weren’t going to sit around at home while he was in this state.

All the overthinking kept you busy until you reached his house. The little yellow home that reminded you of warmth, is now radiating coldness. You dreaded going inside, fearing what would be awaiting you.

Was it your fault? Did that mean that you mattered to him?

You got off your bike, grabbed your bag, and headed slowly towards the front door. Niall must have left the door slightly open for you, but before entering—something jumped at your legs.

You looked down to see an antsy Snowbun circling around your feet.

“What are you doing out here?” Per your knowledge, he should be asleep in his small bed by now. You picked him up and cradled him in your hands.

“Are you running away from Harry or Niall?” The latter was his sworn enemy. Snowy replied by twitching his ears, earning a smile from you.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” You scratched the top of his head before turning the doorknob and entering.

The once vibrant house filled with music sounding from the record player, and the smell of home-cooked meals was now dull and cold. It could be the open windows allowing the night breeze to sneak in, or the absence of Harry’s energy.

Everything was a mess.

The living room was untidy, and there were broken shards of glass around the floor with the smell of whiskey lingering in the air.

It wasn’t necessarily dirty, but it somewhat reflected Harry’s state, as his house could mimic his inner feelings. Snow Bun jumped out of your hand and headed towards his bed in the corner.

For a hot minute, you thought that Niall left considering how empty the house felt, until you heard his voice coming from Harry’s room.

“Hey—just lay here.” Niall seemed like he was trying to convince Harry to rest. You sneaked a glance inside the room, only to find Harry attempting to get up and walk—towards you.

“Not dreaming.” He let out a small laugh upon seeing you.

Niall sent you a soft smile before directing his attention back to Harry.

You have never seen him in such a state. His face looked like he had aged a hundred years, his eyes were tired and hollow, and he was barely conscious.

You stood motionless, trying to process his situation, what he had done and most importantly why.

You wanted to step forward and assist Niall who was lifting him to the bed, but your body was stuck in its place. You have seen your fair share of situations and were always unaffected, but Harry had an unusual effect on you, and maybe—you did too.

“Shortcake.” He hiccuped again, accepting the cup of water this time. He took two sips only and rested his head against the headboard.

You were aware of his direct stares, but you didn’t speak or move. You bit your nails as Niall tucked him under the duvet. He was slowly dozing off by the minute, with less mumbling that you didn’t quite catch.

The room went silent except for the sound of crickets coming from the window. You stole a glance at Harry who sounded so relaxed while sleeping despite his disturbed state.

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sure that he slept, at least he would get some rest.

“How much did he drink?” You whispered to Niall with a scratchy voice.

“The whole fucking bottle.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and motioned for you to leave the room.

You closed the bedroom door and followed him into the living room. He began picking up the shards of glass, so you kneeled to help him.

“How did you know that he was drunk?” Niall was visibly upset with what went down, he was his close friend after all.

“I didn’t… I just happened to pass by. I haven’t heard from him in a while.” He shook his head in disbelief, so you assumed that whatever this was, it wasn’t common.

You picked up the remaining pieces and disposed of them in a bag. You arranged the rest of the living room silently with Niall, but the silence was just too loud.

“Niall?” He turned his head to you.

“Yeah?”

“Most people get drunk—like it’s not right but it happens. Why did you freak out?” Your curiosity was getting the best out of you. You weren’t dismissing Harry’s state—it just didn’t make sense.

Niall dropped the broom to the ground and took a seat on the couch.

“Harry has had a rough past y’know? It wasn’t ideal.” You sat down as well, giving him your attention.

“He had an abusive alcoholic father. It’s not my place to say much, but it left an impact on him.” He spoke as if Harry was his biological brother. It was clear that he cared for him deeply.

You swallowed down your throat upon Niall’s confession. He hated alcohol. It must have reminded him of darker days. He barely opened up about his childhood to you, but many things clicked for you.

“I’m sorry that I troubled you. I was just shocked because he never got drunk, let alone drank in the first place.” He clasped his hands together and spoke with sorrow.

“He was in the worst state ever. I couldn’t understand why he kept talking about you.” He swiped his hand through his hair and gulped down a cup of water.

“What did he say?” Your voice was timid and small like you were dreading to know the truth. It may deny or confirm something.

“Stuff about you being an angel, that he messed up?” He shook his head, trying to remember some details.

“Also that you were too delicate or something.” He scrunched his face at his lack of memory, unaware of your expression.

Is that what Harry thought of you? It was so overwhelming to find out all of this within a short time frame when his actions did not reflect what Niall was saying.

You didn’t doubt that Harry was a good man, not at all. But to hear these words so casually, as if they weren’t the sweetest things you have been told—

“Sorry—I didn’t know he had feelings for you.” Niall broke the silence.

“Feelings?” You questioned, attempting to control the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I mean—the way he spoke about you…it was emotional. I called you because I thought he’d need you.” He scratched the top of his head, rethinking what he had done.

“It might have been something destructive because he never drank—“ He didn’t complete his sentence, and stared at the wall instead.

He must have caught on to your cluelessness and took a step back. You were picking at your nails with your head lowered down. Everything hit you like a rollercoaster and you needed space.

“You don’t have to stay Niall. I can manage.” You assured him.

“I can stay, I don’t mind.”

“You’ve done a lot already. You’re a good friend.” You tipped him a smile and he understood the cue.

“If you need anything, just call me.” He stood up and walked towards the door, before giving you one last glance and leaving.

Conveniently, Snow Bun ran in your direction as soon as Niall was out of the door. The little bunny jumped on your lap and got himself all cozy.

You instinctively patted his head and cradled him. A few tears fell down your cheeks against your will. You pushed back everything you were thinking of and walked to the refrigerator.

“Are you hungry? Harry probably couldn’t feed you.” Just the thought itself made you incredibly sad for no reason. Perhaps, it’s the fact that underneath it all, Harry was just a guy who loved his privacy and spent time with his bunny.

The more you recalled nice gestures that he did, the more tears fell. You weren’t sobbing, but everything was hitting you all at once. Whatever you processed this evening was hard to consume, even in small doses.

Snow Bun immediately began nibbling at the strawberry you offered him. You couldn’t help but recall when Harry fed him in front of you, it was a happier night.

You’re glad that he feels safe to take food from you. Was he able to sense Harry’s mood?

You offered him another strawberry which he ate comfortably like a baby. You placed two more for him in his bowl and cleaned up around the house to pass the time.

There wasn’t much to do, a few dirty pans, messy pillows and blankets all over the place, and a bit of Snowy’s dry food that fell out of his plate.

You opened more windows and lit a candle to allow the whiskey smell to fade. Thankfully, the broken glass was the first thing you and Niall cleaned up—but you were still skeptical about it.

You picked up the broom that Niall dropped earlier and cleaned under the couch to make sure that there was no glass left.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest upon wondering how it shattered. Did he lose his balance and drop it? Or did he do it out of frustration?

Your train of thought was interrupted when the broom collided with something. You could feel that it wasn’t glass, so you pulled it in your direction and reached your hand under the couch to grasp it.

It was a notebook.

It was already open, and your eyes landed on what was written. You flinched, feeling disrespectful for taking a glance despite not helping it. You wouldn’t want someone to look through your journal—but your eyes were glued to the words.

A few lines were scribbled at the top of the page including your name with Harry’s handwriting that you memorized so well. Yet, these lines were blurred out due to the scribbling—but you could make out the word ‘apricity’.

Underneath them were the clear unscratched lines that made you let out a silent gasp.

Starry haze, crystal ball

Somehow, you’ve become some paranoia

Just like a nepenthe

But your gift is wasted on me

You allowed your fingers to touch the paper, to make sure that this was real and that you weren’t hallucinating.

You quickly moved on to the lines under them and your knees nearly buckled.

I was thinking about who you are

Your delicate point of view, I

Was thinking about you

The last line ended on a whim and was more of a question than a sentence.

Just you?

You closed the notebook and threw it on the couch like it was poison. You were breathing heavily and your legs carried you straight to the refrigerator for the cup of water you’ve needed since Niall called.

You gulped down two cups frantically as if it would help you process or erase what you read.

Finding out that Harry most likely drank because of you, and might have had feelings for you was enough. But to see that he wrote lyrics about you?

Maybe it was scary because it was a concrete confirmation. It shut down the overthinking and the endless questions just with a glance at a piece of paper.

The suffocation was threatening to close up your chest, not caring about the soft night breeze and the lit candle that smelled like Harry.

It seemed as if his secrets were unfolding with any action that you took. There’s only so much you could handle in one night, so you laid down on the couch. You will sleep here, you won’t leave him alone.

You covered yourself with a blanket and were soon joined by Snow Bun who made himself comfortable next to you.

You contemplated grabbing a book from your bag but even that doesn’t seem to work anymore.

You wondered what could soothe a person if not books.

Still, there wasn’t much you could do. It was close to eleven and you would soon fall asleep—but until then your mind would get the chance to torment you.

What will you do when he wakes up? Will you have the courage to ask him about everything? Does he even want you around?

These questions and many more went through your head as you shifted on the couch. Though, that seemed to annoy Snowy who was trying to sleep, unaware of all the troubles.

Being a bunny is quite easy. ——————————————————

Harry struggled to open his eyes. His brain didn’t aid him and was not functioning properly, the same way car engines fail to roar. A tiny grunt left his lips, he was attempting to regain his consciousness, despite being overwhelmed.

A sharp pain stemmed from his head, the one people get from being beaten with a bat. He felt out of place as if he switched bodies with a completely different person who neglected themselves.

His bones and muscles didn’t ache—but the fatigue was embedded in all of his atoms.

Another grunt was elicited, followed by a hiss. The morning sun sneaked through the window, casting its light on his tired figure. It burned his eyes and worsened the pounding headache he felt.

His mouth was dry like a man who hadn’t taken a sip in days, he could feel it with every grunt as he swallowed down his throat in an attempt to hydrate his system.

“What the—“ He mumbled, forcing his eyes to open again as he collected the energy to raise his hand and shield his face from the sun.

The neurons in his brain worked hard to transmit signals. He needed just one memory to recall—a reason even to understand what led him to this state.

He buried his face in the pillow, relieving himself from the sting of the morning light. He groaned as the headache became unbearable.

What did he do last night?

The few cells that got to work urged him to connect things and conclude a reason—the headache, fatigue, and memory loss all pointed towards the unthinkable.

But no, he wouldn’t. Right?

He possessed great self-control, confided his sister in when he felt suffocated, and would never allow himself to resort to a destructive outlet.

No matter how torn he felt, how maimed and beaten his heart was—he prided himself in needing no one and repressing his sadness.

Right?

His muscles worked together to lift his body slowly. He supported himself on the mattress with his hands and observed his surroundings with squinted eyes.

Everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. The bedroom was tidy and neat, the way he always maintained it.

Yet, his attire had him confused. He never went to sleep with his work clothes, he either slept shirtless or with a clean tank top.

He couldn’t help but bring his hand to his temple. The pain was unbearable, flashing like thunder and echoing in his skull.

Attempting to piece some bits of information together was a tough task, let alone when he couldn’t quite remember whatever went down the previous day.

His senses gave him a push until his brain connected some dots and realized what his mouth felt like besides dryness.

It was Whiskey.

“No—“ It would be a reasonable justification. His body warned him when he first opened his eyes, but he was in denial.

Fatigue, muscle aches, headache, thirst, and in his case— feeling like absolute shit.

“What did I do?” He groaned, in response to his pain and stupidness.

He’s had his fair share of atrocious headaches and fatigue, yet he was never subjected to immense emotional maim that led him to this state. Not even in his younger years. He vowed to never touch a bottle in his life. He had a few beers as a teenager, but that was the extent.

He never wished to become a spitting image of his sperm donor or inflict harm upon others using alcohol.

Something that he must have done.

Recalling the cause of his ache was effortless; not because of its intensity or his functioning memory. But because he simply could never push someone like you out of his mind, even when he was in a foggy state.

“Y/n.” He whispered under his breath.

He was in shambles upon reading your letter. He needed an outlet to empty his pain. A pain that he inflicted upon himself and you.

It was an internal battle; treating you like shit to push you away, when all he wanted was to hold you and kiss your soft lips.

How could he even dare to have you? The most delicate being he ever met. You were an angel that fell on earth accidentally. Maybe god was searching for you, but Harry wanted you selfishly to himself.

He didn’t deserve you, well no one did actually—but a boy could dream.

Your soft aura and charming personality would never fit in a million years with his dark heart and destructive thoughts. You were so delicate that he feared breaking you, and if that ever happened, he’d never forgive himself.

He was a weak man when it came to you. Your contagious smile, books, warm personality, and kind manners. Love was never on his agenda, he didn’t even have any vision for his future. Nothing but his career maybe, but of course, you’d tip his scales over.

You became his dream, someone that he wished he could have. He didn’t realize that his heart was betraying him, leading the tide against his rational thoughts.

In some way, he was a prisoner of your presence. You simply had to walk inside the room he was in, and all his problems would evaporate.

Even when he first met you, despite his cold tone and expression, he was deeply enamored by you. He never wanted to find out information about a person this bad, he needed to know who you were.

He didn’t consider himself a dedicated reader, sometimes a book here and there but—a philosophy he once read stuck with him.

The philosophy of Descartes, his dualism, and the notion of mind and body being distinct, yet intimately related. It was logical to him to a certain extent but as of late, Harry created his philosophy.

The mind and body were foes; often joining together to set up a scheme. This scheme was to torture Harry. His body belonged near you, but his heart kept him up at night. They were allies for once, simply to dismantle his sanity and imprint invisible bruises on his body.

And so they managed to trap him, render him a fool in front of you, and destroy any small chance he might have had.

He gathered all the energy left in his fatigued body and got up from his warm bed. The sun’s rays burned his eyes yet embraced his skin lovingly.

He wondered why Snow Bun wasn’t next to him, it was against his habit but maybe he was just roaming around the planted strawberries again.

The first thing up was brushing his teeth, getting rid of the awful smell was essential. He hoped he wouldn’t have to do this again.

The sight of his tired face in the mirror had him double checking. When did it get so unbearable?

For most people, this was barely an issue—but for Harry, it tipped his life upside down.

He doesn’t go well with emotions, communication or even figuring out what the other person wants.

“Shit.” He splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a clean cloth and drying it.

He would need a while to feel better again, to accept what had happened, and avoid leading himself to that state.

He had a quick cold shower to give himself the illusion of being clean, even when his system wasn’t. The fresh set of clothes and cologne elevated his mood, and the sting of the water helped with his headache.

He needed a nutritious meal despite the nausea bubbling in his stomach. Besides, where the hell was Snowy?

Harry reached for the doorknob as wet droplets from his hair fell on the ground. He barely advanced a few footsteps before stopping in his tracks.

He had an inkling that his feelings toward you, and the letter you left influenced his actions last night. But, seeing you asleep on his sofa with his bunny cuddled to your chest was not on his list.

He stood in the doorway with barely a few breaths coming in and out of his nose. As if a time traveler somehow arrived at this moment and froze his body.

Could he still be dreaming?

He wasn’t worthy of your presence, not even in his dreams.

He didn’t even deserve the wasted sun rays that hugged him earlier. They should’ve poured their focus on you, just like they were doing this instant. Your skin was covered with gold, somehow glistening more than any other human being. This is how an angel sleeps, he thought.

He was so jealous of the sun, envious even. It got to kiss every inch of your skin and keep you warm, unlike him.

The golden color stretched to your perfect hair, shut eyelids, and soft raspberry mouth. Your chest rose slowly, even your breathing was delicate.

He didn’t blame Snow Bun for liking you one bit, even a bunny knew how pure you were.

He didn’t mean to stare like a creep, but funnily enough, his pet blew his cover. Snowy awoke from his peaceful sleep and disrupted you in the process.

You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the moving bunny who had enough sleep. It seemed like you did too as your body felt satisfied with the hours you rested during.

The room was bathed in sunlight and warmth, and surprisingly to your right—was Harry standing motionless.

“Harry! You’re up.” Your legs moved before your brain processed anything. You were up on your feet in no time, facing a confused yet tired Harry.

“H—hi.” He swallowed down his throat.

“How are you feeling?” Your hair was all over the place and you couldn’t tell what your face looked like, but you had to check up on him.

The night went by quickly, and the next thing you knew, he was standing next to you, hopefully sober.

“Pretty shit.” He pressed his lips together, ignoring Snowy’s thumbing on the floor.

For an unknown reason, his response elicited a tiny giggle out of your lips. One that eased his headache.

“I—“

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You beat him, feeling way too curious.

You had a plethora of things to say and discuss, stuff you should’ve said long ago.

“Just a bit. Not the entire picture.” He bit on his tongue, feeling the blood drain from his body.

Standing in front of you, seeing you, and hearing a question that was brought up yesterday triggered a sudden flashback.

How Niall dragged him to bed as you stared at him with fear and worry.

So he fucked up again.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out before you managed a response.

“What for? You barely remember what happened.” You shrugged.

“Everything.” He averted his gaze downward in shame.

It was out of a movie scene, two individuals facing each other in a sunlit room, way too stuck in their heads to see right what’s in front of them.

This moment was ageless. Your torn expression and his sorrowful face. Your sympathy and his regret. A powerful duo indeed.

Only in instants like these was silence positively uncomfortable. The silent eye contact back and forth, uncaring for the ticks of the clock, or what lies behind the eyes. The invitation to open your hearts broadly for one another, without shame or hesitation. Just two young beings diving into each other’s souls, passing control over to their bodies and hearts; even if they betrayed them.

He offered you an immense amount of vulnerability that he’s never given to anyone, simply by eye contact.

As if your souls had a secret language that they used.

“I—“

“Well—“

You spoke at the same time before stopping in shock.

“You speak first.”

“No. You talked first.”

He gestured for you to speak, and you swore you have never seen him this polite and held back.

“Hmm. I know this isn’t an ideal timing and that it’s quite rough for you right now. But how about breakfast and a mature conversation?” You asked with your bottom lip hidden between your teeth.

“I’d love that.” He nodded with a weak smile. The only one you managed to get from him for what felt like ages.

You refreshed in the bathroom while Harry prepared breakfast. It was similar to when he cooked you lunch. The same aroma drifted in the air with the sound of the oil sizzling and the same warmth that radiated from the house.

But this time, it was more awkward knowing that a conversation awaits. What were you supposed to say, and should you take the initiative of starting small talk?

You washed your face with water for the second time, dreading the return to the kitchen. You offered to cook since you knew he wasn’t feeling well, but he insisted saying ‘It’s the least he could do’.

Snowy managed to follow you to the bathroom (after he had his breakfast), and you smiled at his excited thumping.

“Let’s go.” You cradled him and returned to where Harry was using his chef skills.

He looked up the moment you walked in, offering you a gentle smile. Your heart ached at his gesture for no reason.

“Are you feeling okay now?” You cleared your throat as you sat on a stool near the counter.

“Somewhat…My headache is a bit better.” He scratched his head, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, moving your attention to Snowy who was clueless and happy in your lap.

“I remembered some stuff.” He mumbled rather quickly as he flipped chocolate chip pancakes.

“Oh?” It was a good sign because you didn’t know how to tell him that he randomly mumbled stuff about you.

“Um, yeah…” He remained silent for a few seconds and checked in on the delicious scrambled eggs he was preparing.

“I’m sorry you had to see that last night.” His words reeked of shame and guilt. There was a sense of vulnerability in what went down, and for a man like him, it would be a hard pill to swallow. After all, someone else had seen his weakness.

