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dienamights · 3 years

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Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s): Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.”

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to-

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?”

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now.

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her.

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week.

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No! He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.”

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario.

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,”

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-”

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.”

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight.

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it.

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?”

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high.

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly.

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you.

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed.

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

Borrowers (taglist):

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

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marie-in-the-hallway · 3 years

Text

Watermelon Sugar pt 1

wc: 2.3k

warnings: minor sexual content, swearing

...

Jenna doesn't know how her life came to be like this.

She was a good person; she had partied hard in uni, yes, but she studied hard enough to make up for it. She's nice enough to leave at least a twenty percent tip every time she gets the check, and certainly nice enough to drop coins in the tip jars of the baristas who make her coffee. She calls her mum a lot and she loves her sisters and she takes good care of her plant, a cactus she'd named Steve. She’s hilarious and witty, her friends love her, and she makes a decent enough living.

So it doesn't explain why she's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of her.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. One right now, in fact: Camille Rowe. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Jenna’s sex dreams since she was about eighteen.

(What can she say, she's consistent. The kid might change her look every few years but the libido wants what it wants. Or something.)

Anyway, the point is that, currently, Jenna is looking straight into Harry's gorgeous green eyes and she can feel the heat of Harry's body radiating onto hers. She can also feel one of Harry's soft curls brushing against her forehead, and she knows that if she looked down, she'd see Harry's pink lips, quirked amusedly, like Jenna is something of a particularly endearing animal.

In summary, Harry looks like something straight out of Jenna’s masterbating vault, and Jenna is especially thankful at this moment that she does not have a cock because it would be hard as a rod at this very moment.

"Do you, uh, work out a lot?" She blurts out, her mouth temporarily disconnecting from her brain, and she watches as Harry blinks, his long lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbones.

There's a pause, and then she hears a snort.

"Is this a dating show, mate?" Nick Grimshaw, the twat, says, half-laughing from his seat at the radio console. He raises his voice in a poor imitation of Jenna, stuttering out a ‘do you, uh, work out a lot’ in between his giggles.

Jenna turns her head to look at him and scowls. "Shut up," she says, trying to ignore the cute way Harry is giggling on top of her. It doesn't really work, but at least she tried.

Nick raises his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm bringing us back on track. You're supposed to be asking him questions about his new album, not asking him if he works out. You're tiring out the little pop star there."

"Nah," Jenna hears Harry's low voice drawl from above her, and she turns her attention back to the hot boy on top of him. "`m not tired yet. Besides, I'm kind of enjoying the view." He shoots Jenna a cheeky wink, and Jenna feels her face flush.

"Okay," she says loudly, mostly for the benefit of herself. She vaguely wonders how red she looks on camera, and whether or not she can get the ground to swallow her whole right about now. Maybe she should retire after this. Radio 1 would just have to look for another person who won't choke in the vicinity of Nick's hairspray fumes.

Every day at one to four pm, Nick and Jenna host "The Future is Now", a radio programme where they play music, talk about celebrity gossip and tease each other. It's supposedly nothing special, just two childhood friends making fun of each other and making fun of celebrities and their drama and occasionally talking about football, but apparently their banter has made it the most popular rated programme on BBC Radio 1. So popular that a few months ago, their producer sat them down and told them to "come up with more shenanigans", an order Jenna was happy to comply with. Her and Nick have then proceeded to do almost everything, from innuendo bingo with a twist to organizing a huge water fight in Radio 1.

Their latest shenanigan is interviewing their celebrity guests in the weirdest way they can, and last time Nick had interviewed Taylor Swift through trying to interpret her answers through drawing. It was massively funny, a huge failure, and also very exhausting, according to Nick, because who knew that Taylor was such a terrible artist?

Which is also why it's Jenna’s turn to do the interviewing this time.

However, she's ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Nick did this on purpose. Drunk Jenna might have let it slip a few weeks back that she has a not-so-small crush on a certain very famous Harry Styles, and Nick, because he was apparently close friends with Harry, invited him to plank over Jenna.

Jenna’s going to light a match near his hair and watch his twatty quiff burn down.

"Okay," Jenna says again, because no matter how much she wants to go back in time and ensure Nick was never born, Harry Styles with his hair and his dimples is still above her, smiling like it takes no effort to plank like this at all. He's the most attractive man Jenna has ever seen in her entire life. "We're going to have a quickie--" and she resolutely ignores Nick's sniggers from the console and the way his face heats up, "--which is like a lightning round of questions, until you feel you need to lower yourself down or until the timer runs out. Alright?"

Harry nods at her, grinning even wider, and Jenna decides to pin her focus on Harry's left dimple so as not to be distracted by the rest of his face.

"Nachos or Tacos?" She asks, starting the game immediately.

"Tacos."

"Red or Blue?"

"Blue."

"Favorite emoji to use in a text message?"

"The tongue and the peach." Jenna ignores the almost-obscene way Harry says it. She also ignores Nick's snorts from the table. She can do this. She just needs to ignore the way she’s wet from this small interaction and get this done like the professional she is, before she can go home and masterbate herself away to oblivion.