“Harry, I—“

“No, just let me say a few things.” You hadn’t expected him to begin talking now. But, it seemed that you were too busy admiring his tired face to notice the plate he slid in front of you.

“Eat please.” He gestured to your plate with concern when he was the one who should be fuelling his body.

“You need it more.” You argued, with signs of worry flashing over your face.

Sweet sweet shortcake, Harry thought. Always putting others before you.

The look of determination on your face was evident. Besides, could he ever say no to you?

“Look, I’m eating.” He grabbed a pancake from his dish and took a bite.

You swallowed thickly and joined him in taking small bites of food. He felt more full just by watching you eat contently. He tried to ignore the whirling thoughts in his brain, whether or not you had dinner last night.

“I’m sorry again.” Harry gathered his courage and looked into your kind eyes.

“It wasn’t your responsibility to help me, nor Niall’s.” An undertone of pain was hidden in his voice.

“And it was all very immature of me.” You could tell that it was hard for him to maintain eye contact, you’d struggle too if you were in his place. So, you averted your gaze away to relieve him.

You didn’t interrupt him, it was clear that he had many things to say.

“I ruined your evening, made you worried, and had you sleep on an uncomfortable sofa.” He swallowed down his throat, with his fingers digging crescent marks on his palm.

“I’ve put you through so much just because I do not know how to communicate.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“We’re humans, we kind of designed to miscommunicate.” You shrugged.

“Not to this extent shortcake.” His eyes held the key to everything. You used to think of him as an enigma, or impossible puzzle. But now, he was like a flowing river that held all of his thoughts that had been pressing to come out.

“I—It’s not an excuse but I’m not a fan of alcohol and I’ve never been drunk.” He swiped his hand through his hair, finally caving into his anxiety and averting his gaze.

Going with the flow and confessing that you knew was not an option. You wanted him to open his heart out instead of making him feel like he was already exposed.

“And my father was an alcoholic—“ He took a deep breath and remained silent for a few moments.

“Harry, you don’t have to push yourself to talk.” You whispered despite being alone in the room.

The signs of tiredness on his face were somehow getting worse, and a single tear slid down his cheek. Your hand immediately reached out to wipe it, making him stare lovingly.

He didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he softly grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles with his eyes shut as if he were pouring something into the kiss.

“Sweet shortcake.” He gave you a hint of a smile as he gazed into your eyes.

“A fly wouldn’t dare to hurt you, yet I did.”

“Stop blaming yourself.” You grabbed a strawberry from his plate and brought it to his mouth. He accepted it contently and went back to silence.

The staring was not unpleasant like you thought it’d be. It was a continuation of standing in front of each other in the living room. Just two souls speaking in a different language.

He caught you off guard by breaking the silence with a shocked yet joyful expression.

His hand reached out to your neck where the necklace was dangling beautifully. He ran his fingers over it, before turning it backward and smiling at the engraving.

“You wore it.”

“Of course, might be my favorite necklace so far.” His smile was so broad that he seemed as if he had forgotten all about life’s worries.

“It suits you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Because it’s special. Uncle George gave it to me and told me all about it after I left your garage.” You unintentionally broke the joyful bubble by reminding Harry of the awful events that led to this moment.

His expression slowly fell until his hand retracted away from the necklace.

“Harry—about that letter, it was immature of me. I should have faced you—“

“It’s completely your right. I’ve been so fucking shitty. I didn’t even deserve an explanation.”

“Don’t say that—“

“I’m serious. You wasted your kindness on me.” His hands were under the counter, but you had an inkling that they were shaking.

“I have a lot to explain and—“ He continued to ramble vigorously.

“H, breathe.” You stepped off the stool and went to his side.

He was rushing to tell you everything, not giving his body or mind a chance to process because he needed to explain himself. He’d go on his knees if he had to. His anxious rants and fast train of thought were nothing but an outcome of fear.

Fear of losing you.

A small part of him still believed that no matter what he said or did, you would still leave. Even if he ripped his heart out and gave it to you as it leaked black blood on the kitchen floor.

So he fired with everything that made him vulnerable, just to keep you, or at least the thought of you if you allowed.

And you knew that, god you knew. It had you fighting back tears as you faced him.

“You’re still very tired. And we don’t have to talk about every single detail right this instant. You need to rest, we both do.” Your hand caressed his cheek softly, and his face unconsciously leaned in.

“We need time to think, feel, and process what happened. I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I just won’t work for you anymore.” You weren’t the best confronter, but judging by the look in his eyes, you weren’t doing so bad.

“And—when the time is right, we’ll talk about many things.” It was your turn to tear up now, and of course, he mimicked what you did earlier by wiping your tears away.

“Can I say one last thing?”

“Yes.”

“You have bewitched me, body and soul.” He took pride in saying it, his eyes raking all over your face to save your reaction in his memory.

The slow appearance of your dimples, the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the realization dawning on your face followed by the most adorable giggle he has ever heard.

“Did you just quote Mr.Darcy!” You covered your mouth with your hand.

“He’s my number one inspiration.” His dimples made an appearance and god you’ve missed them. They brought joy to his worn-out yet beautiful face.

There was a certain undertone to his statement that had you holding back another giddy smile. One of them indicated quite the resemblance between him and Mr.Darcy. How he was cold towards Lizzie at first when he was simply smitten all along.

‘He’s my number one inspiration’

Was your story similar to theirs? Was he your Mr.Darcy? Bitter yet soft when faced with the possibility of losing you?

Another suggestion that knocked the breath out of your lungs was the sentence that would follow.

‘You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, love you.’

He didn’t utter it, but the idea of him even quoting your favorite book ever sparked goosebumps all over your skin.

“How did you even know what he said?” His eyes were glued to your smiling face, and if he ever lost his memory, he begged any existing divine being to only keep this sight of you.

“I read it.” He confessed proudly as if he were an Emperor flaunting his possessions.

The bluebirds have arrived and made themselves comfortable near the window. They would soon begin their orchestra as scheduled.

“You read Pride & Prejudice?!” You gasped unintentionally, causing a faint blush to creep up his cheeks.

He hummed with a grin threatening to break on his face and chewed on some eggs as you admired him.

You ached to ask him why he read this specific book. A part of you knew, but the other part craved to hear it.

Harry read your favorite book.

“Actually… speaking of reading.” You swallowed down your throat and readied yourself for your confession.

He turned his attention to you, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You read a new book?”

“No—I’m in a reading slump honestly. My first one.” Your face fell, something that he immediately noticed.

“Oh—“

“It’s fine.” You shrugged, dismissing the issue. It did pain you but that wasn’t your current focus.

“What I wanted to say is that—I was cleaning some broken glass yesterday…” His jaw clenched at the mention of the glass. He didn’t think about the mess he caused, and bringing it up brought the guilt back.

“And I found something.” You were still trying to articulate proper words, but his facial expression saddened you.

Harry couldn’t decide if his brain wanted to pour its attention on blaming him for the broken glass or think about the ‘thing’ that you found.

“Yeah?”

“I did not mean to look—actually that’s a pathetic excuse.” You covered your face with your hands and let out a small groan.

“My eyes landed on some written stuff and I couldn’t stop reading your notebook.” You blurted it out as fast as possible, with an antsy body language.

“Shortcake—“

“I’m really sorry…that was rude of me, but I—“

“Calm down.” It was ironic how he managed to soothe you with two simple words.

“It’s all good, m’kay? Besides, the poem is about you shortcake.” Another proud confession left his lips as if what he said wasn’t so destructively beautiful.

You were always the reader, and never the writer. But Harry canceled both possibilities and made you the muse.

“I meant every word, and I always will.” He whispered as if the bluebirds would hear him and steal his sacred poem.

You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, your left knee was shaking and you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry this is a lot to take in.” You covered your face from embarrassment.

“No pressure, shortcake.” He assured you with a thousand knives going through his heart.

Snow Bun broke the tension by thumping repeatedly until Harry kneeled, and picked him up.

“Someone wants attention…” Harry chuckled before Snowy jumped out of his lap, straight to his plate on the counter, and helped himself to strawberries.

“…or my strawberries.” He shook his head in disappointment for falling into Snowy’s trap.

Your laughter echoed in the room, overshadowing the birds’ songs. A laughter that healed Harry, and reflected his happiness.

“Do you want more food? Are you full?” He gestured to your empty plate.

“Thank you H, I’m all good. I think I’ll head home now.” You got off the stool and grabbed your bag from the sofa.

“Yeah—Okay. Let me dress up quickly to drive you.” He was heading towards his bedroom before you stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I have my bike.”

“I insist, it’s the least I could do—“

“H, stop saying that. I promise I’ll be fine on my own.” He studied your facial expression to try and figure out if you genuinely do not need the ride.

“Besides, I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night, you should rest and I need some fresh air.” You tipped him an honest smile that had his heart pumping.

“Sure, whatever you like.” His hands were in his pockets as he stood facing you.

‘I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night’ had him frozen in his place.

It toyed with his heart and messed with his blood pressure. You said it so casually as if it didn’t indicate that someone cared about him—and not just anyone, it was you.

His shortcake, his delicate girl.

You walked towards the front door as Harry watched with intent eyes. After a few steps, you stopped and turned around in his direction.

He was taken aback by your action and straightened his posture.

“I’m really glad that you’re safe.” You blurted out, as you looked into his emerald eyes. He didn’t get the chance to form a response before you engulfed his body in a tight hug.

His hands immediately wrapped around your body, savoring what you offered. You warmed him up in a few moments more than the sun that woke him up.

A whiff of your strawberry shampoo was stuck in his nose and that was all he needed to feel better.

Somehow, his hands were perfectly molded for your waist, and your height was perfect for him to lower his head and lay it against yours.

Despite his wishes and dreams, you pulled away from the hug with a soft smile painted across your face.

“Bye, H.”

“Bye, shortcake.”

It was an easy departure, not filled with heavy weight on your chest or guilt. The complete opposite of your arrival last night.

You weren’t trying to avoid Harry when you said that it would need time, but you knew that some space would do good for both parties. Pondering and reflecting was a necessity, especially for Harry.

The yearning to hear Harry’s explanations remained nestled deep inside you. Your patience would undergo a practice with a small hint of knowing what was coming.

For once in your life, you didn’t jump to conclusions stemming from your anxiety. What you felt, heard, and saw was enough.

You didn’t want Harry to rush everything because you could feel how the sentence was on the tip of his tongue, along with quoting Mr.Darcy.

He had feelings for you, and it was mutual.

You allowed yourself to feel the giddiness and rush while simultaneously acknowledging past events.

What led you to write the letter, Harry’s coldness and ignorance but also his sudden moments of warmth and kindness.

Denial wasn’t an option for you. You felt attracted to him since day one, and rightfully so. As for his feelings, you’re yet to delve deep into that topic.

Time does not heal, but it’s more of a breather. Last night was emotionally charged, but it somehow changed your life upside down.

He didn’t specifically confess his feelings, and nor did you. But you kept going back to those moments of silence when your souls had a quiet chat against your knowledge. Perhaps they confessed then because you really know.

If you were to think deeply about it, Harry did the one thing he vowed to never do just because he thought that he lost you for good.

It pained you to even consider it, but that indicated how much you meant to him.

Drinking to punish himself, his poem, his apologetic sweet face, his urge to spit out every single excuse his heart held, and his body that held you as if he was shielding you from the world.

He was the man you read about in your books, with all of his good and bad traits. In fact, he was better than them because he was real with a beating heart that you listened to when you hugged him.

The past would not be forgotten, it would be vaguely memorized to learn from your mistakes as human beings who were designed and destined to commit mistakes.

The next best thing after sunshine, books, strawberries, bunnies, and poems was second chances and fresh beginnings.

Even with the knowledge that many mature conversations await you, there was something comforting about this morning that carried a whiff of warmth in the air.

Harry liked you, and you liked Harry.

Taglist: @matildasatellite @xxrosebunny @novasblogofstuff @gem1712 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @miasdelicatepov @jessitpwk @tiaamberxx @peacheskiwi @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tbsloneely @20031990s @prettythingsworld-blog @st-ev-ie @slut4marvelmenn @missmielyhoran @a-strange-familiar @wandas-lawyer @cherrycokeslay @blepskies @that-daydream-look @hslt-2809 @ivegotparticulartaste @epidxte @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @harryssideboob @malwtilda @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @epidxte @indierockgirrl @annesauriol @leenameh @scottisantman @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @nysworld @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @rueluvsharry @lomlhstyles @infinatetatie @igglepiggle22 @namelesssav

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just-jordie-things · 4 months

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california - nanami kento

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 10k warnings: swearing, jjkverse trauma summary: nanami kento left jujutsu society behind years ago. (y/n) spent that time moving on, thinking she'd never see him again. then she stumbles across a letter that suggests otherwise... more info: slowburn friends to seperation to lovers, reader is annoyingly angsty being seperated from nanami tbh but who wouldn't be ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i shouldn’t have done it but i read it in your letter // you said to a friend that you wished you were doing better // i wanted to reach out but i never said a thing ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her good days, (y/n) didn’t think about her time as a student at Jujutsu Tech. She was able to complete her assignments, help train a few of Gojo’s students, and complete her paperwork at a decent time, all before leaving for the day at a semi-decent time.

On her good nights she’d have a glass of wine after a simple dinner, take her time with her skincare routine before bed, and fall into a dreamless sleep, until her alarm inevitably woke her up to start it all over again.

A good day came once in a blue moon- and after a google search one night after a couple extra glasses of wine, she thinks a good day might rival the frequency of a blue moon.

Every task of every day seemed to go by in a hazy blur, and if you were to sit down and ask her how her day was, she’d struggle to answer the specifics of the question.

“Fine,” She shrugs back at Ieiri Shoko when she asks her one afternoon. “Yours?”

“You don’t look fine,” Shoko dodges the redirected question with her candid response. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages”

She’s not wrong, and (y/n) knows she doesn’t look great. Getting an average of four hours of sleep each night, on top of having a highly physically demanding job, the body could only handle so much. The bags under her eyes had bags, and since losing her only tube of chapstick, she hadn’t found the time to stop into the convenience store and pick up another one.

“That’s why you’re the doctor” (y/n) mumbled back.

She hadn’t sought out Shoko’s company, but she was the only one of her colleagues that she didn’t actively push away. Even if the smoke from her cigarette made her the tiniest nauseous after quitting the habit years ago. She was different from the others. Not overbearing, and never too chatty. If she was held at gunpoint and forced to answer, (y/n) would tell you that Shoko was the closest thing to a friend that she had.

Only at gunpoint, though.

“You ever thought about cashing in some vacation time?” Shoko muses.

She finally turns away from the burnt out sorcerer, leaning back against the outside wall of the infirmary and puffing on her cigarette. (y/n) had stepped out for some fresh air- which really meant a break from Gojo pestering her while she did her reports- and just so happened to run into the old… friend.

“Nowhere I want to go” She answered lamely. Shoko fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well some downtime would do you good. Like a staycation, you know?”

“Don’t think it’s in the cards, Sho,” (y/n) sighed, pushing off the wall and turning to head inside. “Besides. There’ll still be curses roaming around, won’t there?” She asks, glancing back at her, only to find the woman frowning.

One thing about Shoko? She didn’t express much. Since their school days, she’d mastered holding a neutral face, never quite letting anyone know what she was thinking. Maybe it was just the way she coped with everything.

“There’ll always be curses” Shoko replies before (y/n) could disappear back inside.

She catches her just as she’s stepping over the threshold, freezing up when she speaks because even with how badly she wants to be done with the conversation, she can’t bring herself to shut Shoko out. Not completely, anyways. And not literally.

So she sighs, and doesn’t glance back at her when she forces more words out from between her teeth.

“Then I guess I’ll always be busy”

Shoko doesn’t say anything else before the door’s sliding shut and (y/n’s) gone.

It was the longest conversation they’d had in months. If you could even call it a conversation.

They used to talk all the time, sneaking out to smoke or crashing in each other’s rooms with a stash of magazines and R-rated movies. They used to be actual friends. But that was a lifetime ago and as far as (y/n) was concerned, completely unattainable now.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can’t tonight, got big plans with Shoko,” (y/n) says, popping a piece of strawberry taffy in her mouth. She’d stolen it from Satoru’s stash just a few hours ago, keeping it safely hidden in her pocket until he was no longer around to catch her savoring it. “Yaga gave me an assignment first thing in the morning, but we could hang out after?”

Nanami Kento knows that the candy she was rolling over her tongue didn’t belong to her, and he knows he’ll probably have to lie to his obnoxious upperclassman once the idiot notices a piece has gone missing. He’s not above lying, but he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Especially to the face of the strongest sorcerer. But when (y/n) produces another parchment wrapped piece from her pocket and passes it off to him, he takes it for the price of that lie.

“Tomorrow works,” Nanami agrees softly, peeling away the wrapper of the green sweet. “We should probably study for the upcoming exam-”

“Sweet! Taffy!”

Another voice interrupts the conversation, and it’s no surprise to see Haibara Yu bounding up to the two of them. With stars in his eyes and a face splitting grin, neither (y/n) nor Nanami could be annoyed with him for butting in between them with an outstretched hand.

“Sorry, Yu,” (y/n) frowns, holding up the empty wrapper from her piece between her index and middle fingers. “Fresh out”

Just as Yu turns to his other friend, Nanami’s already popped the key lime flavored piece into his mouth. The bright grin on Yu’s face falls into a dramatic frown.

“It’s Gojo’s anyways, go ask him for a piece” Nanami says gruffly, raising his eyebrows in a pointed stare, silently telling his colleague to take the hint and leave them be.

Yu’s obvious in the way he opens his mouth and nods along. He thinks he’s being smooth when he stammers out an excuse about ‘having to be, uh, somewhere’ before scampering off and giggling into his hand.

“Great, he’s totally gonna tattle on me now” (y/n) groans, but something about the idea of a confrontation with Gojo Satoru himself makes her smirk with excitement.

Nanami recognizes the look and as stupid as it would be to go toe to toe with the Six Eyes user over a few pieces of taffy, his lips twitch in amusement seeing the mischievous look on her face.

“He won’t,” He assures her. “I’ll just pick some up for him next time I’m in town”

“No no,” (y/n) shakes her head, smiling softly at him for the gesture. “No need. I’ll just snatch more next time,”

Nanami knows he should be gently prompting her not to steal from their fellow classmates, but he knows that lecturing her will get him nowhere, and he’s not in the interest of making her lose whatever deluded interest in him she’d already taken up.

Deluded, indeed. Kento has no clue what it was about him that (y/n) had grown so attached to since his enrollment at Jujutsu Tech, but for some reason unknown to him, she sought out his companionship, time and time again. She often asked to be training partners, and then studying partners, and overtime it morphed into real friendship. Although he had a habit of suggesting boring activities when she offered him her free time- like right now.

“And we’re not studying. That’s not fun. I want to do something fun” (y/n) half-scolds him playfully for the ridiculous idea he always came up with. It was almost routine at this point.

After his terrible idea, she’d come up with a wildly outlandish one.

“Let’s sneak into a hotel and pretend we’re guests so we can use the pool!”

To which Kento promptly turned down with a bewildered look on his face.

“Absolutely not”

And then they could find a compromise between the two, which was always the normal, reasonable option.

“Hang out in the shopping district and not buy anything?”

It was like clockwork.

With the plan agreed upon, conversation would move on to something else as they’d slowly wander back to the dormitories. Nanami knew it wasn’t fair to stall when she had plans with Shoko for the night, but she wasn’t exactly rushing the two of them either. And maybe he was a little deluded himself, thinking maybe she wanted to talk to him for a while longer, just like he did.