"Favorite song from your new album?"

"Um," Harry says, and Jenna feels his forearms shift from where it's beside her head. "Watermelon Sugar?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Jenna asks Harry's left dimple. See, she can be normal.

"Watermelon Sugar." Harry repeats, much firmer. "It's about oral sex."

Jenna’s eyes fly off Harry's left dimple and into his eyes. "I don't think you can say that on radio."

Harry just shrugs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Sorry."

"Cheeky," Jenna mutters, before plunging on. "Most important feature of your ideal girlfriend?"

"I don't know if I can say it on radio," Harry shoots back almost immediately, his smile widening.

Somewhere from his place on the radio console, Nick cackles. Jenna hopes he chokes on his own saliva.

"Something radio friendly, then," Jenna answers, keeping her voice level.

"Well," Harry drawls out, seemingly lost in thought, "I'm much more of a bum kind of guy," and Nick's cackles get louder and louder. "I like a nice, firm, handful of bum. But if it has to be radio friendly, maybe the smile."

"I'm going to get suspended because of you," Jenna deadpans.

"`s the truth." Harry smiles innocently. He shifts on his forearms again, and his long curl brushes over Jenna’s eye. His cross necklace also falls out of his shirt, brushing against the hollow of Jenna’s throat. "Do you like bums, Jenna?"

"I like mums? I like my mum," Jenna says absently, half blinded by Harry's curl. She feels more than hears Harry laugh from above her, his abs quivering from above her body. Which, hey. Why is Harry laughing at her? She’s just trying to keep this show together, for the sake of her job and her listeners and because Nick is a useless idiot.

She clears her throat. "Ideal date?" She asks, blinking her eye against Harry's rogue curl. She focuses on it, tries to get it off her eye with just the power of her blinks and her eye lid muscles. It doesn't really work.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows above her, and Jenna feels a slight sense of dread settle against him.

"A walk on the beach, then a candlelit dinner, then back to my place--"

"Favorite hobby?" Jenna interrupts, because she cannot do this. She can't. She’s two innuendos away from being soaked through her pants, and she’s positive there will be a wet spot if Harry continues to imply vaguely sexual things.

"I like to bake," Harry answers easily, as if he wasn't on the verge of saying obscene things a few seconds before. Jenna hates him. Jenna also kind of wants to suck his dick.

"Last thing that made you cry?"

"Um," Harry furrows his brow and bites at his bottom lip. Jenna can't stop staring. "I...fell?"

"Fell where?" Jenna asks.

"I was getting out of the shower," Harry answers slowly, still seeming deep in thought. Jenna tries not to imagine a naked Harry, with little droplets sliding down his skin. She mostly fails. "Then I, like, slipped and fell. There were a few tears."

Jenna makes a noise of sympathy, her eyes glued to Harry's lips. "What did you hurt?"

"My bum."

That makes Jenna tear her eyes away from Harry's lips and into his green eyes, which are already shining with mirth. "What is it with you and bums?"

"I told you, I'm a bum man." Harry winks. He shifts on his forearms, and Jenna realizes that the planking must already be taking a toll on him. He doesn't seem close to giving up though, and Jenna admires his determination. Her sex drive admires the rippling of the muscles in Harry's forearms and the strength of his core.

"You seem to be a little bum crazy to me."

"Heyyy," Harry says, a cute little pout making its way onto his face. "Only for certain bums. The nice ones."

Jenna doesn't answer. "Favorite app on your phone?"

"Instagram."

"Last photo you took?"

"It was, like, a photo of my sister's dog in, um, space buns."

"Space bums, nice," Jenna says, because she can. She might get suspended from radio for a few days, but she's already aroused on camera and they've been talking bums since a while ago, so.

"Yep," Harry says, playing along. "They were out of this world."

Jenna opens her mouth to ask another question when her phone starts ringing, signalling the end of their quickie. Harry unceremoniously drops himself down, his entire body now in contact with Jenna’s own. Jenna can feel her skin heat up from where Harry's touching her, their entire lower half aligned. She shifts in surprise, discovering Harry’s (not so) little problem, so Jenna just. Speaks.

“Did you know the average whale penis is ten feet long?”

She wonders if she can probably retire gracefully and run away to Guam.

Nick is still cackling like a madman but ten times harder. Jenna doesn't think he's even stopped to take a breath since he started.

Good, she thinks viciously. Maybe he'll run out of oxygen.

"I did not," she hears Harry whisper to her, his voice almost drowned out by Nick's laughter.

"Fuck," Jenna whispers, without opening her eyes. "Leave me here to die." She can't believe she ended up here, embarrassed and horny in front of the guy she's been wanking to since she was eighteen. She doesn't think life can get much worse than this.

"It's okay, you know, I blurt out things all the time" Harry whispers, his breath ghosting over Jenna’s face. "Also, you're not allowed to say ‘cock’ on radio."

Oh, so now he's concerned about radio content. What is Harry Styles.

"Please do not try to make me feel better about this," Jenna says through her teeth, ignoring his second statement. They're going to get taken off air because of this interview, anyway. She raises an arm to cover her eyes. "Just....ignore it. Please."

Harry, because he's nice, doesn't say anything anymore, instead pulls himself off of Jenna, so that he's sitting on his knees beside Jenna on the carpeted floor. Jenna takes three deep breaths before she opens her eyes, sits up, and runs to the radio console, where Nick is still cackling obnoxiously. She lets Nick take care of the goodbyes, shakes Harry's hand once and refuses to meet his eyes, and doesn't say anything until Harry has left the room and Watermelon Sugar is playing on air.

"So?" Nick hedges, nudging Louis with an elbow. "That was fun right?"

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep," Jenna answers, glaring. "That was fucking humiliating."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Nick says, dismissively, wrapping an arm around Jenna’s shoulder. Jenna wants to saw it off his arm.

"You're not the one who started talking about whale cock in front of like, three cameras," Jenna hisses back at him.

"You could barely hear it anyway," Nick says, rolling his eyes. He pinches Jenna’s shoulder, waggling his eyebrows . "But Harry, eh? That was some intense flirting you had going on there."

"Nick," Jenna says, deadpan. "He's not single. You should know this, he's one of your best friends."

Nick frowns, but before he can open his mouth to say something, Jenna beats him to it. "Never mind him. He's probably going to get us suspended anyway, with all his obscene answers and talk about bums."

Nick cackles again, with his head thrown back. "That was pretty funny."

"Yeah, well let's see how funny it is when we get taken off air for a week straight," Jenna answers, rolling her eyes, before reaching over to queue up the next song.

Nick, the twat, just keeps laughing.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #watermelon sugar

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lunamarasblog · 3 years

Text

I am a failure.

I've tried to kill myself and failed again.

I have lost everything now.

I'll try again one day. I am worthless and I don't deserve to be alive.

I'll never know what is to love or be loved by someone.

I am so alone

What did I do to deserve this fate? Why I was destined to suffer like this? I was only 16 when I was raped. I was only 16 when a 30 y/o abused me.

I still hear his words in my head every day

"I'm gonna break you and leave you scarred for the rest of your life. You are a filthy and disgusting abomination and you will be tainted for questioning God's laws and commandments. No one will ever want you, they will see the filth and the little monster you are"

He raped me for hours. I dunno how many times. I was still wearing my school uniform.

He beated me in the abdomen several times, choked me and bite me in the legs. He said that he would brand me so I knew that i belonged to him and him alone. When he finished he just dumped me on the side of a road and left like nothing happened.

I never saw him again.

I couldn't say anything to anyone. Who would've believed me? Who cares about a fat ugly poor brown girl?

I tried to wash my body the best I could. I swore never to reveal what had happened to me, and I did. I only have the courage to write it here because no one knows me here, and my life is gonna end soon, so i have nothing to lose anymore. I endured the heavy pain in my belly and throat for almost four months. I could only rely on some painkillers that I stole from the school infirmary.

And he was right. I am an abomination. I have no beauty. My body is fat. My hair and eyes are black. My skin isn't fair. I fill no beauty standards. I am old.

Funny that now I have the same age my rapist had when he destroyed the little hope i had to wish for a future.

There's no more chances for me. I don't have any money, career or even friends that I could count on. I barely leave my house.

All I wanted is to be loved. All I wanted is to meet a person that would embrace me and tells me that I am loved, no matter how ugly i am or how disgusting i look.

All I wanted is to be loved like the characters of the fanfictions I read.

Reading them hurt me so much. It pains me to see love conquering everything, and it makes me jealous. But at the same time, it's like a drug. I feel happy to see characters I love to be happy.

For mere seconds, reading makes me smile, but after that... I can't stop crying. I am envious. I become gloomy and sad days after reading a new chapter because i wish i could have that. Why can't I have that? Why? WHY???

Why can't anyone look at me without laughing or telling me that I'm a disgusting pig? Am I really that hideous?

I am just a human being. Why do people enjoy hurting me?

The only guy I tried to have a relationship with, ended up cheating on me after only 2 months of being together. I couldn't have sex with him. I can't even now. I can't stand to be touched, not even by my mom.

He was my classmate at uni, and after he dumped me, started to mock me with his friends.

I remember every word they said.

"how could you have been with that thing?" They asked him

"if you wanted to fuck something so easy, just find a pig and do it, that's even better than fucking a blob like that" they said out loud, knowing i was sitting three rows ahead in class.

They kept laughing at me, putting me names, degrading me every day.

I dropped out from uni because of it the very next day. Never came back.

That's why I've decided that when I'll finally die, I'll go some place far away, and let my body rot.

I don't deserve a funeral, I don't deserve a tomb. I am a monster and monsters don't get to be remembered. An abomination like me is not worthy of anything.

I am so alone

I am so scared

I am so hurt

I just wanted love. I just wanted to love and be loved.

I just wanted my own knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet and take me away. Maybe to make a family together, or even just the 2 of us.

Now it's too late to have all that.

Well, it was always too late.

No one would want a broken mess. No one wants to be with someone ugly. I have nothing to offer. Never had.

Why me?

Why couldn't I have a chance?

What did I do wrong?

Why I deserved to be raped, beaten and bullied?