By the time they reach the girls’ building, they’re stopped out front, and she’s still going on with a story about the last curse she exorcized and how ugly it was. It had him laughing, more so than that day Gojo got his ass handed to him by Yaga during training, and the deeply buried selfish part of him hoped she’d keep standing there and talking to him all night.

“So blue, hairless, sticky globs aren’t your type I take it?” He half jokes as she goes on dramatically about the nasty curse that was the cause of her new record for longest shower.

It’s only a joke, believe him, Kento didn’t know the first thing about flirting. As far as he was concerned, no one had ever flirted with him before, and he was pretty certain he’d also never partaken in the act. But there’s a look that flashes across (y/n’s) features that he’s never seen before, something between amusement and what he thinks could be calculation. Her head tilts at a small angle as a slow smile creeps over her face.

“No, no. I’m only into the gloomy, blonde, unattainable types,” She tells him boldly.

For a moment he thinks she’s joking back at him, but realization strikes him and all the blood drains out of his face, before rushing back up and heating up his entire neck and face. (y/n) must notice, because she giggles, and finally turns towards the dorms.

“Shoko’s gonna come snatch me any minute if I keep her waiting like this, so I better go,”

She’s talking again before he can think of anything to say- or come up with any thought at all, really. But if it makes things awkward, she doesn’t show it. In fact, the grin she’s wearing could rival Haibara’s.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And Kento could only manage a shaky nod of his head as he watched her go. He barely even waves back at her when she bids him a good night.

Once inside, (y/n) bolts to Shoko’s room with a bright red face and a girlish eagerness to tell her all about the little interaction.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her worst nights, she lays awake on top of her covers, staring at the same peculiar spot on her ceiling that she swears she’ll wipe off in the morning, and more often than not, it takes multiple hours before she falls asleep.

And the sleep is not relaxing. Her muscles remain tense, hands in fists and knees clutched tight to her chest. She’s lucky if it’s dreamless. Otherwise, she’s plagued with the memories of every mistake of her past. The worst of all of it, is the image of Haibara Yu’s lifeless body in the infirmary. He’s half covered by one of the shitty, stiff white sheets, and no matter how long she waits with bated breath, he never wakes up.

By the end of the nightmare, Yu’s always dead, and Kento always leaves.

It doesn’t matter if things play out differently than they had in the real memory. It doesn’t matter if she lets him walk away, or if she begs kicking and screaming for him to stay. The ending stays the same.

He leaves, and he never comes back.

Some nights he tells her that it’s her own fault, that she wasn’t there to change things. Some nights he doesn’t even say a word. (y/n) doesn’t know which is the lesser of two evils, because sometimes, just sometimes, it’s such a comfort to hear his voice again that she could forgive him for the nasty things the image of him would spit at her.

Even when she’d jolt awake with limbs that ache and tears staining her pillowcase, she almost wishes she could go back into the nightmare, just to see him again for a few minutes longer.

On the nights you can’t go back to sleep, she finds herself pulling up the contacts list in her phone and staring at his number. It might not even be his number anymore, he very well could have changed it in the last ten years. But it’s a phone number with his name attached nonetheless. She’s never called it, never texted it, even in her worst states, blackout drunk or breaking down on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, she’s never made the mistake of reaching out to him.

They had a silent agreement after all. To never reach out again. To completely remove themselves from each other’s lives. To become total strangers. At least, (y/n) was sure that was what happened between them. No other explanation ever presented itself, and again, it wasn’t like she could ask. Gojo liked to say people just drift apart, sometimes. She thinks he’s a liar, and maybe a bit of a coward, but she’s never said it to his face. Drifting apart happens over time, she thinks. Drifting apart feels natural, even if it hurts a little bit. Normal people drift apart after life gets in the way, with work, or maybe kids, or some other roadblock that comes about with life.

Sorcerers didn’t drift apart. Or maybe it was that they couldn’t drift apart. There would always be something that kept them tied together, even if running around somewhere far from one another, it was like they’d always be interconnected. The society of jujutsu sorcerers was so small, it should be impossible to drift apart.

There were only two ways to escape it.

The obvious and most frequent cause was death. It was hardly talked about, and perhaps there was a written code never to address the mortality rate of jujutsu sorcerers, but the numbers didn’t lie. This life was not for the weak, and certainly not for those who feared what was on the other side of life.

Haibara Yu fell victim to it before he got the chance to graduate, and she kept it to herself, but (y/n) believed his passing to be the beginning of the end. As much as she hated him for dying, she could forgive him for drifting apart, as Gojo coined it. She’d forgiven him a long time ago, while knelt over his grave with near-frostbitten hands pressed into the marble stone marking it. She’d forgiven him between choked out sobs, before pleading for his forgiveness in return.

Death was a sweet, cruel escape from the lives sorcerers lived. Sweet to those it claimed, releasing them from the horrors they faced in their everyday lives in the name of doing something for the greater good. Cruel to the people left behind to mourn them, counting down the days that pass until the same fate would claim them as well.

But perhaps (y/n) was a pessimist in her natural state, always finding the worst in every situation. She knew this about herself. The problem lied in the fact that pessimism was just too easy to explain away everything wrong with the world.

Because if everything wrong in the world had a larger, more complex reasoning than that of it’s simply bad because that’s the way the world works, then how could the work of any amount of people be enough to fix it?

Then there was the other cause for drifting apart. And perhaps this reason is why Gojo deflected with his choice of wording, because it was defecting. Which is what Geto Suguru did when he renounced jujutsu sorcerery, after slaughtering an entire village of people and then his parents.

If death was sparsely spoken of, defecting was taboo. The difference being no one wanted to speak of the treacherous act and those who committed it. Geto Suguru wasn’t the only one in the history of jujutsu to turn his back on sorcerers and become a Curse User, but he was certainly the most recent, and the acts he committed had been crueler than what was seen by those in the past.

So much so that when her mind drifted off to him, (y/n) found herself straightening up and finding any other topic for her brain to hyperfocus on. It felt wrong to even conjure up the image of his face in the privacy of her own mind. Sometimes the paranoia wrecked her so much she feared Gojo’s Six Eyes would catch her in the act of reminiscing on a past where everyone was still around, still happy, still alive. Now on the rare occasion she lets herself think of those times, there’s a black blur where Geto once was, leaving Gojo and his idiotic grin alone, even in the back of her mind.

Even right now, with her mind drifting off while Gojo had been speaking to her, her posture suddenly stiffens and she’s sitting straight up in her chair, tuning back into whatever he was rambling on about.

It wasn’t often she found herself in Gojo’s office, much less speaking with him, but he’d requested a one-on-one with her and even if she’d declined it, he would’ve tracked her down. Her actually showing up was a courtesy only to herself.

The surprise on Gojo’s half-covered face when she actually appeared at his door wasn’t hidden at all. In another life, she would’ve teased him for the way his jaw dropped open. In this life, she’d stood silently and motionlessly at his door, as if her stillness would’ve let her go undetected, even with his Six Eyes.

At first the meeting consisted of talk about a Special Grade curse popping up around Kyoto that the other school’s resources hadn’t been able to exorcize. It actually seemed like an important talk for a good fifteen minutes. But at some point Gojo had derailed and when she tuned herself back in, he was going on about a bakery in the shopping district.

Her brows furrow, giving herself away in that she hadn’t been listening for a good few minutes, but Gojo continues on with a story about bread.

“Sorry to interrupt,” She interrupts unapologetically, “But what does this have to do with the Special Grade?”

There’s a flicker of confusion on Gojo’s face, but then he grins and laughs too loud. He adjusts himself in his seat, which he’d been leaning across improperly but in a way that was just so him.

“My bad!” He says through his cackles, and next thing she knows, he’s rummaging through the doors of his desk- which looked like it cost more than her monthly rent. He’s muttering a string of disgruntled curses as he digs through a few drawers, pulling some papers out, only to drop them on the desktop and going back to his search.

(y/n) already knows that whatever he’s looking for, he won’t find in that desk. Her eyes wander the pile accumulating in front of him. From file folders to loose pieces of notebook paper to envelopes and what she thinks might be bills, there’s not a chance any of it is useful to their current conversation. Or perhaps useful at all, Gojo had always been notorious for doing his reports late- if at all- and she had a feeling everything in front of her now was just junk.

“Gojo?” She calls softly when he switches to the column of drawers on the other side of the desk, only to continue his messy search. He doesn’t respond, too lost in the disorganization of it all, so she calls his name again, a little more firmly this time.

He jolts upwards, staring at her with his undivided attention from behind the black fabric of his blindfold. (y/n) impatiently raises a brow at him. It takes a real effort to not start tapping her finger against the desk in a display of her growing irritation.

“What is it you’re looking for?” She shakes her head, wondering why she even has to ask.

“The reports from the Kyoto school!” He claims, “I could’ve sworn I put them back in here after I- aha!”

The sudden change in demeanor when he hollers and snaps his fingers makes her flinch, just a little bit, but enough for Gojo to mumble an apology as he rounds the desk. (y/n) stands, expecting to follow him out of the room, but he waves at her dismissively in order to keep her put.

“I left them in my classroom!” He shouts as he makes his way to the door.

(y/n’s) brows furrow, and her mouth drops open to scold him for keeping such documents in a public place, but before she could, he’s admitting something worse.

“I was showing my students earlier as an example piece!” He says it like he’s proud, but the way (y/n) looks at him, you’d think he just admitted to running over her cat. “Be right back!”

She lets out a huff when he’s finally gone, whether it's from deepening annoyance or relief to have a break, she’s not sure. But she turns back to the desk as she waits, only to be met with the mess he’d made.

With a glance to the clock on the wall, she realizes that in the thirty minutes of this meeting, only half of it was spent discussing a work-related matter. The other half was… well fifteen minutes of her life she just won’t get back, she supposed.

It might have been overstepping, but she figures organizing the piles left on Gojo’s desk was a better use of her time than the last few minutes had proven. So with another sigh she gets to sorting.

It’s a lot of piles she creates, but at least there’s a reason for the mess, and at least she stacks everything neatly. The tallest stack is the random pieces of notebook paper- some are grocery lists, some are doodles, and some are notes that actually seem important, like recollections from assignments that he’d need to add to his backed up reports. The other piles are separated into files of previous reports, assorted envelopes, and then a stack of miscellaneous pages she couldn’t make heads or tails of. Either way, Gojo would be obligated to feel some appreciation for her work here.

She works in silence and mindlessly, barely giving even the strangest of papers a second glance once she determines the proper placement for it. But then she comes across an envelope-enclosed letter.

It’s been opened, which isn’t the oddest thing about it. What makes it stand out is how neatly the flap was detached, not a single tear in the rest of the envelope. Unlike the other letters, which were tucked away in shredded envelopes. They’d likely been ripped open by impatient fingers. This one was in perfect condition.

Curiously, she flips it over in her hand, but the only thing written across the front of it is Gojo’s name, in neat, straight handwriting. There’s no addresses, and no stamp. This letter was hand delivered.

With a single glance to the open door of the office behind her to ensure that Gojo wasn’t returning at that very moment, she lets her curiosity get the better of her. She’s not sure who she assumes this letter is from, or what it’s contents are, but the mystery of it has her opening the flap and plucking out the folded paper inside.

Even the folds are neatly creased, folding up the single page into a rectangle that fits perfectly inside of the envelope. Whoever the letter was from clearly had an eye for the organized, unlike the recipient of said letter.

With great care she opens it up, holding the page between her fingers gently, afraid that a grip too tight could fold the page and soil it’s perfect condition.

Her eyes scan over the words quickly.

Gojo Satoru,

If you’re reading this, I suppose I mustered up the courage to actually deliver this to you. I’m sure that was no easy feat. I will try to keep this concise, as I’ve thought about writing this to you many, many times. Now that I’m actually doing it, I hope I can follow through.

(y/n) touches her fingers to lips as if to suppress the small gasp that escapes her. Could this have been from Geto Suguru? The thought makes a chill run down her spine, but against her better judgment, she keeps on reading.

Straight to the point. Life as a salary man is no better than life as a sorcerer may have proven to be. I’m making more money, I’m told I should feel joy in my successes, and I am successful, but there is no joy. I fear that without doing something for the good of the world, I won’t feel joy at all.

I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.

No, this couldn’t have been from Geto, right? With her deductions from the next few lines, (y/n) was growing confused at the point of view of the writer.

But who else was close enough to Gojo to write him a letter? Utahime? But it seemed as though the writer was a man. She chewed on her lip as she continued scanning over the words.

When I left Jujutsu Tech, I truly intended to never come back. I believed that in a world full of curses, and shit, that there was nothing anyone could do to make it a better place. For as long as sorcerers and non-sorcerers exist, their counterpart will always be curses. After Haibara, I believed my existence made no difference in jujutsu society, therefore leaving me no place in it.

I was wrong.

With wide eyes, the hand remaining on the page began to tremble, shaking the thin paper in the slightest and making it a bit more difficult to read. The gears began to fall into place, and (y/n) had a sneaking suspicion that this letter wasn’t from Geto Suguru at all.

More than that, I foolishly miss the things that once were. I miss feeling like I’m making a difference in the world, even if it’s minimal. I miss helping people. I even miss using my Cursed Technique.

And admittedly, I miss (y/n).

This time when she gasps, (y/n) presses her entire hand against her open mouth. It does little to stifle the noise.

I wish I could say that leaving was the right path for me, that I’m doing much better than I really am, but it would all be lies. I’m worse off than I’ve ever felt in my life. Turning my back on sorcery, and on (y/n), was a choice I’ll regret for the rest of my life.

The last time we spoke, you asked me to come back. You told me if I ever wanted to, that you’d make the arrangements. I’m sure you remember that I promptly told you to fuck off. I apologize. You were only trying to help, and for once, you were right.

I suppose this is me saying that I want to return.

Whatever means necessary, if I have to relocate to Kyoto, or start the process completely over, I’ll understand. I only ask two things. One, is for you to pull whatever strings you have in order to make it happen. I owe it to myself, to jujutsu society, and I owe it to (y/n).

The second ask is for you not to mention this to her until the decision is final. If I’m unable to return, no matter the reason, I don’t want her to know of the arrangement. I simply can’t have her thinking I’ve abandoned her a second time. I would rather she remember me as a deserter than a coward, as dreadful as that is.

I’d appreciate your discretion, and your aid. You have my number if you have any questions.

Finally, and slowest of all, her eyes drift to the signature neatly slanted at the bottom of the page. Her heart had previously been racing in her chest as she read the entire page in record time, but it suddenly plummets deep into her gut as her suspicions are confirmed.

Nanami Kento.

Her thoughts are so jumbled that all she can do is glance across the letter as if she would catch something new, as if she hadn’t already taken it all in, in it’s entirety, likely committing most of it to memory on her first read.

After Haibara…

… I was wrong…

… I miss (y/n)...

… lies… worse off… regret…

I appreciate your discretion…

“Ah, you found that, huh?”

When she turns to Gojo Satoru, who was standing in the doorway with a folder in his hands for an unknown amount of time, (y/n) doesn’t feel any shame in going through his things and reading a private letter that was very clearly not meant for her eyes. All she can do is stare at him, the evidence of her crime still in her hand.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t move. Her hard gaze sets on him and it’s enough for him to know she’s demanding an explanation.

“He really didn’t want you reading that, y’know,” Gojo closes the door behind him this time, crossing the room and tossing the found folder on top of the freshly organized stacks of paper on his desk.

Emotions bubble up inside of her that she can barely get straight. She thinks she catches the tail end of desperation, which quickly morphs into rage, and then it burns into something completely unrecognizable.

“Too late now, though, huh?”

He has the nerve to grin, like he was amused by the entire thing. If her entire body wasn’t frozen stiff, she might’ve grabbed him by the collar and demanded a proper explanation from him. She might’ve threatened him if she had to.

Instead, all that comes out is,

“How long did you keep this from me?”

His smile falters, but he doesn’t quite frown. Just regards her with a neutral expression as he keeps calm. She hates that he had to be put through something so traumatic that he was forced to learn to keep his cool. In another life, she would’ve gotten all the information out of him that she’d need just from his initial reaction. Now, she has to dig and prod at him until he unwraps every layer and tears down every wall he’s created to protect himself.

What she doesn’t know, is the most twisted part is he’s thinking the same thing about her.

“Couple weeks”

“Weeks!?” She doesn’t mean to yell, her voice raises against her will, but she doesn’t apologize for the lack of professionalism.

“If you recall, you weren’t exactly supposed to be in the loop-”

“That’s bullshit, Satoru!” This time, she has every intent to yell, before she slams the page down on the desk with enough force to have a small breeze ruining the stacks of pages.

Neither one of them comment on it, but the way Gojo’s eyes slide slowly from the new mess she created before going back to her, speaks volumes. She ignores it.

“How could you keep this from me?”

“(y/n)-” Gojo barely has the time to let out a sigh before she’s shouting at him again.

“I deserved to know about this!” She’s jamming her finger into the letter hard enough that it hurts when she hits the oak desk underneath but she pays the throbbing no mind. “When did this happen? When is he coming back?”

“It’s… it’s still sort of up in the air,” He says quickly, as if he were unable to keep himself from indulging her in some of the details. “But it’s not solid yet, and you never heard a thing-!”

“Satoru,” (y/n) touches her fingers to her forehead as she sighs. “He’s clearly not doing well, what’s going on? How long have you been talking with him?”

He’s told her too much already, and he knows that if Nanami were to find out that (y/n) got her hands on this letter, he’d probably be throttled. If (y/n) didn’t beat him to it, that is.

“We’ve been talking for a while…” Gojo sighs, dropping himself into his chair and doing his best to avoid the bewildered and hurt expression that she’s currently wearing as she glares at him. “Look (y/n) it’s not like I was hiding this to upset you, alright? Nothing was set in stone and if it didn’t work out I didn’t… I just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt”

She scoffs, her head shaking at him in disbelief. Gojo frowns.

“You should take some time to sit with this,” He suggests, before reaching across the desk to push the letter towards her again. “You can take it, if you want”

Scoffing again, she snatches up the page. Her brows furrow as she tries to make him aware of just how disgusted she is by this entire ordeal, but the way her lips wobble and her eyes begin to fill with tears gives her away.

However she’d never break in front of Gojo Satoru, so without a word she turns her heel and storms out of the office, making sure to slam the door shut behind her.

Her hands tremble so much that the page quivers in her hold, creating the only sound in the barren corridor. Her movements halt when she realizes she’s alone in this space, and finally, a small broken gasp escapes her throat.

Willing herself not to cry, she tilts her head back and squeezes her eyes shut tight. It seemed that the emotions she’d suppressed and buried all those years ago were finally bursting at the seams to be let out. All of the anger, the loss, the disappointment- it clawed its way out of the hole in her chest and made it’s way up her throat.

With only a hard swallow and the strong will to keep herself from breaking down right here, she pushed it all back down.

She’s not sure what compelled her to pull her phone out of her pocket and hurriedly tap until she’s scrolling through her contacts list. But it’s as if her hands are working on muscle memory alone as she stops her scrolling under N and is clicking on Nanami Kento’s name as if it were normal to reach out to him.

Once his contact information sits before her, however, she freezes on the spot, thumb hovering over the screen. All that’s there is a phone number and an old school email she’d never removed from the page. He doesn’t even have a photo, as she’d added his number to her contacts before smartphones gave you the option to add a contact picture.