Why was I born ugly? Why couldn't i have at least pretty light eyes? At least something for people to see beauty. To have a fighting chance...

I have no will to live anymore. I only feel pain. I cry every night, and I have to wear a mask by day. I don't want my mother to see how broken i am. She needs to believe that I'm improving and faking it is the only way of not hurting her. But it's consuming me more and more... It's like a worm digging in my heart, biting and biting until one day there will be nothing left to consume.

I can't...

It's hurting so bad

I want this to end

Please, let it end.

Someone have mercy on me and end my life please. Someone shoot the monster. All monsters deserve to die.

Please

End the pain

Please

I don't want to suffer anymore.

#suicide #end the pain #i am a monster #i am alone #i am so tired #i am so sorry #i am broken #hurt #pain #rape victim

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firelord-zuzu-the-jerkbender · 4 years

Text

One of the things I love about Iroh teaching Zuko how to redirect lightning is that Iroh accepted Zuko's limitations instead of trying to push him too far.

It's clear Zuko isn't a firebending prodigy, and instead of expecting him to become one, and expecting him to keep trying even though it was harming him and making him frustrated with himself, Iroh accepts that Zuko can't do it, and pushing him to do it and telling him that he can do it would only pressure him further to live up to expectations he knew he couldn't reach, which would lead to Zuko constantly pressuring and belittling himself. Iroh accepts that Zuko can't create lightening, but seems to understand that giving up on Zuko or asking Zuko to give up trying would make him feel more like he'd failed, useless.

So Iroh tries a different approach, and takes the time to teach him something else instead to do with lightening that is easier for Zuko to practice and use- because Zuko doesn't have to make lightning himself. As someone who was always pushed beyond my capabilities, and constantly told to try harder when I struggled instead of people accepting it was too much for me (I reached burnout point and had to drop out of uni), seeing Iroh accept that Zuko wasn't able to create lightening and instead spending time with him to work on a different technique to do with lightening really felt good to see.

Instead of pushing Zuko beyond what he could handle, he tried a different approach, and found something that Zuko was capable of. Instead of Zuko pushing himself beyond his limits, mentally chastising himself for not being good enough and physically harming himself in the process of learning to create lightening, Zuko is encouraged to improve within his capabilities, and not only that, but Iroh teaches him something defensive, a way to defend himself and deflect an attack back to those trying to hurt him.

Iroh pushes Zuko to be better without pushing him beyond his capabilities. Pushing him beyond his capabilities would be setting him up to fail, and it would take its toll, but helping him to grow by accepting his limitations and working with those limitations instead of against them is what sets Zuko on the right path to improving his firebending.

When you push somebody beyond their limitations, they either don't manage to reach the standards expected of them, or they hurt themselves in the process. Either way, it pulls somebody into a toxic mindset of feeling like they're not good enough and not trying enough when they are giving more than they have to the point of destruction. When you know you can't do something, and everybody insists that you can and you just need to try harder, when you are already giving everything you have, it pushes you to burnout and failure. You either succeed and get hurt in the process, or you fail and it was all for nothing. Even if you succeed, it feels like a failure, because if all you needed was to try harder and others can do it, why wasn't your best good enough?

And that's not growth and that isn't encouraging growth.

And we know that Zuko has always been belittled and compared to others, and we see how frustrated he gets when he isn't good enough. He hunts the avatar to the point he loses himself, doesn't take care of himself, and puts himself into dangerous situations because his honour is pinned on his success or failure.

But by accepting someone's limitations and capabilities, you can help them grow and expand within those capabilities, which nurtures growth and simultaneously protects the person's health and wellbeing in the process, and Iroh takes the time to do this with patience and understanding and helps Zuko to grow as a person and encourages him to take a more healthy mindset where Zuko is more aware that he controls his own destiny and honour.

TL;DR: In order to help somebody grow, you have to work within their capabilities and expand them from the inside out, instead of pushing somebody outside of them and expecting them to win, and that is why Iroh is such a good mentor to Zuko, because he accepts Zuko's limitations and tries a different approach to learning. Iroh doesn't push him too far.

#iroh is what i wish my teachers and peers were #atla zuko #atla #atla iroh #uncle iroh #prince zuko #atla meta #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #iroh and zuko #look i just love how iroh takes good care of zuko okay #and accepts that zuko has limitations #instead of getting angry and upset and frustrated with zuko he helps him learn a different way

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bnha-dumpster · 4 years

Text

Shattering: Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | NEXT

Shattering: A TodoBakuDeku x Reader fic (more TodoBaku with hints of Deku) Plot: After losing Deku and your two best friends, you didn’t think much more could be taken away from you. You’ve never been more wrong. Word count: 2k

a/n: just finished proofreading the first chapter,,,, enjoy,,,, also i forgot how angsty this fic is??? oof

“It’s not your fault, Katsuki.” It’s rare to see the blond cry, you’ve never seen him truly cry, not like right now. You hold onto his hand tightly. With his free hand, he’s desperately trying to wipe away his tears. They still travel down his face and wet the bedding. Bakugou won’t accept his failures, they’ll eat him from the inside-out before that happens. He hates losing, knowing he’s powerless. You do too, but not with the same intensity that he has. You swear that each loss is like a bullet tearing through him. He may not let people see it, but they get to him. You can tell after knowing him for so long.

Finally, he rips his hand from your grasp and in a broken voice- “Fuck off!”

As much as you want to stay by his side, you nod and leave the room. You shut the door quietly, the click resonating in the silent hospital hallway. You find yourself wandering to the hospital room of another classmate: Todoroki. You don’t bother knocking, you just walk in. Todoroki is sitting, looking out the window of his bare room. Nothing needs to be said between the two of you. He looks at you and you can see the intense sorrow in his eyes.

“Sho-”

“I know.” There’s no room to argue or try to continue talking, not with the tone of his voice. The way he sits reminds you of the first time you met him. Todoroki was cautious and cold, though often not intentionally. Still, it’s like you’re back to that day where you tried to greet him. You turn away from him and leave his room silently. You’re left to your own thoughts now.

None of you thought something like this would happen. Midoriya had always wanted to be a hero and he was close to reaching that dream. Whatever happened, it broke something inside him. That’s what you think, at least. It’s hard to imagine any sort of scenario that would lead to this. What in the world could drive Midoriya to become a villain? It’s a question that almost certainly doesn’t have an answer.

The dorms look like nothing happened. A month ago, there was a gaping hole in the building and any evidence of it being there is gone now. Everyone that was there knows what the hole looked like. It’s not something that can be so easily forgotten.

You can remember hanging from one of the higher floors, struggling to keep your grip with your blood-soaked hand. The other was limp at your side, dangling like it was attached by a thread. Your head was pounding and yet you could hear everything going on. Students screaming, sirens, cries of Midoriya’s name. It was all so blurry, as if it was a nightmare. At the time, you couldn’t tell exactly what was happening. The loss of blood probably didn’t help either. What you can clearly remember doesn’t make you feel any better.

A familiar face with a foreign expression. Midoriya was looking down at you without any care, as if you were nothing more than a bug that was bothering him. At the time, you couldn’t make out the words he was saying, it blended in with everything else. A foot crushed the fingers of your hand and without the strength to endure anymore pain, you let out a pathetic sob, falling. The last thing you remember is watching him look down at you before disappearing.

Compared to some of the other injured students, your injuries weren’t too bad. No broken limbs- a supposed blessing. Your list of injuries included a severely dislocated shoulder accompanied by torn ligaments and damaged muscle, losing a third of your blood mass from multiple gashes caused by debris along with surgeries to remove whatever got stuck in your body, a concussion and lastly, a piece of rebar that went straight through your lower abdomen, narrowly missing your spine.

It was only recently that you were allowed to get out of bed and start walking around. Naturally, you went to check on everyone. Most of them had at least one broken bone or some serious injury. It’s a miracle that no one died. Midoriya had punched a hole through a load-bearing wall, collapsing one corner of the building.

“Are you okay to be up?” Aizawa’s voice rumbles behind you. He must have spotted you walking aimlessly in the hall.

“I was discharged earlier today. Just wanted to visit some people before heading home… I saw him, you know? Midoriya’s eyes weren’t right, not when I looked at him.” You sigh and look down at your hands. “Do we have any idea why he’d do this?”

The silence of your teacher confirms your fears. He has no idea and you doubt anyone else does. The reason behind Midoriya’s sudden switch hasn’t been found yet. It’s not likely anything will ever be found out. You clench your teeth. Midoriya’s actions have changed how you feel about your future, how everyone feels about their futures. If the world can take a kind person the way it did, what sort of message does that give for the future? You don’t know. It’s obvious when you make eye contact with Aizawa that he’s just as confused as you are. Everyone’s futures have been changed, that’s the silent agreement you make with your teacher.

And, the future really did change because of that day.

You never did become a hero. The weight of Midoriya’s gaze kept you from truly moving forward with your goal of being a hero. Shortly after everyone was well enough to resume school, physically at least, you dropped out of U.A. suddenly. The only person made aware of your choice was Aizawa, who didn’t talk about it to any of your classmates as you requested. Without any notice, your dorm room was empty and you were nowhere to be seen. There were no goodbyes, you decided to just vanish. Things had never been the same. The two people you consider yourself closest to had grown apart from you. It was as if all the time you spent with them, all the things you did together, didn’t exist at all. Things seemed easier for you to just disappear from everyone’s lives.

You haven’t seen them since. At least, in person. The most you’ve seen of any of your former classmates is on the TV or ads you see when you’re out of the house. You have a habit of buying whatever limited edition products there are if they feature any familiar faces. There’s an untouched package of limited hair dye sitting on your bathroom’s counter- a deep shade of scarlet attempting to match Kirishima’s hair. His smiling face is plastered on the package in a way that’s impossible to ignore. It’s just like the one you used to see when you were training to be a hero beside him. Of course, the product has also been quite silly to you. Anyone that knows Kirishima knows that his vibrant red hair is the result of hair dye. Other silly products are scattered around your apartment, all of them reminding you of the better days.