What, was she supposed to call him now? After all this time? Her thoughts grew bitter as she stared at the screen. He never reached out to her, not once, not after promising he would.

And yet, Gojo Satoru had kept in contact with him?

Her phone is locked and back in her pocket in two seconds before she’s marching herself out of the building and heading towards anywhere that she’d consider far enough away from the Special Grade Sorcerer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day Nanami returns is hectic. His arrival isn’t the only thing to blame, in fact, (y/n) could have almost forgotten about it completely. Almost.

She’d been sent off on back to back assignments, nasty curses popping up one after another and with the shortage of Jujutsu Sorcerers, she couldn’t exactly turn it down.

Even once they’d been exorcized- which wasn’t an easy feat- she’d returned to campus only to find Gojo had unsurprisingly abandoned his students for long enough that she’d stepped in and helped guide their training exercises. They were good students, and for the most part were able to take care of themselves, but every once in a while Panda would goof off a bit too much and once he and Inumaki were distracted, Maki was bound to get looped in as well. Other than that, she had no complaints about subbing in for their teacher.

And once it was all said and done and she could finally go home and start her unofficial routine, she was reminded of the reason she’d been so on edge today to begin with.

Nanami Kento stood at the grand main entrance of Jujutsu Tech. Alongside Gojo Satoru and Principal Yaga, but their presence registered a few seconds later.

Tunnel vision took over against her will, blurring away the other bodies, and then the entire surrounding area, until there was only Nanami Kento in her sights. If it weren’t for him, and knowing that it was simply the effect he had, she might’ve thought that the long day was getting on top of her and she was passing out.

He looked so different and yet exactly the same.

He’d clearly grown into himself. His hair was styled differently, no longer hanging over his forehead in that gloomy teenager way. He seemed a bit taller, a bit broader, and simultaneously just as handsome as she remembered, and even more so.

It was hard to tell how long she’d been standing there, frozen in place, but when she’s finally caught, it feels like it’s been hours.

It’s Nanami who sees her first- although she’s convinced deep down that Gojo knew she’d been there all along- and the look on her face makes her stomach twist with an unpleasant emotion.

He doesn’t react right away, as if he doesn’t recognize her, but just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, his expression morphs. His eyes widen, and his jaw opens, but he doesn’t call out to her. Instead they both stand in place, a good ten feet apart, staring at each other as if for the first time.

More hours pass. It isn’t until Gojo turns towards her with the widest shit eating grin she’s ever seen that she’s broken from her daze. He waves her over, and she thinks he said something, but her feet are carrying her towards the group before she could actually listen to what he was saying.

Her eyes don’t leave Kento for even a second. Not a single stray to acknowledge her colleague or principal, there was nothing that could pull her attention away.

It takes a deep breath before she could actually find her voice.

“Welcome back, Nanami”

It comes out quieter than she intended, soft enough her voice almost fails her completely.

There’s the smallest of smiles on her face, genuine, but the confusion is still there in the way the corner of her lips twitch with discomfort.

It’s painfully silent between the group of four, she wishes someone would just say something, because she still can’t tear her eyes away from Nanami and the longer they stand there like that the more she worries she’ll combust.

Nanami doesn’t appear to have the same level of discomfort as her. He seems completely unphased as he stands among them. With his hands tucked casually into his pockets, and his expression unwavering in it’s neutral position.

As (y/n) begins to take notice of just how unmoved he is by standing here now- after everything, after he fucking left her here, after the letter- her discomfort grows into utter displeasure. With the silence that had settled between them since her approach, it was terribly obvious. Her nose twitched, her hands curled into stiff-knuckled fists at her sides, and her posture was so pin-straight it must’ve hurt, seeing as she didn’t usually stand so square.

“Just in time (y/n), we were just discussing Nanamin’s little welcome back party,” Gojo speaks up and finally (y/n) tears her fiery gaze away from the man that could hardly stand to avoid it. “You should come by. Tomorrow night after work,”

The look on her face doesn’t change even once she’s turned her attention towards Gojo, and he winces a bit the longer her eyes bore into him, but he continues on anyway.

“Everyone will be there, Shoko, Ijichi, even Utahime’s coming by,”

He makes it hard to find an excuse to say no, but (y/n) chalks that up to his personality. Since she’d found that letter a couple of weeks ago, he’d taken it upon himself to pester her and over-involve himself in her day-to-day. This wasn’t unlike him, she just hadn’t seen the behavior in quite some time.

“I’ll send you the address and you can come by, hm?” He’s nodding at her in confirmation before she can come up with a decent reason why she can’t go. Her teeth are sinking into her cheek as she gives him a small nod of her head.

“Yeah. Sure” Her words are as sharp and strained as she appears while speaking them. She gives a tight lipped smile to the three of them, and is walking away before she could get herself roped into anything else.

Her fists curl and uncurl at her sides as she briskly makes her way off the campus. It takes an effort not to break into a sprint.

Which is odd, because with the way her heart is reacting, she wanted nothing more than to turn back around and run towards him. Instead, with ragged breathing and misty eyes, she couldn’t get herself away fast enough.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feeling yourself shut down was an odd sensation. She always thought that if something traumatic happened to her, she’d leave her body for an unknown amount of time while her mind works to process the heavy emotions.

Instead, it was like a weight was being set on her shoulders. Slowly pushing- and she knew it would crush her, she knew that soon this weight would be too much to carry, and she feared what would happen when it finally crushed her.

It feels as if there’s a giant pair of invisible hands holding her in place, keeping her frozen in the morgue. Another fear settled in the pit of her stomach- that those hands would hold her here forever.

Her eyes feel dry, despite all of the tears today. She forces herself to blink a few times every time they start to feel dry again. The long periods of staring without blinking was starting to go from irritating to painful.

“(y/n),”

Kento’s voice is a shock to her system, making her tense up before relaxing as she glances back at him, where he’s sat against the furthest edge of the room. She’d almost forgotten he’d been there too. Her heart breaks for the thousandth time that day seeing him press his face into a damp cloth.

“I can’t take this anymore”

She completely turns around then, although it hurts to turn her back on Haibara, she couldn’t bear to let Kento feel like he was alone in this moment.

The dryness in her eyes starts to go away as her tear ducts begin to swell.

“Kento…?”

Her voice cracks, and her throat tightens up on her so fast that the rest of her question dies on her tongue. She’s left standing there with nothing to say, nothing to offer. That is, besides her presence and this trauma they shared.

He drops the rag, revealing sunken eyes paired with dark semicircles, frown lines already prominent at the corners of his mouth. He looks how she feels- utterly wrecked.

When he looks at her, the numbness in her limbs is replaced with an icy chill. The invisible claws on her body tighten and lock in place. Even if she knew the right thing to do, the right way to comfort him, she can’t move a muscle.

It feels like ages before he sighs, and finally explains himself.

“I’m leaving,”

For his voice barely rising above a whisper, the simple words are loud and clear. And even though the numbness settles over her rigid body again, (y/n) assumes her face must have betrayed her as she stares back at him, because he suddenly looks startled as he watches her react to the news. Kento pauses, and clears his throat before he speaks up again.

“I… I have to,” He breathes out, an admission he’d not yet shared. All the higher ups needed to know was that he was dropping out and would be joining the workforce. They didn’t exactly care about the details. “I… I can’t take this anymore. I’m not��”

The words die before he ever really considers admitting the full truth to her. (y/n) was a strong and endlessly talented sorcerer. How could he admit to her that he just didn’t have what it took to be as strong as her? This past week had felt like test after test of his will, and at the end of it, Nanami decided to quit while he was down for the count. He couldn’t bear another loss- after Haibara, after Geto- it seemed it was only a matter of time before he witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever cared about.

He doesn’t voice any of this. Instead, he just shakes his head at her before he stands.

“I’ve already packed my things, and let the higher ups know”

(y/n’s) mouth opens and closes a few times, small gasps of disbelief coming in between her bouts of silence, but it takes a few tries before any words could come out.

“L-leaving?” For as quickly as her mind is running with this news, her words struggle to catch up. Her brows furrow as she struggles to find the right thing to say amongst the mess of thoughts in her head.

“I have a few interviews lined up,” His hand rubs the back of his neck and he has to turn himself away from her as he continues. It’s cowardly, and he knows that, but he wanted this all to come from him. Only him. “I’m not cut out to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Not… not like this”

She wants to tell him that’s not true, that he’s a fantastic sorcerer. Even if it means screaming at him in order for him to truly understand just how firmly she believed he belonged here.

Maybe the state of shock she was in was too great to properly articulate her thoughts. Or maybe she didn’t want to put more pressure on his choice by fighting for him to stay.

Either way, she doesn’t say a word.

Her mouth shuts and the tears in her eyes cling to her lashes with every blink. All she does is stare at him, and hope he’ll say something that will give her a sense of comfort with his bad news. A silver lining, a bright side.

Instead, Nanami Kento makes her a promise.

“It’s not like I’m just… disappearing,”

He glances back at her with great uncertainty. He’s never seen her cry before today, and he thinks it would break him completely if he was the cause of more tears.

“You know?”

His voice is a mumble, but he knows she hears him. He knows because her lips wobble as she tries to keep them from frowning, and eventually she presses them into a tight line.

“Anytime you want…”

He trails off, because he’s never done this before, and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to say to convince her that if she ever needed anything he was a phone call away. Ironically, these are words he’s been trying to tell her since the day they met, but even now his throat gets that tight and scratchy feeling, and he chokes on them for the umpteenth time. His fingers flex outward, straining and trembling as he tenses the muscles in his hand to it’s fullest extent before he shoves it into his pocket and bites down on his cheek.

“I promise, alright?”

(y/n) swallows the lump in her throat, seeming to understand what the parts he’d failed to say. She was always better at reading between the lines than he was, but today especially, Kento feels like he’s failing her.

The feeling is so disgusting in his gut- hot, and churning in his insides- that he has to close his eyes to keep himself from looking at her again.

“Okay,” Is all (y/n) can manage to say at first. It’s quiet, her voice strained and raw and harsh to his ears despite her whisper. “You too, Ken” She adds after a few beats pass.

He hopes she knows she means it, that she promises it too.

If he does, he doesn’t indicate so.

That’s the last time she sees him before he leaves Jujutsu Tech, and it’s the last time they’ve spoken.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Social events weren’t (y/n’s) comfort zone. Maybe once, when she was younger, she would have been eager for such a party. All of her friends, the people who she loved most in this world, her makeshift family, in one place seemed so enticing at one time.

Now, it feels like a karmic punishment.

The way her stomach twists into knots despite only nursing her second drink, the way her skin pricks with anxious goosebumps anytime someone wanders too close to her and appears as though they wanted to catch up, it all starts to feel too much. It makes her sweat, and before she knows it she’s checking the time on her phone every five minutes. Then soon, every two.

Don’t get her wrong- she tried. She really did try. She hung around while Gojo and Utahime were fighting over a game of darts, and even though she didn’t partake she was there when the new kid, Takuma, ordered a round of shots for the group, she even sat and listened to as Nanami talked about his time as a salaryman. She wanted to appear as present as possible, even though she was far from her own mind.

It was just too hard, wasn’t it? To sit there and pretend like there was something to celebrate, that his return was the greatest news of the year. All it did was resurface ugly, buried feelings, and that mixed with just a couple of drinks created a pit in her stomach that only grew as the night went on.

Like an emotional black hole that would suck her up from the inside out.

Nanami had spoken about how the workforce wasn’t right for him, that it was full of selfish assholes who lacked basic human compassion, that it took and took and took and never provided a sense of fulfillment. The longer he spoke about the toxic environment, the more (y/n) felt the weight of it all on her shoulders.

Nothing had changed.

With a lame excuse mumbled to Shoko beside her, she swallowed down the last of her drink and left the table. Shoko wasn’t even given the chance to say anything- or ask her to repeat whatever she’d just missed- before (y/n) was walking right out of the bar.

Tokyo was cold this time of year, the light breeze enough to nip at any exposed skin, instantly making her nose and cheeks red.

It’s not pleasant, but it’s welcomed. Even with her arms wrapped around herself to preserve her fading body heat, the cool air felt good sucked in between her teeth as she began a breathing exercise that she hadn’t done since she was young and afraid of the career path she was on.

Not as afraid as she would be taking up a normal job in the city, working amongst vultures and hyenas and vile men that made high grade curses look a little more innocent, but, still.

She’s too lost in her focus to hear the pub door opening and shutting behind her, so when someone speaks, she looks surprised as she turns towards them.

“Hey,”

It’s quiet, but enough to draw her back to the chilly reality. Nanami Kento stands there with one hand in the pocket of his coat, the other extended towards her. He’d brought her coat out to her.

“You left that inside. Too cold to walk home without it, yeah?”

He’d spoken quite a bit tonight- or at least, a lot for him- and yet this was the most he’d actually spoken to her. It makes her stomach twist in that way that was once pleasant, but tonight? She thinks it might make her sick.

“I wasn’t going home”

She takes the coat, shrugging her arms into the sleeves and wrapping the front around herself as snug as she can get it. It’s not as much of a relief from the cold as she’d hoped.

“Looked like it”

His words aren’t sharp, they’re not accusatory, they don’t hold a hint of malice. But she almost wishes they had, because the defeated way he says it feels worse.

Her eyes shoot towards his, and for a split second, he thinks this is the moment she snaps. This is the part where she calls him out, for all the terrible things he’d done to her. He braces himself, flinching just a bit as he holds his breath and waits for what he deserved to be handed to him.

(y/n) sighs. Her shoulders slump downwards and a frown takes over her lips shortly after. The disappointment in her gaze is more brutal than anything she could have screamed at him. He wishes she would just scream at him.

“You should go back. Gojo will freak if you ditch your own party, you know”

She turns away from him again because she has to. She’s not brave enough to hold his persistent stare.

“I don’t want to”

“Well I don’t want you to-” She stops herself before those emotions could force themselves out. With a sharp inhale, she clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head, waits for the heat in her throat to be bearable enough to talk through. “Just… just go back inside, Nanami” She sighs out the non-threatening demand, hoping he’d turn around without another word and disappear.

Hearing her call him by his surname felt like a knife to the back. Not that it wasn’t what he deserved, he understood why she called him that, and he didn’t exactly expect to hear her call him Kento, or Ken in that sweet voice she used to- always delighted to see him, always smiling when his name would fall from her lips before her entire face would light up. Hearing Nanami followed by her eyes darting to look at anything but his was like a punishment.

“I don’t want to do that” He repeats himself, and she wants to be upset with him for how calmly he speaks, because he makes it seem so easy, while she’s standing there like a ticking bomb trying desperately to slow down time.

“It’s freezing” She tries to argue.

“I don’t mind the cold”

“I’m not great company right now”

“I’ve never thought that”

With the mental timer still ticking, she spins on her heel, her brows furrowed as she regards him with a pitiful sort of glare. All of the sadness she’d been trying to shield with anger was on full display.

“You left me,”

It finally comes out in the heat of the moment, and as soon as the words are spoken she wishes she could take them back- she’d do anything to pack them back up in the box of ugly emotions and bury it somewhere new where no one could ever find it- but it’s too late now. They hang in the air between them like a taunt over her head.

“You promised that you weren’t disappearing,” Her voice cracks and the strain of her voice gives away the tears in her eyes but even in her humiliation she can’t stop herself. For a moment, she’s completely out of her body, looking down at herself as she shoves a finger into his chest and begins to properly cry. “And then you did”

The words are barely audible, spoken through such a shaky whimper that any other person in the world wouldn’t have been able to understand her. But Nanami Kento knew exactly what she was saying. He’d heard her say this all before, almost every night during the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

“(y/n)-”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything, because her dam had already been broken, and there was nothing she could do to stop the rush of all the pent up emotions now. All the energy they’d drained out of her all these years came flooding out, and it was bound to take him out with her.

“And then you wrote ‘toru that fucking letter,”

She doesn’t have the ability to yell anymore, but even the whispered confession is enough to shut him up. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens but he has nothing to say. If she read that letter, then there was nothing for him to say. She already knew everything he’d been hoping to keep from her.

Which, thinking about it now, it was foolish of him to believe keeping her in the dark so they could start fresh would ever be the outcome of all of this. He should’ve known Gojo would dangle that letter in front of her like an enticing piece of gossip rather than the deep felt note it really was. He winced and stared down at his feet for a moment as he recalled everything he’d said with the confidence of privacy.

“What was I supposed to make of that?” (y/n) whispers, and it doesn’t sound rhetorical, with the way she stares at him with those wide, teary eyes, but she’s speaking again before he can even come up with a response. “I know you didn’t want me to see it and- and honestly a part of me wishes I hadn’t, maybe this would b-be easier, but…” She sniffles as she begins to stammer, her head shaking again in the hopes it would make her words more clear and concise. “But I did see it and it’s not easy it’s- it’s really hard”

He’s not sure what compels him to be so bold, but when she uncrosses her arms to aggressively rub the tears off of her cheeks, Kento reaches out and takes her wrist before she could defensively cross her arms again. Her eyes go wide from the surprisingly gentle action, but she doesn’t try to pull away.

“It is hard. It’s my fault that it’s hard,” He tells her softly.

Seeing the tears still swelling in her pretty eyes makes his throat start to close up, and he can’t help but be reminded of the last day he’d seen her. He’d been the cause of her tears then, too.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… I was young, and what I thought was right was so foolish-”

“A complete idiot” She mumbles weakly. He nods back at her in agreement.

“I know,” He murmurs, and the warmth that the softness of his voice ignites in her chest is bound to spread through her and weaken her knees soon enough. “I meant it all, though. What I wrote. I missed purpose. I missed… you,”

I missed you too sits on her tongue like lead.

“I should’ve written to you directly, I know that now, and if I could take it back I would but… when I wrote that letter, I still wasn’t sure if I’d…” He trails off, his eyes glancing around as he tries to find the right thing to say, which might have been useless, seeing as he’d been saying all the wrong things for most of his life. “I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to come back. Strong enough for you. I… (y/n), I left because I wasn’t strong enough to stay. I didn’t… I couldn’t put you through that again”

It’s messy, and it takes a moment for her to process it all, but slowly, it all clicks into place and she finally starts to understand what his motivations were in all of this.

“Kento…” She sighs, and it’s not quite like old times, but it does ignite an old spark in him that makes the corner of his mouth quirk upwards for just a brief moment. “I didn’t need you to be any stronger than you already were,”

Her fingers tremble as she slides her arm out of his hold, only to ghost the pads of her fingers over his palm. Even after the years spent away from jujutsu sorcery, the palms of his hands still bore the rough calluses of a man wielding a weapon. Her eyes darted towards his hand as she made contact with it, eyeing the way he offered his open palm to her, but made no move to take her hand. He waited.

“I didn’t need you to be anything,” She murmured, glancing up at him then. Her hand hovered over his still, but the pounding of her heart still caused it to shake. “I just wanted you safe. If that meant leaving then- then fine, but not knowing how you were, if you were okay, if you were happy, I… I hated that”

She had her other hand wrapped around his heartstrings, he was sure, because the tugging on them was relentless and painful. Kento had to clear his throat before a choked gasp could come out of it.

The urge to apologize over and over, until I’m sorry are the only words he knows how to say, until his throat is bloody and raw, strikes him so hard he almost actually does.