“Boss!” You’re snapped out of your thinking from an employee stumbling over himself, a little pale. You sigh and stand up, the boy continues, “A customer asked for you…”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Who in the hell asked you to get me?” You expect a troublesome customer of your store, one that might be mad about the price of an item. There’s always at least one person a day that argues over prices. You walk out of the small office, sighing as you make your way to the store front. A vaguely familiar form nearly makes you vomit. Green eyes catch yours and the phantom pains from those years ago flood you enough to make you hiss from pain.

“Y/N! It’s been a long time! I’m surprised you didn’t go on to be a hero!” His sweet voice is more irritating than you thought. “What happened to that spirit?”

“I lost it when you looked me dead in the eye and skewered me on a huge pole of rebar.” You do your best to keep your voice level. Right now, you want to scream, but you know better. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I suggest you leave.”

“I don’t want to. You’re the only classmate I can talk to without worrying about getting beat up! It’s been years since you’ve used your Quirk, right?”

“Midoriya…” He takes a step towards you and you instinctively take one back.

“Are you scared of me, Y/N?” Midoriya reaches out for you but before he can touch you, you’re pulled out of sleep.

Your mother is gently shaking your shoulder, waking you up. You sigh and rub your temples, thinking about how cruel of a dream you had. Glancing at the clock, you smile at your mom affectionately.

“Guess I fell asleep again, didn’t I?” She laughs at you and ruffles your hair. “Sorry, mom. These late nights are getting to me.”

“It’s alright, dear.” She pauses. “You were muttering his name again, Y/N. Are you ever going to talk to anyone about it? I think you should, it might make you feel better.”

“There’s nothing to talk about mom.” The same worried, motherly expression crosses her face for a moment before she sighs and nods. “I’ll be heading to uni, then.”

You settle into your seat in the back of the lecture room, pulling out your laptop. Being alone is your preference. It’s easier to be by yourself than it is to spend time with people you probably don’t like. But the room has a good echo and you can hear most of the conversations, no matter how hushed they are. Today, the normally hushed voices that you can barely make out are louder, far more energetic. You’re about to put your earbuds in until you hear something that makes you freeze.

“Did you hear? Ground Zero and Shouto have gone missing!”

For the first time in years, your mind goes back to the last words you had with the two. Neither conversations were good. The thought of either of them getting hurt, despite how much pain you went through when they distanced themselves from you, makes you nauseous. Being invisible to everyone is good, you’re able to sneak out of the lecture room without people noticing.

You don’t know where you’re going, not even as you knock on the door of the Bakugou residence, breathing heavily. You haven’t seen Mitsuki in years, not since you left. And yet, the woman sees you and you find yourself stuck in the doorway. Not once have you ever seen Bakugou’s mother cry. She’s a strong woman. Right now though, you can tell that she’s holding back tears and you want to come in to comfort her. Tears are in the corners of her eyes. You’ve never seen Mitsuki so vulnerable-looking, so upset. She’s been angry before, but never sad, never this distraught. You’re not sure what to do, but you want to do something.

That want to help disappears the second you hear the angry voice of Kirishima. Your motivation to take a step into the house is no longer there. You haven’t seen them in years and you never said goodbye. They could be angry at you, enraged for your sudden disappearance during such a tough time. Bile rises to the back of your throat. The moment you spot Kirishima’s red hair poke out behind Mitsuki, you sputter out:

“He’s going to be okay, I know it.”

That’s all you can manage to say before you’re bolting away from the house. You hear her call your name and you know if you look behind you, there’s going to be faces you haven’t seen in years staring at you. So you run, not stopping until you’re standing in front of your apartment. Barely stumbling into your apartment, you collapse in the hallway. You kick the door of your apartment closed.

“Fuck…” For the first time in years, you choke back a sob. “Fuck- What was I thinking?”

#fic: shattering #todobakudeku x reader #angst angst angst

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

Text

No More

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

We’ve reached the season finale! However, this is not the series finale. Just thought I’d say that right here since it could be interpreted that way. I’m tired and don’t have a lot of brain room for summaries, but suffice to say, everyone confronts Anti again. Cause that bitch has been avoiding them, but now he’s come back with a plan. Cool stuff happens. Action! Excitement! Again I am tired and this doesn’t make sense, but I hope you like it anyway!

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty

The summer days were growing short again. Weeks had passed since Chase, Jack, and JJ had gone to hide out with Stacy and the kids, and now it was a month away from school starting again. There had been no sign of Schneep, and Jack wouldn’t lie: he was really worried about that. Luckily, he had something to take his mind off of that for right now.

“Okay, just across the room, no support from walls,” Jack said, crossing the living room to stand on the other side across from Jameson.

JJ hesitated, unsure. Can I use support if I start to fall?

“Yeah, of course. I’ll also be ready to catch you if you start to lose it.”

JJ sighed through his mask, and leaned away the wall he’d been supporting himself on. He wobbled slightly, then slowly started walking across the room. Jack watched, tensing every time JJ stumbled. But after a few minutes, JJ got into a rhythm, and soon made it to the other side. As soon as he was able, he grabbed Jack for support.