“(y/n),”

Her name is murmured so softly his lips barely moved, breathed out so gently it was stolen and silenced by a sharp gust of wind that cuts between them. Finally, her hand falls into his, as if the weight was too much for her to hold anymore. Her fingers clasp around his palm as if muscle memory took over as soon as they touched, as if seven years apart meant nothing at all when it came to them.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” His eyes flicker in between hers, and he can’t stop his free hand from reaching out, hesitating only a moment before the cool pads of his fingers brush away the tears still stuck to her cheek. “But… I don’t want to lose you again. I left because I couldn’t stand to lose you and I… I did anyway, didn’t I?”

It’s like the final thread keeping her heart afloat is snapped, and it shatters as it crashes in her stomach. Something escapes her upon that impact, something between a gasp and a sob, and it has Kento pressing his entire hand against her face, cupping her cheek and hoping he could provide even an ounce of the comfort she deserved. This was all because of him, after all. A knot forms between his brows and she frowns deeply as he takes in all of the hurt she’s feeling, taking responsibility for every second of it.

“No,” She breathes out, her head barely shaking with the protest. “I loved you, Ken,” She confesses, and she’s not sure if it relieves a weight on her chest or makes it worse, but she runs with it.

There was nothing left to lose, they’d made enough mistakes already, one more couldn’t hurt, right?

“I- I still love you, I’ll always love you,” She starts to stammer but there’s not a single pause in her voice. “Whether you stay or leave, that doesn’t just go away”

The pad of his thumb presses a little harder into her cheekbone, and he moves in closer, staring at her intently as he takes in everything she said, basking in it, in all of it’s melancholy and sweetness, in the relief of after all these years, finally knowing how she feels. Finally knowing that he’d never imagined things, that his feelings were reciprocated.

“I loved you, too,” He murmurs, and with the hand that’s still holding hers, he squeezes, maybe tighter than he should have, but he needed to make sure this wasn’t another cruel nightmare that he’d wake up from any second now. He lets a beat pass just to be sure. “I still love you, too” He repeats.

She sniffles, gasps quietly, and then the smallest of smiles begins to stretch across her lips.

When she leans forward, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head before he presses his forehead into hers. His eyes fall shut and he keeps his hold on her secure. It was still freezing out, the cold had settled in all of his limbs by now, but he needed to be with her here just a little bit longer.

“You don’t know how much I missed you, Ken” She mumbles, the tip of her cold nose brushing into his as she pressed a little bit closer.

He chuckles, and it’s not a humored laugh, more bittersweet and regretful, but it warms her heart just to hear it anyways. When he whispers back to her it’s so sweet that she melts away completely. Her shattered heart is welded back together solely through the power of Nanami Kento’s gentle presence and even gentler words.

“I think I have a pretty good idea, sweetheart”

[ cause this is crazy love // i’ll catch you on the flip side ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami imgaine #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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mysadcorner · 10 months

Note

I will contribute my bit, please Dick Grayson injured having to rest and just want to spend time with reader.

Injured!Dick Grayson x Reader Headcanons

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- Credit to the images owners - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

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• When Dick first gets hurt he really doesn’t want to worry you, so despite being in pain he wouldn’t tell you the extent as to how much at first. He’d keep up his flirty antics while pushing through in an attempt not to make you potentially upset about it, but he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long.

• Even if you dod notice his injuries, he would downplay how bad it was until he was able to get some medical attention, especially after he’s seen so many get hurt himself. He knows what it’s like to see the people close to him get injured on a regular basis and doesn’t want you to worry about him the next time he goes out to do his job. Plus, he’s used to most injuries, so if it isn’t too bad by his own standard then he’ll be able to cope with the injury for a little while.

• Once you do figure the extent of his injuries he’d ho straight to reassuring you about them, letting you know that no matter how hurt he gets he’ll be fine in the end. Plus, he’d be more than happy to let you help him if he was having issues moving around once he realises he can’t go out for a little while, but your worrying is something he’ll constantly remind you about to calm down as he doesn’t like to seem incapable regardless of his injuries.

• If you’re going to be looking after him, or at least spending more time with him due to mobility issues, then you’ll have to get used to him teasing and flirting with you quite a bit during this time. He can’t help it when he’s around someone for too long and his naturally flirty personality comes out even more as a way to make any pain he may potentially be in, as well as any pain medication causing him to be less uptight about the things he might say.

• Being made to rest would agitate Dick a lot, but he is aware that he’s in some desperate need of some downtime after being busy for so long. He didn’t realise how much his body needed to catch up on some rest, so when you’re helping him in this way he won’t complain too much - although, you might need to tell him off for getting up when he’s not supposed to because he doesn’t like to be trapped in the same position or space for hours on end.

• He appreciates the time you’re spending with him, despite his injuries, and will try to make the most of it by interacting with you. He likes company, so if you’re the one looking after him then he’s going to make the most of it. Especially when he’s usually too busy to schedule some real quality time with you most of the time.

• He wouldn’t want to admit it, but he seriously misses you whenever you’ve left for a little while and he wasn’t able to after you because of his injury, even if it’s just something as small as having to go out for medical supplies or food. Dick would seek your attention a lot more once you got back and would even complain about how long you took, which shows deep down how much he truly hates to be away from you.

• Once you’ve helped him recover, he’s going to be spending a lot more time with you whenever he can, or coming to you for help again if he sustains another injury. He’s realised how much he appreciates your time and how you deserve to be put first by him, so he’ll go out of his way to pay you back for how you helped him and enjoy your company when the two of you are free and as often as possible.

#dc x reader #dc #dc x you #dc comics headcanons #dc comics #dick grayson #dick grayson headcanons #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing #dc nightwing #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x reader #nightwing headcanons

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

Note

For Vil: H, I, J, please! I’m very interested in the Housewarden’s mindset as a yandere

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, manipulation, imprisonment, murder, poison, unhealthy relationship

H, I, J

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being put on a way too high pedestal

It’s not like Vil would do this on purpose

It’s actually the oppesite

He praises you constantly, telling you how perfect you are

It’s nice and all when your partner tells you that they love every single part about you but nothing comes close to the extent Vil does

For a normal person like you it is absolutely impossible to be what he envisions that you are

And when you tell him that this is too much he is going on and on how humble you are

Safe to say you will never be able to climb this mountian

Vils fans

Many of them understand that Vil is also just another human being who wants some love in his life

And then there are also like “DON’T TOUCH MY VI-VI!”

To be fair, Vil also dislikes those fans a lot but there isn’t much he can do

So he does try to keep your relationship private but there is only so much someone like him can do

If you didn’t have the same experience as the NRC cast (aka meeting your vessel Yuu, getting to know you through Yuu) it can be a bit hard to figure out at first glance that you are the Overseer

So even that isn’t necessary some sort of protection for you

Just avoid crowds and learn how to make yourself look like someone else entirely with make-up

Vils fretting over you

“OH MY GOODNESS IS THAT A PAPERCUT??!”-Vil Schoenheit, model with 5 million followers

To say that he is always worried would be an understatement

He just wants to make sure you are always taken care of, ok?

Well guess who isn’t so thrilled about that? Ding ding ding! Ten points for the right answer! You

I’m not talking about a few minutes of attentio. I’m talking about him coming back to Pomefiore and then it starts for the entire rest of the day

And it’s not like you can tell him that it’s too much

That would be just rude and we also don’t want to know what happen if you ever were to take that “privilege” away from him

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A “normal” relationship

You know, getting registered on the paper, being able to go out with you, yada yada

Sadly he is not able to enjoy this at the moment since he has to shield you from the more problematic part of his following

Why the “ “?

Well because in that vision you are not really having any contact to anyone besides him

Unconscious manipulation is also a normal thing, the world is evil you know? Only he is on your side

Maybe if you ask nicely he will get you a goldfish or somethign like that. You know, to talk to

One where he isn’t interrupted

At the moment the young model still has to study and also take care of his more or less dormant career

So “sadly” to your joy he can’t be there all the time

If worst would come to worst he would step down from his job

He has so much money he could probably pay easily for everything Ruggies family needs for fifty years

Man just wants to spend every minute of his life with you

Whether you want it or not does not matter

One in which you love him enough for him to stop feeding you secretly potions

Have you ever wondered why you are still here with him even though he is so overbearing?

Well congrats! You just broke through the effects of one of Vils potions

He hates it, ok? He hates it to always tiptoe around you so he can put it in your drinks

Vil thinks he has no chance with you, perfection itself, so he sees no other way but to cheat a bit

So the next time you see him with a heartbroken look on his face you know what he just did

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Easily jealous

I would like to remind you that he has a background as an actor

This means you won’t even know that he is jealous… until it’s too late

The sight of others being around you, looking at you, being close to you, potentially taking his spot besides you

It makes his blood boil

If he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would have fed all of them apples a long time ago, and those do not keep doctors away

If you look really close and are Rook you might see his muscles being a little more tense than usual so… Nah, no way you can spot this sign early enough

Bettering himself

Vils jealousy stems from a place of fear

What if you were to find someone better than him?

So he takes it out on himself… and a teeny tiny bit on you

He wakes up earlier, runs longer in the morning, sees something ugly in something totally normal

You know, the unhealthy stuff

With him raising his standards for himself he also raises his for you

Suddenly that papercut isn’t just a papercut (to which he already reacts way too much) but a stab wound in your side

He goes from mother hen to Bridezilla before a wedding… just in a caretaker sense

Snapping

If you don’t see the signs even then he will snap

Full on reenactment of Snow White

No need to worry why he gave you that apple. It’s good for your health!

Two seconds before catastrophe struck

So whilst you lay there, your vision going dark, you can still see his visage torn by a unnatural wide smile

If he can’t have you no one can

And if eternal sleep is the only solution to you never leaving him then so be it!

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everythingisblue-if · 11 months

Note

How would the ROs react to a Mc that very Clingy and touch starved. Such as following them around or constantly trying to hold their hand. (not to the point that it’s annoying but enough to be noticeable)

Lane - He doesn’t mind you doing this. But it has gotten to the point where he encourages you to do activities without him once in a while, so you can cope with your affection by doing something you love (besides him).

“I’ve planned an archery lesson with Henery, a sword-fighting lesson with B, and a cooking lesson with M. Those should keep you busy for a while.”

Henery - It’s noticeable to him, but it’s also annoying to him. Especially if you continue to touch him in public—he doesn’t enjoy PDA. It’s most likely he’ll hide from you or venture far away to where you can’t find him.

“Sir. I need climbing gear for the tallest tree in the forest. And camping gear, as well. I might stay the night.”

Simon - He loves the touches and you following him like a dog at his heels. This, however, makes him unapproachable by others, specifically ones who admire him. Not that he would be swayed by their attempts, but his royal rating is declining, so he won’t be able to use his charms to get what he wants anymore.

“I’m just going to the bar. No, no, I will not need money. And no, you just stay right there and wait until I return.”

B - They love it; they love you. But your active need for affection and touching is forcing them to neglect their duties. They’ll need a break from you once and while to do their job as commander, but they’ll be right by your side when they finish.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. Training has ran a bit late, but I’m here now. With you.”

Samara - She’s not exactly fond of your continuous affection. It was cute at first, but her mood is dropping so much, that she doesn’t even register you touching her anymore. She accepts it, but she might have a serious talk about it soon.

“We need to have a talk, dear. Remember how I told you that I adore when you touch me? Well…”

M - Being your protector, they’re more clingy than you are. They follow you around more, they touch you more, and they love you more. You doing the same is just putting a cherry on top of your relationship and they’re happy about it.

“I love the way your skin feels against mine. It’s as if tiny sparks dance across them, forming a connection.”

Knox - What better way to show everyone you’re theirs, without you all over them like they’re the best lover ever? You won’t be as touch-starved anymore if you keep it up, because they will satiate you every chance they get.

“Exhausted already, amore? I believed that you enjoyed the way I touch you.”

This is an ask I’ve had for a while. Sorry to the Anon who asked this around September 🫣

#everything is blue #if #ask #interactive fiction #asks #ro asks #ros #ro #henery #lane #simon #m #b #samara #knox

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chaotic-super · 8 months

Text

For Her Sake - Chapter 17

Read For Her Sake on AO3 here!

Kara is a little overwhelmed with the speed at which she’s being thrown into her new job but overall, she’s fairly certain that she’s coping to a decent degree which means she’s not going to be fired after only one shift.

She’s being shown around the place and given the chance to try every part of the job as the chance arises so she can get a true feel for what it’s going to be like but even so, she’s spending a lot of her time behind the bar where she’s the most comfortable and the most experienced. There are no complaints though, it’s all coming back to her even after spending a few years behind a desk and running around after a needy billionaire.

“Kara?”

Kara looks up when she hears her name called, finishing drying the glass she’s working on before sliding it on the shelf, her head turned towards the person grabbing her attention. “Yeah?”

“How is everything going?” Sam checks in on her, her hand resting on her back momentarily.

“Good, good. Just getting into the groove of things back here.” Kara shrugs with a smile. “It’s like riding a bike.”

Sam smiles back at her. “I’m glad to hear that but would you be awfully upset if I made you come and help out in the kitchen? We’re going to get even busier soon and the other guys have the bar covered.”

“Not at all, lead the way.”

Sam takes Kara into the kitchen where half a dozen people are already working their asses off cooking all different kinds of foods and the smell of it makes Kara’s mouth water. It all smells really good.

“Oh golly, it smells amazing back here.” Kara murmurs, taking a nice deep inhale as Sam grabs herself and Kara aprons and hats.

“I know right? Now, I’m not going to throw you in right in the deep end because that would just be cruel so how about we leave anything that takes fire or heat and show you how to prepare some desserts?”

That makes Kara smile bigger than she has all day. She gets to learn something new, be trusted in the kitchen and handle her favourite thing in the world, dessert. “That sounds great.”

“Awesome.” Sam grins back at her. “I take it you don’t mind handling ice cream?”

“The only downside is that all of it won’t be in my mouth.”

“Well, I can’t expect you to be able to know how to make any desserts you haven’t had the opportunity to try yourself, could I? How else are you meant to know how they are supposed to look and taste?”

Kara’s eyes go wide and her voice dreamy. “I think I might be in love with you.”

“Save those words for Lena, we’ve got work to do,” Sam says and promptly strides off to get the ingredients she needs to show Kara what to do and leaves Kara stuttering and blushing behind her, something she takes note of and inwardly cackles to herself.

Sam takes Kara out for lunch halfway through the day by cooking them both the most delicious pasta dish Kara’s ever had the luxury of tasting and then directing her out of the door so they can go and find a bench in the park not far from Reign.

“Seriously Kara, it’s fine. I’m the boss and if I say you get to take an extra few minutes to have lunch with me, then it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want the others to think I’m getting special treatment and hate me for it, I want my time at Reign to be good not filled with drama and pettiness.”

“I’m sure, besides, I take every new starter out for lunch. Or rather, usually, it’s just lunch in my office while we talk shop but I think this is close enough to pass. Nobody will question anything and if you’re so worried about having a long break, you can work over for fifteen minutes to help clean up.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Kara offers out a hand for Sam to shake and her chin practically brushes the floor when it gets slapped out of the air.

“Don’t be weird. Sit down and eat.” Sam hands her a box and a fork. Kara opens her mouth to argue but Sam holds up a finger when it looks like she’s about to and cuts her off. “Babababa, no words, just eat.”

“But— “

“Babababa, no words.”

Kara is smart enough to shut her mouth after that and start digging into her food, immediately silenced by the incredible taste. Sam let her try a spoonful when she was making it so she’s already aware of how good it is but somehow the knowledge that she’s got a whole container of it to herself just makes it all that much greater. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

Sam nods her agreement. “It is. When I first opened Reign, I had this great chef working for me, his name was John and he was the greatest chef I’ve ever met. He made a bunch of recipes that I have to say do compete with my own. He retired last year but insisted we keep the recipes anyway despite the fact he made a lot of them up and some were his family recipes. We still keep in touch and he still comes into the restaurant every few months to supposedly make sure we’re putting his recipes to good use but I think he just misses me really.”

Kara raises her eyebrows at her, her face disbelieving.

“What, you don’t think someone could miss me?”

“No, I think you’re plenty missable. I’d just say that he probably only shows up every few months because that’s all he can handle.”

“You little bitch.” Sam gasps, her face morphed into one of pure shock. “I definitely regret hiring you, you’re going to give me as much trouble as Lena does. Speaking of the other little bitch, she’s been texting me all morning to ask me if it would be weird to text you and ask how it’s going so I’d appreciate it if you would text her first and end the suffering of the poor soul.”

Kara snorts. “Sure. I promised I’d keep her updated anyway, she’s such a sweetheart for caring.”

This time Sam snorts. “Yeah, she’s definitely a sweetheart alright. She’s got some major heart eyes going on.” Kara misses the joke completely, now focused on moving her thumbs as quickly as she can across her screen so she can get back to her food because her tastebuds are already missing it and her heart is crying out for more and weeping in despair every time the wind blows and cools it a little more so it’s no longer piping hot.

“Did she tell you she took care of Lori for me the other day? She’s so amazing.” Kara gushes around a mouthful as soon as she finishes up her text. “I think it’s cute she gets worried about something simple like texting, I always welcome texts from her.”

Sam’s eyebrows almost merge in with her hairline. “She looked after Lori?”

“Yeah. My sister and I are moving at the minute so when we had to look for a new apartment and then go and view a place, Lena offered to look after Lori for us so we could do so easier. She took her to the park and fed the ducks peas. Lori hasn’t stopped talking about it since.”

“She never mentioned that,” Sam says, her voice soft. “She used to look after Ruby for me when she had to but it always made her a nervous wreck so I tried not to ask her if I could find someone else to do it.”

Kara’s eyes widen. “Oh no. I shouldn’t have accepted her offer.” Her hands fly up to her face. “She must have just offered to be nice and I took advantage of that. I need to apologize to her. I bet that’s why she got me the books and flowers; she was going to tell me and that was to sweeten me up but she backed out because she’s such a good person she didn’t want to upset me. Sam, I think I’m an awful person.”

By the time Kara has gotten through her mini-rant that borders on a panic-induced breakdown, she looks up to see Sam sitting next to her giggling.

“What’s so funny?”

“You and Lena.” She answers simply.

Kara frowns. “I don’t understand.”

Sam sighs. “Kara, with all due respect, you’re as big of an idiot as Lena is. She doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do so if she offered to take care of Lori, she wanted to and if she got you flowers, she wanted to. People that get other people flowers are usually trying to send a message. As Lena’s best friend, I can’t tell you exactly what that means but you’re a smart girl.”

Kara is confused for a minute and isn’t sure how to respond to Sam but after the brief silence that follows Sam’s explanation, it finally clicks. “Oh. Oh.”

“Yep.”

“I should call her later, huh?”

“That would be beneficial for my text inbox. I never get a break anymore, she’s very good at overthinking things so just a heads up, you’ve got to be able to look after her just as much as she’s willing to look after you.”

Kara taps Sam on the shoulder lightly. “What makes you think that I share those feelings.”

“I can see it written across your face.”

“It’s really that obvious?” Kara asks, her voice shaky with nerves. She thought she was doing pretty well at hiding it.

A nod confirms her fears. “Yes but if it makes you feel better, the only reason it’s obvious to me is because I know about Lena’s feelings because she’s my best friend and I can read her so I had to scope you out to see if you feel the same. It’s easy to find something you’re looking for, you know?”

“Maybe. I guess so.” Kara says, fiddling with the edge of the container, now completely empty, something that upsets Kara greatly.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so sad to find out the woman you like actually likes you back?”

Kara looks down, finding her words in a momentary deep breath as she closes her eyes. “I’m happy she likes me back but my life is crazy right now and while I do really like her, reallylike her I mean, I have to prioritize my daughter. I’m starting a new job; Alex is just settling into hers and we’re moving apartments. It’s a lot of change in schedules and routines and that’s tough for a four-year-old to deal with. She’s my world and I’m not at a point where I can risk disrupting anything else in her life. If it was just me, I’d happily take the leap but she’s my daughter, I just…can’t.”

Sam’s hand lands on Kara’s knee. “I hear you. You’re not at a point where a relationship is good for you or your family. That’s ok. You don’t have to be in a relationship you don’t want to be in.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.”

“You just want to do what’s right for your daughter. That’s perfectly fine and Lena will understand that. I just think it would do both of you well to have this conversation between the two of you. She’s not going to hold anything against you, it’s not her style and I think you’ll find that she appreciated the honesty.”

Kara’s lips twist. “I don’t want to upset her.”

“The only way you’ll truly upset her is by allowing her to continue essentially dating you without dating you and leading her on. You guys are having dinner and sleepovers. You can still do all of that but until you state that you’re doing those things as friends, she’s going to have hope there’s something more and that’s just as unhealthy as getting into a relationship when you’re not ready to be in one.”

“I hear you.” Kara looks her dead in the eyes to convey just how sincere she is. “’ll talk to her the next time I see her in person. I think that’s a conversation to be had face to face.”

Sam squeezes her knee. “Good call. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I think I needed to have this talk with someone. I just wasn’t expecting it to be with my new boss in the middle of a workday.”

Sam stands up, offering a hand to help Kara up too. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting it either but Lena’s my family and I have to look out for her. Usually, I’d just threaten you but unfortunately, I kind of like you so that’s not happening. It’s a shame really, I’d love to scare you a little bit but you’re too nice and you kind of have a good head on your shoulders.”

Kara has to disagree with the last part of that because she did not have a good head on her shoulders when she did what she did that led to her meeting Lena but she’s not about to expose herself to Sam like that. That would end with Sam dragging her to the lake on the other side of the park and holding her under until the bubbles stop.

“Thanks.”

“Alright, let’s get back before people start questioning whether or not you got the job by canoodling with the boss.”

Blue eyes roll without her even thinking about it and it earns Kara a little shove.

“I’m going to teach you how to use the oven when we get back.”

“You better make sure there’s a first aid kit lying around then.”

“There is and I’ve made sure there’s a fresh page waiting in the accident logbook too just in case. You did great this morning and there’s no reason for us to drag our feet on getting you thrown into the mux in the kitchen. You’re better than you think.”

Kara smiles, her head ducking. “I think I’ll keep this job; it’s going to give my ego a good boost.”

“I can always make you mop the floors for eight hours straight.”

“After working for Cat Grant, that sounds like a joy.”

“Fuck, breaking you is going to be hard.”

Kara laughs and it makes Sam break out into a chuckle too. She’s going to really like this job, she can tell.

Kara grabs her bag as soon as she’s finished cleaning up. Sam did try to tell her that she didn’t really have to stay the extra few minutes but she’s not one to go back on her word and since she and Sam did take a long lunch, it’s only fair. She’s a team player and she’s not one to leave the team picking up the slack so she can goof off.

She’s gotten along with everyone so far and it turns out that the potty-mouthed chefs in the kitchen loved her attempts at swearing because having a small child has definitely changed her. She used to swear a little but never excessively but once Lori was born, every swear got adapted and it’s quite funny watching a woman drop ice cream down herself with a cry of “Barnacles!”.

It turns out that the accident book only got one new addition too so Kara’s taking that as a win. She’s only got a minor burn on her pinky where she accidentally set a towel on fire moving a pan but she’s not going to do it again because she’s already been made fun of for it enough that she’s never going to forget it again. None of it felt malicious though and that’s all that matters. One day down and she’s already in a better environment than before.

She’s all prepared to get the bus home but when she steps out of Reign, she sees Winn waiting there with his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Danvers!”

Her eyes light up and her hands fly up in a double wave. “Schott, Schott, Schott!”

He pulls her into a tight embrace and sways her slightly. “In my quest for knowledge of your first day at your new job, I came to the understanding that it is easier to extract information when in a private vehicle rather than a land submarine.”

“You’re nosy so you came to pick me up.” Kara shakes her head. “Also, I told you to stop calling buses land submarines, it’s weird and unnecessary.”

“No can do, buckaroo. I parked up the street, come hither and tell me all about your first day, I want all the deets.”

“You’re so annoying. I have half a mind to just leave you here and get the bus home anyway.”

Winn pouts. “I waited fifteen extra minutes for you because you were late out and you want to leave me here? The tragedy.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, now spill.”

Kara gives in and starts walking him through her day, purposefully not adding any details about what she and Sam talked about. The next person she talks to about that is Lena and Lena alone.

The week flies by faster than Kara could ever have expected it and with each day that passes, she finds that she loves her new job and is improving more and more every day. There’s only been one day this week she hasn’t spent at least six of the eight hours of her shift in the kitchen and that’s because two of the bartenders were sick so she had to focus on helping out there rather than the kitchen.

She doesn’t mind a bit though because everyone has been so nice to her, all of her new coworkers have been great to her and she’s loving every minute of it, even the dullest of jobs and nastiest of customers don’t hold a candle to some of the things she put up with over the years when working at CatCo and not all of it was Cat’s fault, even though a lot of it was.

The place was rife with self-absorbed assholes willing to hurt whoever it takes to get their name on a byline and earn the most money so being somewhere where none of that is evident is like a breath of fresh air.

She’s just finished her last shift of the week and she’s got a couple of days off now to hang out with Lori, something she’s thrilled about because while the job is great, her feet are killing her from being standing up all day so at night the most she’s doing is chilling with Lori on the couch playing games, reading or watching movies and that’s all well and good but her daughter loves to run around and play and she’d like to be able to do that with her.

Alex has been nothing but supportive and has been asking her to tell her all about her day every night over dinner and it’s been nothing short of lovely being able to talk about her work without it becoming a bitchfest and having to listen to Alex telling her she deserves better.

People always say that kids are smarter than we give them credit for and Kara has never been surer that it’s true. Lori can tell she’s already happier and where she would give her lots and lots of cuddles before to “make Mama feel better” she’s now giving them to her to “feel as happy as Mama.” It’s delightful and it makes her heart ache at the same time knowing that Lori knew she was miserable before.

She’s also been messaging Lena throughout the week too and it’s been a bittersweet experience. Now that she’s got it confirmed that Lena likes her too, she’s thrilled because who wouldn’t be excited when finding out their crush is also crushing on them? The bitter part comes from having the knowledge that they both like each other but they can’t do anything about it in the way she wants.

She’s got plans for a game night tomorrow though and while it’s technically Winn’s turn to host, Kara invited Sam to come and she’s bringing her daughter too so Lena suggested her place because there’s more room for everyone and there’s no way they would all fit into Winn’s tiny apartment.

They aren’t heading over to her place until six though so they have the full day to do whatever they want to do as a family before they hang out as a group.

Lori is already asleep and Alex is dozing on the couch beside her as she reads one of the books Lena bought her and with every page turn, she feels her gratitude amplifying. Lena has gifted her an escape she’s been craving for a long time but barely even had the time to process her need for. Reading has always been a key part of her life and yet she can count the number of books she’s read in the last year on one hand so having this opportunity to relax and let herself get swept away in someone else’s life and leave her worries behind for a couple of hours is everything she’s needed and more.

She’s so enthralled by the book that she gets through the majority of it in one sitting and she’s only stirred out of her own little bubble by Alex stretching, her legs making their way into her lap as she turns over. Kara adjusts herself and Alex’s legs a little so she’s more comfortable but settles back into her book because while it’s late, the soft comfort of the quiet and the physical grounding provided by her sister is everything she needs to round out a good week. The first of what she hopes to be many.

Kara ends up waking up to the smell of the fabulous new book smell she wants to make a candle out of. Her book is on her face, her nose making a very good bookmark, and Alex’s legs are no longer across her body.

She must have either fallen to one side in the night or Alex lay her down as much as she could because her legs are propped up on the couch beside her and she’s at a bit of a strange angle, her back pressed into the corner of the couch and her neck stretched back into an awkward position, the weight of the book not helping her avoid neck pain in the slightest.

Her neck cracks as she lifts her head up, her thumbs tucking into the pages of the book so she doesn’t lose her page though she’ll probably have to skip back a couple of pages when she goes to carry on reading because there’s not a chance in hell she’ll actually remember what she was reading last night right before she fell asleep.

Slipping a receipt into the book as her bookmark, she looks over at the kitchen and sees Alex filling up two mugs with coffee and a cup with milk for Lori.

“G’mornin’,” She mumbles, her brain still trying to fight its way into the waking world. “Coffee?”

“Good morning, sunshine.” Alex brings her the mug of coffee she just poured her. “The coffee is nice and hot, feel free to have another ten minutes to sleep if you want to while it cools down.”

“Why? What have you done?” Kara questions, clarity finding her as she shakes away the last clutches of sleep.

Alex shoves the mug into her hands, “Why don’t you believe that sometimes I want to do nice things for my baby sister without it being because I’ve done something?”

“Because never once have you done something nice for me without it being because you’ve either done something wrong or you want something so, which is it?” Kara is happy to have the coffee but Alex is definitely freaking her out.

“That’s so not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

Alex shakes her head again. “I completely disagree, anyway, you’re eating into your sleep time, I’m going to go and check on Lori now, she was just stirring when I just started the coffee so you know we don’t have long now before we’ve got to entertain her. “

“I’m good. I’m just gonna sit here and drink my coffee while Auntie Alex does the work because she’s done something wrong.”

Alex folds her arms and clicks her tongue. “Not true but since I’m a good sister I’m going to go and do it anyway. Chillax, sis.”

She strolls away confidently while Kara stares at her back and mouths in confusion, “Chillax?”

They decide to take Lori down to the pier for the day and then she’ll undoubtedly be tired by the time they get to game night and will hopefully fall asleep early. Fingers crossed anyway. Kara and Alex take it in turns showering before they head out and Kara gives Lori a bath but other than that, Alex handles all Lori’s care and it takes a while for Kara to get it out of her what she’s done but she does learn that Alex’s ironing skills leave a lot to be desired and she now has one less shirt.

She isn’t really mad about it though, Alex isn’t usually the one to do the laundry because she’s so bad at it but since she started her new job, Alex wanted to do something nice for her and it didn’t pan out. She’ll let this one slide.

They take the bus to the pier, two actually, but it’s not a painful ride with books to read to pass the time. Kara keeps an eye on Alex as they walk to the bus stop and then again when they get off the bus at the pier and they start to walk. She’s not had the opportunity to check in with Alex fully about her recovery in a while other than the generic questions which get brushed off with moderate ease and she’s not had much of a chance to watch her closely as she walks either so today is her chance to assess for herself how Alex’s recovery is going.

Kara makes a point to let Alex walk ahead of her and simply meanders on behind her and Lori, who is holding her aunt’s hand and bouncing around excitedly as they walk along the wooden planks towards the end of the pier where they can look out over the glossy waves of the sea.

There are a few things she’s noticing, the most important being that she’s walking much better than she was before. She really worried her before and yet here she is walking again and doing a great job of it.

Her gait is a little stilted, one leg straightening more than the other when she steps forward and she favours one leg over the other but she’s not panting or getting out of breath and she’s not so much as glancing at any of the benches they pass because she’s not feeling the need to sit down and have a rest.

Alex must be taking her doctor’s advice seriously and resting as much as possible and sitting down at work wherever she can but Lena is, no doubt, a large part of that because she’s very obviously a big fan of looking out for the people she cares about.

Ugh, Lena. Kara still has to talk to her and she’s not certain she’s going to have adequate time alone with her to talk today and even If she does find the time, she doesn’t want her to be left alone after being rejected but she also doesn’t want her to have to pretend she’s ok if she’s not. Maybe she should work out a time with Sam so she can be there for her afterwards.

That makes her feel big-headed though, like she’s expecting Lena to be heartbroken over her. No, that’s not possible, Lena will be fine. She’ll find time today and if she can’t she’ll ask her to meet for lunch sometime in the week.

Alex looks back and cocks an eyebrow at her. “Did I pass your test, Doctor Danvers?”

“What? I have no idea what you mean.” Kara lies, upping her pace so they can walk side by side, each of them taking one of Lori’s hands and periodically swinging her and making her fall into fits of giggles that definitely add a few years onto their lives.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Alex mocks her, her voice going all high and squeaky before she goes back to her normal tone. “Such a liar. You were watching me.”

“I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re really getting better. I know I haven’t really had as much time to check on you but I should have made time, I’m sorry. I let myself get caught up in everything and I’ve not been here for you as much as I should have been.”

Alex waves her off. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot more than I have because I never once felt like you’ve been absent in any way, Kara. You’ve been here for us both as much as you can and I’ve got no complaints other than the creepy way you just watched me walk. I’d prefer if you didn’t do that, it’s weird.”

“How else am I supposed to check your progress?”

“Ugh, I don’t know…ask?”

“You always lie and say you’re fine.”

“I usually am.”

Kara points at her. She’s got her ‘a-ha’ moment. “Usually.”

Alex pays her no mind. “I stand by what I said and while it is usually alright, the times it’s not, are times when I get to prove to myself that I’m still strong.”

“The strongest.” Kara mumbles. “I’m sorry, I know I’m interfering when you don’t need me to, I’m just worried about you.”

Alex’s head tilts to one side. “Why now? Why are you worried now?”

“I don’t know, I might know when we can afford therapy but until then you just get to deal with my weird mood swings and overwhelming need to check on the people I love.“

Alex snorts. “It doesn’t take a therapist to know that you have attachment and abandonment issues, sis. Want to use Google to fix them?”

“Sure but if it tries to tell me I have cancer, I’m giving up.”

“Deal, now look at the ocean, maybe run Lori up this pier to get her energy out and if that doesn’t work then you can play fetch with her.”

“She’s not a dog.”

“I never said she would be the one fetching anything.”

“Have I ever told you just how much I dislike you at times?”

A hand on her shoulder sends her almost toppling right over as she is on the receiving end of a harsh shove and then Alex is running with Lori in tow, the pair laughing hysterically. Kara’s heart is fuller than it has been since before the accident. There’s a lot of room to grow but for now, this works.

Get the next chapters weeks in advance on my Patreon here!

Find out more about a new Supergirl fandom event for writers and artists here!

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #fanfic #cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fanfic #supergirl cw #kara zor el #human kara danvers #for her sake #chaoticsuper #fluff #angst

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csuitebitches · 2 years

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On Being Resilient

It’s very important that you know and understand the importance of being resilient. It’s easy to say you’re strong when you’re obviously not.

I feel that sometimes the whole “fake it till you make it” culture has some clear problems with it.

The problem with culture like that is that your external doesn’t match the internal. So even if you look confident, you won’t feel it, and you won’t exude real confidence. While such a tactic is a great short term method, it’s not healthy for the long term - you are going to have to address those issues.

When you look up online on how to build resilience, you’ll see a flux of similar things. Positive thinking. Positive friends. Relax. Breathe.

I’m sorry if I disrespect any of those authors - but quite frankly, I find it a little bullshit-y.

So let me share with you things I’ve actually learned, tried and tested on my path to being resilient. That doesn’t mean that I’m 100% resilient.

But bear in mind that I was an overly sensitive child, very emotional teenager - and now in my 20s, I don’t get affected by situations to that extent. And I’ve stopped victimising myself, another plus.

As usual. If this doesn’t work for you, I’m sorry. This is not a cookie-cut template. It’s better for you to be inspired by this and recreate your own rather than follow it exactly so. But do what you feel is best.

•••

1. I started by creating a SWOT analysis of myself.

- S- Strengths: skills, values you have, good habits, what you can offer to people in terms of skills (both corporate life and personal life). Examples: honesty, problem solver, marketing, drawing, Excel, etc.

- W- weaknesses: things you know you’re not good at, both private life and corporate life. Examples: impatient, temper issues, programming (I hate it lol), paying attention for a long time, bad relationships etc.

- O- opportunities: what are incoming opportunities? Club memberships, conferences, job offers, career changes, online courses, etc. if you don’t have any, CREATE them. Go online and look for networking events. Go on coursera/ EdX and find a course you want to actually do.

- T- Threats: What obstacles are coming your way? For instance, your plate may be full. Or you have to compete for a job. Examples : being obtrusive, having competition, being a perfectionist, etc.

•••

2. Next, I took a couple of days to really go over the SWOT. You have to be honest with yourself. Fully. No one else will see it but you. You could even go around and ask your closest friends and family what they think are your best and worst qualities.

•••

3. Next, I took a mental resilience test online, because I realised that I wanted to quantify my data. It’s easier to improve when there’s a number visible to you. I used this: click here.

They score you on four factors:

* Motivation

* Concentration

* Coping With Pressure

* Confidence

•••

4. After seeing my score and analysing it properly, I decided to etch out a game plan for each factor. Here’s a sample:

- Motivation:

* setting smaller goals in order to succeed

* Accepting failure and moving on fast

* Asking for feedback on performance (work, school, organisations)

* Working on things that give me satisfaction

- concentration:

* using brain games such as Elevate and Mental Math to improve focus

* Reading more

* Trying different things at work/ school to remain focused (some people work best around other people. Some people work best alone. Some prefer noise, white noise or silence. Figuring this out really helps).

- Coping with pressure

* making quicker decisions (I used to take forever to make decisions because my emotions would come in the way. Now I stick to a simple pros and cons list and it helps me a lot).

* Being able to deal with adversity. Two things come in play here - a) learning from other people’s mistakes (ted talks, videos, your boss, parents, friends etc) b) learning from your own mistakes. Put yourself in micro situations - such as choosing where to eat with your friends or partner (not always, mind you - but stop being indecisive when they are too!), take on responsibility at work, etc.

- Confidence

* You need to believe that you will succeed.

* For me, setting mini goals a week is the most effective. Areas: Home (laundry, cleaning, etc), Self (homework, exercise, meditation, habits, learning new things), Environment (social life, work life, friends, family).

* I use a free habit tracker “Habit” (pink icon in the App Store) to track my 6 daily habits.

•••

4. Resilience comes with progress. It comes slowly. There will be setbacks. There will be issues. There are often times when, in a fit of emotion, we forget about resilience and get carried away in our situation. You need to realise this. You need to remind yourself to be resilient every single day. Say it out loud or write it down or set a reminder, I don’t care. But you need it at the back of your brain.

You’ll face all sorts of situations to show your resilience. Maybe a team member isn’t doing their part in a project. Maybe a friend of yours is adamant in you doing a certain thing with them. Maybe your family has some expectation of you that you’re not interested in achieving.

Resilience doesn’t mean aggression. It doesn’t mean anger. It means being tactful, calm, level headed but firm. It means that you don’t fake-compliment to make someone feel nice (occasionally it’s necessary if a friend or something is really down). It means you convey your genuine opinions about something and not necessarily agree with the majority.