“Great!” Jack said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “You’re still limping, but you’re getting faster. How’s it feel?”

Still twinges a bit, JJ admitted. It was a bit awkward as he was trying to keep hold of Jack while signing. But infinitely better.

“That’s great, real great.” Jack nodded. “You want to stop or keep going?”

We can stop, it’s fine, JJ said. He reached over and grabbed a cane leaning against the wall. It was a cheap metal model that Stacy had bought online once she’d realized JJ was having trouble walking. She’d grumbled a bit about how nobody was telling her what had caused this, but Jameson had been thankful anyway.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Jack let Jameson walk over to the nearest chair on his own, making sure he got there safely before ducking out of the room and into the dining room.

Chase was in there, sitting at the table with his two daughters, markers and construction paper scattered about the surface. Lily was happily scribbling on a piece of green paper, while Moira was carefully cutting multicolored paper into strips and looping them through each other, making a paper chain as she stapled the loops closed.

“Dad, look!” Lily held up her drawing.

“Oh, very nice!” Chase said, smiling. “It’s a puppy, right?”

“It’s a pega-puppy, half pegasus, half puppy!” Lily said cheerfully. “I’m gonna make a uni-puppy too. They will be friends.”

“Nice, I look forward to meeting them.” Chase looked over to see Jack standing in the doorway. “Oh. Hey bro, didn’t see you there.”

“Hi Uncle Jack!” Lily waved.

Moira looked up briefly from her paper chain. “Hi.”

“Hey girls,” Jack said, waving. “Just checking on the three of you. How’re you doing?”

“Oh, we’re good.” Chase’s voice was very upbeat. “We’re doing arts and crafts to surprise Mom when she gets home from work.”

“Cool. Good luck with that.” Jack glanced out the window. The sun was still high in the sky. “I’m...going to go take a walk.”

“Wait, by yourself?” Chase’s cheerful expression dropped a bit. “Are you sure? What about—” He glanced at the girls. “—the bad guy?”

“We haven’t seen him for a month now, not since we...you know, found out.” Jack tried to shrug casually. “I think it’s alright.”

“Maybe he’s just waiting for one of us to be alone,” Chase said, now fully worried. He stood up. “Look, I’ll just come with—”

“No, it’s fine, you keep having fun,” Jack hurried to say. “I’ll be back in an hour, I just...want to look for Schneep again.”

“I really don’t think you should—”

“Chase, it’s fine,” Jack said firmly. “I won’t go too far.” Even though that could possibly impede his search, if he stuck to familiar places, but who knows? Maybe Schneep would have wandered into the area. “Look at your kids, they’re so excited. You should stay with them.”

Chase slowly sat back down. “Be careful,” he said. “Take my...you-know-what, if you need to. It’s in the bedroom.”

“I will. See you later.”

Jack found the gun right where Chase said it would be, in the dresser drawer by the bed. He did stick to close-by areas. The walk was partially a search for Schneep, but if he had to be honest with himself, Jack...didn’t think any of them would be able to find Schneep. They’d been looking for a month, and had yet to even pick up a hint of him. For all they knew, Schneep might’ve vanished off the face of the earth.

But Jack didn’t even voice those concerns to himself. Surely if he went out looking one more time he could find him. Maybe just one more time would help. Maybe just one more time.

But of course, there was nothing.

— — — — — — —

Later that evening, Chase made dinner (which is to say, mac ‘n’ cheese for everyone), Stacy came home and put on a movie for the kids in the living room, and the three men gathered together in the bedroom: Chase lying on the bed, Jack sitting on the floor, and JJ taking the chair from the desk. “So, uh...how’d it go?” Chase asked. “The walk, I mean, Jack.”

“It was alright,” Jack said. “I mean, I didn’t find anything. But I didn’t run into you-know-who either.”

Voldemort? JJ asked, amused.

“Ha ha. No, you know what I mean,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

Chase exhaled slowly. “Okay, that’s good. But, like, we should come up with a plan for if we see him again.”

I thought we had one of those, JJ said, confused.

“I mean, like, if we run into him while we’re alone. ‘Cause you know, that changes the whole plan.”

JJ sighed. Chase, while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about the plan.

Chase laughed nervously. “What about it?”

It’s just...are we sure this will...have the result we want? JJ asked delicately.

“I don’t see why it won’t,” Chase said. “Jack pulled out the soul...string...thing once before, he can do it again. And An—he’ll go poof, just like last time.”

Alright, that makes sense, JJ said. But...are we sure that we can destroy it?

“Well, I don’t know, do you think we can do that, Mr. Magic Man?” Chase asked.

Jack piped up. “I have seen your Dr. Strange magic cut through some of his strings before. If your magic is focused on helping people, just think about how getting rid of him will help all of us.”

That string wasn’t an ordinary string, Jameson protested. It’s more likely that it’s the remains of whatever black magic is holding him together. My magic might not be up for the task. He paused. And besides...even if it does, are we sure that...what we expect to happen...will happen?

Chase narrowed his eyes, and sat up. “What d’you mean?”

Jameson leaned back in the chair. All I’m saying is that...we don’t know that Marvin and Jackie will return if we destroy the string.