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mewcharm · 1 month

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health + life update

hi, for those who have been around for a bit now, i thought id share some new information regarding my health!

for a while now I’ve voiced my concerns regarding me having long covid, and i finally found out what it was! i was diagnosed with athsma… freaky! doctors said it was pretty ugly, so, now im on medicine to hopefully tame the thing.

since that was figured out, a lot of things were kind of culminating into a biggg mental health crash. i couldn’t function well due to intrusive thoughts, and my brain started finding things to cling to and obsess over. ive been evaluating my options and have decided to pursue therapy and maybe see if I have ocd. a lot of my symptoms fall in line with something like that, but we will have to see what my doctors think.

it’s really hard, not to blame yourself for the actions of your abusers. you once loved them as friends, or partners - and they hurt you irreparably, leaving you with all the weight. “I could’ve done more,” id cry, when i really did my best. id do something entirely innocent and okay, and intrusive thoughts would swallow me whole, insisting i had ulterior motives. i won’t lie, after getting the short end of the stick for a whole year, you start thinking it may be you did something to deserve it.

if you’re reading this, and resonate with it - i feel sorrow for you. it’s horrible to cope with, especially when people in your past were so deplorable. you’re out the other end now, and you can only go up from here. keep people who understand you close, and cherish them. protect your peace.

all that sad stuff out of the way, though…

im migrating here for reals!

it’s a big decision, one im very nervous about - especially since art is my job. i was mainly known over on twitter for my work, and i don’t doubt business will be slow for me during this transition, but i have amazing people by my side wanting to uplift and support me. i wouldn’t be able to make art my job without my followers, mutuals, and friends being here and sticking with me over the years. thank you all!

#text post #mental illness #mental health #artists on tumblr #physical disability #disabled #athsma

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nani-nonny · 13 days

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Obligatory Attached au angst post (1149 words)

(This post goes in hand with this past post, although chronologically I’m not sure which goes first hehe it works both ways I suppose :D)

[Prompt: Mention of Raph’s death :( and Leo’s horrible way of coping until he snaps]

Donnie walks into Leo’s room, not bothering to flick the lights on. He stops three steps in, his eyes softening upon seeing Leo standing at a table, bracing the edge like his life depends on it. His brother’s head hangs low, staring at the ground.

With another look, Donnie notices Raph’s red bandana in Leo’s hand. The fabric is crumpled in the slider’s vice grip, the tails hanging enough for Donnie to see the stains trapped in the cloth.

Donnie clears his throat, raising his arm to pull up a hologram of a timetable from his tech-arm brace. “Greetings, brooding leader of the resistance, we have a meeting in the next 30 minutes. People have been wondering where you’ve been.”

Leo doesn’t respond, but his hands grip tighter to the table causing the material to groan under the pressure.

Donnie looks around awkwardly for a second, uncertain with what to do in his current situation. He tries to make small talk, “I’ve noticed you haven’t marked off on the roster for the past three days. Have you gotten your much needed beauty sleep as of late?”

Leo turns his head away from Donnie’s direction. His shoulders tense and he takes a deep breath.

Donnie takes a few more steps in, causing the door to close to automatically close behind him. He still doesn’t turn on the lights, but he flicks on a soft glow from his arm brace. It illuminates the room with a purple glow, barely revealing Leo’s disturbed features in the dark.

The softshell frowns when he sees the dark circles under Leo’s eyes. He had heard from Mikey that Leo was showing concerning declination in health, especially in the form of lack of sleep. He was too busy to check in on Leo, taking over for Leo when necessary and organizing just about everything when it comes to running the resistance behind the scenes. And now, he regrets not taking even a mere second to check on his twin.

He hadn’t seen Leo since his twin declared he’d make the decision on what to do with the infant. But he didn’t think it would prove difficult to this extent. Or, perhaps he had hoped it wouldn’t be difficult for his twin who always managed to come up with a plan. Maybe he believed Leo would make the right choice, and they would move on from the krang infant like an everyday occurrence.

It was a simple decision in Donnie’s eyes, or as simple as it seemed for Leo to make. He trusts Leo would make the right decision. He didnt think it would affect Leo.

“Is it… is it about the infant?”

Leo clenches his teeth. He nods.

Donnie can see the frustration in Leo’s expression, it was deep and churning. An expression even he would be able to discern. “You don’t have to make the decision on your own, do you want to talk to me about it?”

Donnie’s eyes flick to the red bandana in Leo’s hand again, and adds, “Do you want to talk to Raph about it?”

Leo’s mouth twitches open, but nothing comes out. Donnie sees this as an opportunity.

“Why don’t you talk to Raph about it? I’m sure he’d love to talk to you. Mikey can even set up the whole ‘ghost ceremony’ for you so it’s easier to contact the fam’. You know, as ridiculous as it is to think about. Raph’ll know what to do, Leo. You know Raph, he’s dependable on hero decisions. Come on, let’s go to Mikey and we can figure this out together.”

“No.”

Donnie frowns, “What?”

“I’m not, I’m not going to Raph. I’m doing this on my own.”

Donnie crosses his arms over his chest, “Oh, really? You seem to be doing a real good job so far.”

“Shut up,” Leo grumbles and leans on the table slightly.

“Enough of this, one-man hero spiel Leonardo. Let’s just go to Mikey and get this over with. Raph won’t be mad that we’re bugging him—.”

Leo slams his fist on the table suddenly, his demeanor snapping and his voice raising to something akin to a roar, “I’m not taking this to Raph’s ghost!”

Donnie pauses in disbelief. Near shock, even, at the change in Leo’s voice. “Wha—you know it’s not really his ghost, right?”

Leo slams his fist, this time the hand holding Raph’s bandana. His mouth quivers as he yells, “I know, it’s not Raph’s ghost. I know that. But that’s not what I need! I need Raph. I need to talk to Raph, here! —in the now, —in the flesh! I need my brother, not his ghost! I need him!”

Leo swallows, shutting his eyes tight and he raises his fist again, but he slowly lowers to the table. His voice is strained, strangled somehow, “I don’t want to talk to Raph through the Hamato ninpo. I don’t want to take this to Dad either. I just… I just want to talk to my big brother. I want to look him in the eyes, and I want to hear his voice. I want him to take Casey’s baby from my hands, and tell me exactly what we’re going to do with It.”

Donnie watches as Leo crumbles, mentally and physically, when his twin’s hands leave the table to hold Raph’s bandana. Crumbling to the floor as if holding onto that table was the only thing keeping him standing.

Leo holds the bandana to his chest as his voice comes out as nearly a whimper, “I want my brother alive… is that so bad? Even if I can contact him any time I want, I want him here with us. Not through some ghost connection we have with our ancestors… not as something I can’t even hug.”

Donnie doesn’t know what to say, or rather, he’s not sure how to say anything. How can he think of anything when Leo’s pleading desperately like a child? A small, small child who wants his big brother to tell him everything’s okay?

He always thought Leo was strong for taking up the responsibilities Raph had left behind in death. He thought Leo was strong for being able to move forward after Raph’s death. He saw Leo’s strong back and the confidence exuding from his twin and used it as his own strength to overcome their brother’s death.

But seeing Leo now? Small and curled over and trembling shoulders? Leo’s silent cries as he crumbles before him?

Donnie sits beside Leo and opens his arms. “Come here.”

Leo swallows and wipes his tears before turning to Donnie and hugging his twin. He buries his face in Donnie’s embrace as he continues to cry silently.

Donnie reaches over Leo’s shell to message Mikey, Get over here quickly. He sends his location immediately and returns to hugging his twin.

Mikey nearly breaks down the door ten seconds later.

#rottmnt attached #rottmnt snippet #rottmnt #rottmnt future leo #rottmnt future mikey #rottmnt future donnie #rottmnt apocalypse #tw: mention of sibling death

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hollywoodxwhore · 1 year

Text

Mine | Chapter 3

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: alcohol & marijuana usage, swearing, drunk person, mentions of vomit but nothing graphic (don't worry, your girl has a phobia), col & presley pining for each other, col talking about his dick again

Again, thank you all for such a positive response to this story!

Presley

I enjoy the show even more tonight after my talk with Colson.

His apology seemed genuine and it was nice to hear that he wants me to be comfortable around them. As much as he makes me nervous, a part of me can’t help but go soft with relief knowing that this is who Cash spends all his time with.

We’re going out tonight, and since I promised last night that I would, I can’t fake a headache and curl up in my hotel room with room service and a movie, much to my dismay.

I don’t bother changing clothes after the concert. I’m good with my outfit. I freshen up my makeup and spritz a little perfume, then meet up with the rest of the group in Slim’s room. Colson and Rook aren’t here yet, but I recognize the two ladies Cash introduced me to yesterday, Ashleigh and Olivia.

“Hey, Presley!” Ashleigh greets. “You’re hanging out with us tonight. Forget the boys.”

“Deal,” I say with a smile.

Once Rook is here, everyone is ready to go. Confused, I turn to Ashleigh. “What about Colson?” I ask.

“Oh, if he isn’t here early then he’ll be late,” she explains. “That’s Colson for you.” I feel slightly disappointed. Is he going to meet up with us eventually? I shake my head a bit to clear my thoughts. God, what am I doing? Colson is clearly seeking a friendship and nothing more. He might not even find me attractive. I need to stop pining over him before this gets embarrassing.

We pile into two cars and are taken to a bar nearby. It’s pretty deserted, thankfully, and I’m happy to follow the girls to a private corner where the music isn’t very loud. I watch as the boys find a table, too, talking animatedly about something. I smile softly. I do want to hang out with Cash, but it’s also kind of fun to just observe.

“So Presley,” Olivia says, and I meet her eyes. Gosh, she’s beautiful. Everyone here is beautiful. “Tell us all the dirt on Cash.”

I lean my head back and laugh, then turn as a waitress approaches our table. Both women order a Sex on the Beach. One drink is usually my limit and that sounds pretty good, so I order one for myself.

I sigh once the waitress is gone. “There’s not much, really,” I say. “He really is as sweet as he seems.”

“Is there a girlfriend back home I should know about?” Olivia continues, leaning onto her elbows on the table with a little smirk. “What?” She says when Ashleigh laughs.

I grin. “Nope. He’s single,” I say. And she’s just his type. I already know he’s into her, he’s told me, but I won’t tell his secret, as much as I want to.

“Interesting.” Olivia nods slowly. “Very interesting.”

Ashleigh and I laugh. “So you’re a piercer, right?” Ashleigh asks, and I nod. “For how long? Tell me more.”

“I’ve been at my current shop since I was, like, 20,” I explain. “Obviously had to start as an apprentice and the girl who I was apprenticing for ended up leaving the profession, which made for a super seamless transition into her spot for me.”

“That sounds like such a cool job,” Olivia says.

“It is, for the most part,” I say with a nod.

Ashleigh wrinkles her nose. “I bet you get gross clients sometimes,” she says. “I don’t mean physically, but behavior-wise.”

I grimace thinking about the creep I had to pierce right before Cash invited me to join him on tour. “Yeah. Trust me, you don’t want to know,” I say.

“I do, though. That’s my toxic trait,” Olivia says, and we laugh. The waitress drops off our drinks and the first few sips go down easily. It’s one of the best mixed drinks I’ve ever had.

“Yum,” Olivia sighs.

“Right,” I agree. “So how did you guys get into the industry?”

Ashleigh grins and takes out her phone. “It might be easier just to show you,” she says, scrolling for a moment. She turns her phone around, and on the screen is a picture of her sandwiched between two teenage boys. Upon closer inspection, I realize they’re Colson and Slim.

“No way!” I say. “Y’all are babies here!”

“Yep,” Ashleigh says, pocketing her phone again. “We’ve been friends forever. I managed them when they were young and broke as shit, and I’ve been there ever since.”

“That’s insane,” I say, glancing over at the boys. Huh. I hadn’t noticed Colson walking in, but there he is, standing beside Slim. I feel oddly sentimental about the fact that they started out as nothing and now they’re some of the biggest musicians in the world. It gives me lots of hope for Cash.

Colson catches my eye right away and my heart stutters in my chest. It’s impossible to look away when he’s spearing me with his eyes like that. They’re so blue and intense, even from across the bar. He lifts his chin in an invitation to come over there.

“I’m being beckoned,” I say, grabbing my drink. “I’ll be back.”

I almost feel out of control of my own body as I walk towards the man for which I definitely shouldn’t be feeling butterflies. “Hey,” he says when I reach him. “Sex on the Beach?”

I nod, taking another sip. “Best one I’ve ever had.”

Colson smirks, obviously finding some double meaning in my words, and I blush. He has no idea.

“Are you drinking?” I ask, and as I do, the bartender slides a thick glass to Colson. Straight whiskey. He holds up the glass and I cheers with him, finishing my drink.

“Another?” He asks me, but I shake my head. He arches an eyebrow. “No?”

I shrug. “Not really a drinker. One is usually my limit,” I explain.

Colson studies me for a long moment and then nods slowly. “That’s cool. I should take a page out of your book,” he says.

“Definitely makes it easier to get out of bed in the morning,” I say.

“You smoke though, huh?” He asks.

I nod. “Oh yeah.”

“It’s the best,” Colson says.

“I agree. Way better than alcohol,” I say.

Colson sighs. “Damn. You’re right.” He studies his whiskey, tosses it back, and declines another when the bartender asks. “You wanna go outside and smoke?” He asks.

“Sure,” I say, feeling excited about having a moment alone with him. I follow him out the back door of the bar. With the sun down, it actually feels like September and I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself.

Colson pulls a joint and lighter out of his pocket and I bite back a grin. So careless. He lights it and I try to ignore the way his jaw and neck look when he’s inhaling. He passes the joint my way and I breathe deeply, inhaling the earthy flavor. As I blow it out, I immediately feel lighter.

“Thanks for sharing,” I say, passing it back to him. Our fingers brush as he takes it.

“What did you think of the show?” He asks, bringing the joint to his lips.

“It was great,” I say. “You put on a super fun show.”

Colson smiles faintly and passes me the joint. “We try,” he says. “People pay a lot for our tickets. I want them to cost less, but that’s not really in my power.”

I nod. I like that there’s a humbleness about him. I sense that he’d love a small, intimate show where no one had to pay. I could be wrong, but it’s just the vibe I get.

He’s known as such a wild, party boy in the media. A guy that sleeps around — well, maybe that one’s true. But from what I’ve seen so far, Colson is chill, friendly, and conversational. Like Cash says, the media is totally wrong about this dude.

We pass the joint back and forth a few more times before I speak again. “So, I saw a picture of you as a teenager today,” I say.

Colson snorts. “Which one?”

“Ashleigh showed me,” I say, watching his face. “Can’t believe you guys have been together for that long.”

Colson nods, looking up at the sky. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker on the planet,” he says. “I have some serious ride or dies with me.”

“Has everyone else been around that long?” I ask.

Colson shakes his head. “Nah, we picked them up along the way like lost puppies.” We laugh. “Yes, your brother included.”

I grin. “Yeah. He’s a puppy, that’s for sure,” I agree.

“He says you two are close,” Colson says, and I nod.

“He’s my best friend,” I say, and I’m surprised that my voice breaks a little on the last word. “Shit. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him.”

Colson studies me. “Yeah. I bet it’s tough having him so far away.”

“Yeah. It is,” I say, “but I’m so happy for him. He deserves this.”

“You’re not getting him back at this point,” Colson says, bending down to snuff out the joint. He stands back up to his full, intimidating height. “Ready?” I nod and follow him inside, and shit, I’m high. That was some good stuff we were smoking.

I join the girls again, this time sipping a cherry Coke, and with my inhibitions lowered by the weed, I can’t help but watch Colson. Luckily, the girls don’t seem to notice, too engrossed in their conversation. But man, Colson is just…a wonder.

Tall and lithe, the way he moves is so strangely intoxicating. Though some of the others are tall, he towers over all of them. Covered in tattoos and piercings, he should be intimidating, but when I can see the shadows his long lashes cast on his cheeks, the warm way he smiles at whoever he’s talking to, he takes on a soft, angelic quality. In the deepest parts of my soul, I know this man is so much deeper than most other men I’ve met. It’s almost haunting.

It isn’t long before the night takes a turn. I suddenly see Cash with his head down on the table and anxiety spikes in my chest. I get to my feet to go over to him, putting a hand to his back. “Cash?” I say. He just groans. We’ve gotten Colson’s attention and he comes over, brows furrowed in concern. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?” I ask.

“I think he’s wasted,” Colson says with a wince. “He was pounding the shots.”

Cash groans again. “I’m gonna puke,” he says suddenly and my eyes widen.

“Slim!” Colson barks, and Slim hurries over. They get their arms around Cash and hurry him out of the bar where I can only assume he pukes up everything he’s drunk tonight. I grimace. I have to share a room with that tonight.

I love my brother, but god dammit.

Colson

It’s a good thing I don’t have a weak stomach, because Cash puking all over my fucking boots would be pretty insufferable otherwise.

Slim and I dump him into a car and climb in with him. Presley takes the front seat. Lucky for us it’s a quick drive to the hotel and Cash manages to hold it in until we’re back. Slim and I get him up to his room and immediately he’s in the bathroom again.

“Alright, I need to go change and shower,” I say, grimacing.

“I’ve got him,” Presley says with a sigh, rubbing Cash’s back as he throws up.

“You sure?” I ask.

She looks up at me with those gorgeous green eyes. “Yeah. Go wash the puke off you.” She smirks a little, the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen, and I swear my dick twitches in my pants. I nod and make a beeline for my room.

After a long shower, I decide I need a drink. I grab a bottle of whiskey from the minibar but upon realizing I have no ice, I sigh and pull on some sweatpants over my boxers, grab the ice bucket, and go on a search of the ice machine.

On the way there, I pass a little lounge with a couch and some chairs, and something catches my peripheral vision. I pause, stepping backward, and when I look inside the lounge, I see Presley sitting on the couch. She’s changed, and her hair is up in a messy bun. She wears sweats and a cropped tank top, showing off some of that toned, tan stomach. She holds a book in her hands but she looks up when she sees me. “Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say, stepping into the room. “What are you doing in here?”

She shrugs and places a bookmark in her book before setting it aside. “Slim is taking care of Cash and I can’t with the vomit.” She shudders.

I frown. “It’s almost four AM,” I tell her.

“I know,” she mutters, and stifles a yawn behind her hand.

I study her and shift on my feet. Don’t do it, Colson. Don’t do — “You can come stay in my room.” Nice, idiot.

Presley blinks those gorgeous eyes and her lips part. “Oh,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s not fair to you, I—”

“Nah, it’s no big deal,” I assure her. “I’ll sleep on the floor or the couch or something.”

“You’re, like, 12 feet tall,” she says, and I laugh. She smiles a little but then it fades. “Seriously. I can’t kick you out of your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I say. “Come on. Don’t stay out here all night.”

She chews her lip for a second and then nods. “Alright. Thank you so much,” she says sincerely, getting to her feet. God, how does she look good in everything she wears? And Jesus Christ, there’s no bra under that little tank top, but there are nipple piercings. A flush breaks out on my chest and I’m glad my tattoos hide it.

I change my mind on the ice. The last thing I need is liquid courage to do something I’ll regret. I lead the way back to my room and let us in. I set down the ice bucket and turn on the TV. I can’t sit here in silence with her. “Make yourself comfortable,” I say. “Go ahead and take the bed.”

“Colson,” she says, shaking her head.

“We can both hang out on the bed and we’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later,” I say. “Deal?”

Presley nods. “Alright, deal.” She smiles softly at me and I smile back, crawling onto the bed. She takes a seat, too, and I relax slightly.

“Are you tired?” I ask.

“Honestly, not really,” she says. “Cash kinda freaked me out.”

I nod. “He’s fine. But I get it.”

She nods, too, chewing on bottom lip. She does that often, and it’s way sexier than it should be.

“Wanna smoke?” I ask, pulling a blunt from behind my ear.

She looks over at me and nods. “Yeah, actually. Do we need to go outside?”

“Probably,” I say. “But, eh.”

Presley giggles and curls her legs beneath her, turning to face me. “I’ll try not to get ashes on the bed.”

“You do then you’re footing the bill,” I tease, and when she sees that I’m being playful, she snickers, shaking her head. I light the blunt and inhale the sweet taste of the wrap, then hand it to her, depositing the blunt between her thin fingers. “So, you’re a piercer. You play in a band. What else is there to know about Presley Carver?”

She smiles and takes a hit of the blunt, leaning her head back to exhale the smoke. She hands the blunt back to me and shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I’m not that interesting.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I challenge her, and for some reason, there’s now tension in the room. I wonder if she feels it, too.

She grins and wets her lips, resting her head back against the headboard. Her eyes close. “I’m actually pretty boring. I like to be home.”

“You don’t go out?” I ask.

“Not really.”

“So, you play shows and you go to work. Don’t you hang out with friends? A boyfriend?” I shouldn’t add that last part on, but I do. Cash already told me she doesn’t really date. But I need to know more about her. I don’t even know why.

She snorts, opening her eyes to look over at me. “Hasn’t Cash told you? I’m chronically single,” she says.

I grin a little. “Me too.”

“Why?” She asks, and then she looks a little surprised that she did. I pass her the blunt.

My smile falls a little. I’m not going to tell her the real reason, even though she feels like someone I can trust, someone who won’t judge me. “It’s just easier with my career,” I say, half-true. It is difficult to be in a relationship when I’m never in the same city for more than two nights.

“That makes sense,” she says quietly.

“What about you?” I ask. “Why are you chronically single?” I need to put the blunt down. It’s making it too easy to be truthful and open, and that was the whole point of changing my mind about drinking the whiskey. But I put it between my lips again.

Presley shrugs and her eyes drift away from mine. “Honestly, I have issues,” she says.

“Don’t we all,” I snort, and this makes her laugh.

“Yeah. I guess so,” she agrees. “Just easier to be alone. Safer.” She twists the ring on her pointer finger.

“Agreed,” I mutter. She has no idea just how much I fucking agree. “That’s why I just sleep around.” Presley laughs softly, but her cheeks get pink. I cringe a little. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” she says, her hand falling onto my arm. I’m surprised by the touch. Her hand is warm, and her long nails graze my skin, making me shiver a little. “I’m not judging, I promise.” Her jade colored eyes meet mine and there’s a sincerity in them that pierces through me.

“It’s okay if you are. Everyone else does,” I say. I’m not sure why this is all pouring out of me right now, but I can’t stop it. I’m sure I’ll regret it tomorrow.

Presley looks sad, her brows drawing together. “No one gets to judge you,” she says. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. As long as it’s consensual, then it’s totally fine.”

I blink. “Really? Most people just think I’m a man whore.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” She shoots back.

I slump a little, looking off into the distance as I consider this. She’s not wrong. It’s always consensual. Could I be a little more respectful to the women I fuck? Probably. Deep down I know I’m doing it to cope with big feelings, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I guess nothing,” I say finally. “Casual sex serves its purpose.” Presley nods, but she looks a little stiff. It’s a weird reaction after what she just said to me. “Hey,” I say, and she looks at me. “I’m not judging either, if you do the same thing.”

Presley laughs at that, and I’m taken aback. “Sorry,” she says, blushing a little. “I just…I don’t. Do that.”

“No?” I ask, still confused by her reaction.

She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something but then she clamps her mouth shut. “Yeah. Um. I think I might get some sleep.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say. I put her reaction in the back of my mind to explore later. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, Colson, it’s fine. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she insists.

“Just sleep in the bed. With me,” I blurt. She looks over at me. “I’ll stay on my side. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Of course,” I tell her. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

“Yeah. That’s fine,” she says slowly.

I nod. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and stuff,” I tell her, getting up. She nods and I go into the bathroom. When I come back, she’s under the covers, all the way at the edge of the bed. I bite back a grin and climb into bed, staying on my side, too. I switch off the lamp.

As attracted to her as I am, it won’t be hard not to touch her. I respect her too much to want to use her like that. As tempting as it would be to do some bad, bad things with her, I promised Cash I wouldn’t, and Presley is worth more than that.

She’s complex. That much I can tell. I want to know her so badly, to figure out her secrets and learn her personality. It’s the first time I’ve felt anything close to this since what happened. I didn’t know I could want anything other than sex with a woman again. It scares me, and because of that, I need to stay far, far away from anything with her. Not even just because of Cash, but for my own good.

Because when I get too close to someone, when I actually admit feelings, I get hurt. Badly.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to sleep in.

I wake up slowly, all of my senses fading in at a lazy pace. Before my eyes are even open, I can tell I’m not sleeping alone. No, definitely not alone.

I pry my eyes open and my temples throb slightly from how much weed I smoked last night. I blink a few times and shift slightly, and that’s when I really notice my current situation.

Somehow, at some point, Presley and I found our way to the middle of the bed. So much for staying on our own sides. Not only did we gravitate towards each other, but somehow, she ended up halfway on top of me, her leg draped over my hips and her head and hand on my chest.

I look at her face, and Jesus, she is breathtaking. She breathes slowly, looking incredibly peaceful asleep on my chest. Her hair is messy, falling out of its bun, but she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I frown a little, wondering if she’ll be embarrassed when she wakes up.

I definitely need to piss and brush my teeth, but there’s no way in hell I’m moving when this is probably the closest I’ll ever be to her. I relax into the bed and hug her a little closer, gently, not wanting to wake her.

I must fall asleep again because I’m drawn back to consciousness when Presley moves. I blink my eyes open slowly and look down at her as she stretches. She freezes when she realizes she’s on top of me and I close my eyes, pretending I’m asleep. I can feel her head shift as she looks up at me, and I’m surprised when she doesn’t immediately pull away. After a few moments, I slowly open my eyes to find her looking at me. She blushes and smiles sheepishly, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Hey,” she says sleepily.

“Hey,” I croak. Fuck, my throat is dry. She rolls off of me then, and I’m cold in her absence. I want her back immediately. We fit together like fucking puzzle pieces and I can’t deny that.

“Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“Me neither,” I say. “I’m sorry, too.”

“No, don’t be,” she says, laying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”

“Shit. Me neither,” I realize. Usually, it takes forever to fall asleep and I toss and turn. I haven’t slept that deeply in longer than I can remember.

“Thanks again for letting me stay here,” she says, looking over at me with sleepy eyes. My heart softens. Fuck.

“It’s no problem,” I assure her.

She sighs and stretches, back arching slightly. It’s impossible not to stare at her tits as they reach towards the ceiling as her back bows. I didn’t have morning wood but I definitely do now.

“I should go check on Cash,” she says, slowly rolling out of bed.

“Yeah. Probably,” I say, although all I want is for her to stay right here with me. All damn day.

She scoops her phone and book off the nightstand and slips back into her sandals. “Thanks again, Colson. I really appreciate it,” she says, smiling.

“Yeah. Of course,” I say. “I’ll see you later?”

“See ya,” she says, and leaves the room.

I roll onto my back and groan loudly, sliding my hands over my face. Fuck, why is this happening? I don’t even know who the fuck I am, experiencing feelings like this. I need to get them in check, and quick.

But first…I need to get this boner in check.

Shit.

#machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk x ofc #colson baker x ofc #colson x ofc

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the-al-chemist · 5 months

Text

The Lights That Never Go Out

Chapter 6: Come And Get It

A/N: I am unabashedly a massive fan of Phlegm Fleur, and I was so happy to have a reason to include her in this story. That being said, I was not prepared for how much fun it would be to write dialogue between her and Charlie. This (admittedly loosely) follows the prompt ‘Blue Christmas’ for @thethreebroomsticksfic’s Yule Bash.

17th December, 1998

It was morning. Outside, the sky was the palest shade of blue imaginable, so pale it was almost white, and the sunlight was bright and cool as it flooded through the windows of Charlie’s brother’s marital home.

In the kitchen, Bill and Fleur Weasley were the picture of matrimonial happiness, sharing quiet jokes and chaste kisses as they prepared breakfast together. Charlie would normally have offered to help out, but he felt as if in doing so, he would be getting in their way. Instead, he had taken a seat at the table and tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

“Will you two get a room?”

Charlie turned in his chair at the sound of Artemis’ voice. She walked into the kitchen with her eyes on Bill and Fleur, scowling slightly. Bill removed his hands from his wife’s waist and leaned on the countertop.

“It’s our house, this is our room,” he told Artemis with a smirk. “The question is, will you ever pay us rent?”

Artemis pulled a face at Bill and went to take a seat. Clearly, Charlie had been doing a better job of being inconspicuous than he realised, because it was only then that Artemis appeared to notice him. She visibly stiffened, and her lips tightened to a thin line.

“Good morning,” she said. There was a forced breeziness to her voice. Charlie inclined his head.

“Morning.”

He reached up to the window behind him and pushed it open, earning himself a quizzical look from Bill. Charlie nodded his head in Artemis’ direction and shrugged, and his brother pulled the sleeves of his jumper down his forearms. Fleur said nothing, but she tightened her dressing robe around herself as she made her way to the table, four plates of eggs benedict floating through the air in her wake. When Artemis looked from Charlie to the open window and back again, he offered her a small smile. She did not return it.

Charlie couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He’d hoped that their argument would have been forgotten about after they’d both had a day to calm down, but apparently that had been wishful thinking on his part. With the way Artemis had flown off the handle the night before last, he shouldn’t have been surprised that she still needed to cool off, that she would still be cool towards him.

He could barely remember the last time they’d fallen out, it was so long ago. Nine years ago, give or take. Their sixth year at Hogwarts, the year that everything changed, the year that Rowan died. Charlie felt a pang of guilt. He should not have mentioned the idea of losing a best friend to Artemis, as real as the possibility was, as much as that possibility terrified him. If it weren’t for that fear, he would have been content in that moment to have said nothing at all, to have allowed her to kiss him and to kiss her back, and to follow her wherever she led him. A part of him wished he had done just that, but he knew that putting a stop to it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t risk losing her, and even more than that, he couldn’t risk her losing him. After Rowan and Tonks, she wouldn’t be able to cope without him and his family as well. It was better this way. No, they weren’t talking right now, but they would. Everything would be alright again, once Artemis had gotten over it. He only wished he knew when that would be.

“I won’t need to pay you any rent for much longer,” Artemis told Bill as she tucked into her breakfast. “Once I start work I’ll be moving out.”

“Good riddance.” Bill laughed. He used his wand to pour himself a glass of orange juice as Artemis rolled her eyes. “Dare I ask where you’re going? Please don’t tell me you’re moving to Cardiff with some bloke you broke up with six months ago. I don't think any of us can cope with that drama again.”

As surreptitiously as he could, Charlie reached over to pick up the jug of juice that had been floating in the air beside Bill. This was a conversation he did not want to get involved in.

“No, I was thinking of going back to the Three Broomsticks for a bit. I’ll have to check with Rosmerta first, but I can ask her while I’m there for Christmas.”

Charlie’s glass was still half-empty, but he stopped pouring.

“I thought you were coming with us to Mum and Dad’s for Christmas,” he said, before he could stop himself.

In twelve years, he had spent one Christmas without Artemis, the one just gone. It had been the worst Christmas of his life, even worse than the one immediately following Rowan’s death, or the one he had spent in the knowledge that his father was lying in a hospital bed hundreds of miles away from him. This coming Christmas was going to present its own challenges, but he had assumed that he’d be facing them with Artemis at his side. He wasn’t certain that he could get through it without her. And what about her? If she wasn’t coming…

“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you?” Artemis’ voice was sharp, but when Bill and Fleur looked at her, she became breezy again. “I just think it’s better if I’m not there this year. Y’know, because of Fred.”

She was lying. Charlie would have been able to tell that she was lying, even if he hadn’t known the real reason for her sudden change of heart. He lowered his head so that Bill and Fleur wouldn’t see the look on his face. This was exactly the sort of thing he had wanted to avoid.

“You’re still more than welcome to come to our family’s for Christmas,” said Bill. “If anything, Mum might be glad to have more company. It’ll be less quiet that way.”

Artemis made a non-committal noise and put a forkful of egg into her mouth.

“Ros needs someone capable to help her behind the bar,” she said through her food. Bill frowned at her.

“You have egg on your face.”

At Bill’s comment, Artemis swallowed and used her hand to wipe a spot of yolk from her chin. She looked at her palm for a moment, then licked it.

“Really?” Bill blinked at her. His eyes flicked towards Charlie momentarily, so he wasn’t sure who his brother was addressing when he asked: “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” Artemis asked. She pushed herself away from the table. “Whatever, I’m finished. Thanks for making me breakfast.”

“Thanks for putting me off mine.”

In response, Artemis narrowed her eyes at Bill, picked up her empty plate, and licked it, before placing it back down on the table and leaving the kitchen entirely. Bill shook his head as he watched her leave.

“Over two billion women in this world, Charlie, and that is what does it for you,” he muttered, once she was out of earshot. He sighed and rose from his chair. “I’d better get to work. Love you.”

Bill kissed Fleur on the cheek before he left her alone with Charlie. Charlie cleared his throat.

“I guess there’s probably no way that you didn’t hear him say that, is there?” he asked. “Because it’s not… That’s not what it is. And whatever Bill has told you—”

“‘Ow do you know zat Bill ‘as told me anything?”

Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Has he not told you anything?”

“No, ‘e ‘as.” Fleur’s sea-blue eyes glittered over the top of her cup as she took a sip of coffee. “‘E told me everything, in fact.”

“Great. That’s just great.”

Charlie exhaled loudly, but he struggled to feel annoyed. Fleur looked so amused that he struggled not to smile. He placed his head into his hands and laughed at his own expense.

“I mean it, though. The way Bill will have said it, it won’t be right. He doesn’t get it.”

“No, I suppose ‘e wouldn’t.”

“It’s not about anything ‘doing it’ for me, it’s not anything to do with… She’s my best friend, y’know? That’s what it is. He doesn’t understand that.” Charlie shrugged. “I’m not sure if anyone does. The more I hear people speak about this sort of thing, the more I feel like I am a bit different when it comes to this.”

Fleur put down her mug. She nodded, slowly and thoughtfully.

“Yes, I zink so,” she said.

“You’re really good at making people feel better, has anyone ever told you that?”

“I am not trying to make you feel better, I am just saying ‘ow it is,” Fleur told him. “Because of my grandmuzzer, most people react when zey first get to know me. Either zey are drawn towards me, or it is like zey are angered by me. You ‘ave noticed zat, no?”

Of course Charlie had noticed the effect Fleur had on people. How could he not have? He nodded his head.

“But you do not understand zis,” said Fleur. It was a statement, not a question. “Some people don’t react. I can always tell when zey don’t.”

“Why don’t they?”

“I suppose because zey are just a bit different. Did you meet my parents at our wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“In zat case, you must ‘ave seen that my muzzer is much better looking zan Papa,” Fleur said. Charlie wasn’t sure how to respond. “It is true. When I was young, people used to say it all the time. Zey used to make jokes about it.”

Charlie could imagine the jokes. He didn’t need to imagine them, his brothers had made them at the wedding.

“Once, I asked ‘er why she loved ‘im, when zere were so many more ‘andsome wizards she could ‘ave loved. And she said zat she ‘ad never noticed zem. She said zat for some people, love comes in by the eyes, but it never ‘ad for ‘er. For ‘er, it was because of everything else zat she fell in love, and it was only zen zat it got to ‘er eyes.”

“That makes sense.”

Fleur smiled. “I was zinking it might. It never made sense to me until Bill got attacked, but now I understand it, too. I’d like to zink zat if it ‘ad been me, zat Bill would ‘ave understood it, but…”

“He would,” Charlie tried to assure her, but she did not appear to need any reassurance at all.

“Per’aps. Per’aps not. It does not matter now, does it?” She waved a dismissive hand. “What I am saying is, I zink zat you are like my muzzer.”

“Only not quite as good looking.”

“Well, no. Obviously not.”

Charlie was too tickled by the bluntness of her response to even be remotely offended by it. He chuckled, before raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“I should go and talk to her. Artemis, I mean, not your mum.”

He found Artemis in her room, the door to which she had left open. He knocked on it anyway.

“Is it alright if I come in?” he asked. Artemis glowered at him for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. Charlie took that as an affirmative response. “Thanks.”

He hesitated by the door. Fleur was still around, and he would have preferred to have this conversation in private, but he knew that no good would come from him closing it completely. He left it slightly ajar and joined Artemis on the bed.

“What do you want?” she said.

There were many things that Charlie wanted. He started with the simplest thing.

“I want you to come to Mum’s for Christmas. Please. It’ll be rubbish without you. You should come.”

“Really?” Artemis muttered. “Because I wouldn’t have thought you’d want me there, seeing as I don’t really care that much.”

Charlie just about managed to stop himself from sighing.

“Yeah, alright. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you care. I’m sorry. For that and for the whole ‘losing a friend’ thing. I honestly wasn’t talking about Rowan. I wasn’t even thinking about Rowan, if I had thought about it, then I’d never…” He paused. “But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Well, I didn’t think about what I was saying and what that meant, and so I ended up hurting you. You see?”

Artemis said nothing, just stared at Charlie with her lips pursed.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, honestly, but I definitely don’t want to be the one who hurts you,” Charlie explained. “And I know you don’t want to be the one who hurts me, either. I mean, do you?”

It felt like an age before Artemis answered, “No.”

“That’s a relief.” Charlie was only half-joking, but Artemis’ lips twitched anyway. “So, you get it, right? Why I was asking you to think before—”

“Did you think before you kissed me?” asked Artemis. “About what might happen after?”

“I thought one of us or both of us might die after. I didn’t really have the time to think much past that, I’m afraid.”

It was true, in a way. Over the years, Charlie had spent a lot of time thinking about what might happen after, but that night at the battle, he hadn’t thought at all.

“It’s different now, though,” he said. “There’s all the time in the world. That’s why it’s better to take some time to think about this, isn’t it?”

Artemis was silent. Her front teeth grazed her bottom lip, her eyes stared at her hands in her lap. When she finally lifted her gaze to look at Charlie, he could see that they were filled with such deep apprehension that it bordered on fear.

“No,” she said, with a little shake of her head. “I don’t want to do that.”

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. “Alright.”

“It’s not…”

“No, I know. I get it,” Charlie told her. “Really, it’s alright.” He meant it. He understood that fear. He had felt it himself. “Still friends?”

“Of course.” Artemis gave him the smallest hint of a smile. “Still friends.”

For a moment, Charlie considered hugging her, but it felt almost inappropriate to do so now. Instead, he held out his hand for her to shake, a decision he immediately regretted. As Artemis’ sceptical eyes travelled slowly from his face to his hand, his insides curdled with embarrassment.

After an excruciating few seconds, she shook his hand. Once she had let go, he rubbed his fingertips against his own palm. It felt distinctly empty without hers pressed against it. And, maybe it was the open bedroom window, but the air between them felt distinctly colder than he could remember it ever being.

Neither of them spoke. For the first time in years, Charlie wasn’t sure what he should say to Artemis. They were still friends, but the stillness between them had never been this stiff before, their companionable silence so uncomfortable.

Something had changed, somehow. It didn’t matter that Charlie had been trying to do the right thing, something had gone wrong, or had just gone. He didn’t know where it had gone, or how, it just had.

Worst of all, he didn’t even know if he’d ever get it back again.

#artemis hexley #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x oc #hpff #harry potter fanfiction #hphm fic #the lights that never go out #bill weasley #fleur delacour

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