“It makes sense that they would,” Chase protested. “I mean, I would argue that their bodies are, y’know, buried and worse, but last time they somehow came back anyway. This spell is what made them...like this, so if we get rid of the spell, it would undo it.”

But that’s just a guess, Chase. Jameson was trying to sign gently, eyes sympathetic above his mask. There’s no solid knowledge that this will happen.

“There’s no solid knowledge about any of this! This is whole new magic territory, apparently!”

“Well, we have to try, don’t we?” Jack interrupted.

I’m not saying we don’t try, Jameson said.

“Kinda sounds like you are,” Chase mumbled.

All I’m saying is that we’re expecting to get them back the same way they apparently were before. But realistically, black magic of this magnitude would leave effects. The transference spell is already extremely destructive, and now it’s gone wrong, leaving any number of side effects.

“Anti is the side effect!” Chase shouted, getting to his feet. “We’re trying to get rid of him!”

Actually, Chase, I think you’re trying to get your friends back, Jameson said.

Silence. Chase went white, gaping. Jack stood up, looking between the two of them before going to stand by Chase. He started to reach out, but stopped. “Alright,” Chase said quietly. “So what if I am? So what if I am?! I want my best friends back, sue me for that! And we have a chance to try and get them, try to have everything go back to normal after the shit storm our lives have been! So what if I want that?!” His voice cracked.

There’s nothing wrong with that, Jameson signed slowly. But...we shouldn’t be expecting anything. There’s a high likelihood that they won’t come back. And if they do, they won’t be the same.

“I’m trying to be optimistic!”

No, you’re refusing to accept the possibility of failure! Jameson suddenly signed sharply.

“Um, guys?” Jack said. “Maybe—”

“I’m hoping that my friends come back!” Chase shouted, tears rising to his eyes. “What would you know about that?! You didn’t know them! You didn’t even have friends before we came along, Jameson Jackson!”

If silence fell before, here it crashed down. Tension filled the air, thick enough to almost be visible. Jameson stared at Chase with wide eyes. Jack gaped at Chase, his expression similar. To his credit, Chase immediately realized what he’d done, and his face grew even whiter. “JJ...I—I didn’t mean—”

Jameson pushed to his feet. With the help of his cane, he walked over to the doorway. Before leaving, he turned back around, leaning against the doorframe. Say what you will, Chase, he signed coldly. Perhaps you’re right, and I’m being callous because I never knew either of them. But just be sure. Be sure you’re prepared for whatever this plan will give you. Be prepared for them to be hollow shells like they were that week after we first defeated him. Be prepared for them to be completely different and foreign, even hostile. Be prepared for them to NOT BE THERE AT ALL. Jameson paused. If you’re prepared for all of that, then I’ll be confident trying our plan. He turned and left without another word.

Chase remained frozen for a few long seconds. Then, silently he started to cry. “I...I didn’t mean...oh fuck.” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh fuck, I fucked up.”

Jack looked like he wanted to agree, but didn’t say anything.

“I-I should go say something, right? I should go apologize. I-I didn’t mean it.” Despite saying this, Chase didn’t move from the spot. His feet remained rooted to the ground.

“Maybe not right now...” Jack suggested. “You’re both...a little heated, take some time to cool down. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah...yeah, that sounds good.” Chase lifted his face from his hands, his eyes rimmed with red. “I’ll...go...take a nap. Or something.”

“Oh. Uh...well, this is your room, so I’ll...go, then.” Jack sidled away, heading for the door. He glanced back at Chase, to see he still hadn’t moved.

“Hey...Jack,” Chase said, noticing his hesitation. “You...you do think there’s a chance, right? That we’ll get them back?”

Jack was quiet for a long time. “I think...that there’s a way. If you forced me to choose—which, let’s be honest, I kind of am being, here—the plan we have is our best shot at getting them back. Maybe...” He paused a moment, thinking. “..maybe they won’t be exactly the same. But we’ll be there to help them.” Another pause. “But there is a chance...it won’t...”

Chase didn’t react to that, aside from a slight stiffening. Jack stayed hovering in the doorway, waiting for something else. When it never came, he simply left, closing the door behind him.

In the hallway now, Jack sighed, pressing his forehead against the wall. For a moment, he stayed there, feeling the weight of everything press down on him. He was...tired. And tense. And he guessed the others felt much the same.

— — — — — — —

The next morning was a quiet one. Stacy took the kids to the park, perhaps sensing the leftover tension and deciding to get out of the way. Still, it was almost an hour after they left, and Chase and JJ had yet to interact again after the fight yesterday. It got to the point where Jack cornered each of them separately and told them to meet him in the kitchen.

Of course, once each of them got there and saw the other, things got awkward real quick. The two of them sat on either side of the kitchen table with Jack at the head in between them.

“So...” Jack said, clearing his throat. “I think...people...we...you guys need to talk?”

In case you haven’t noticed, that’s impossible, JJ remarked.

Jack winced. “You know what I mean. Yesterday was...hard for all of us.”

“Jays, you know I didn’t mean it,” Chase blurted out. “I-I was just...upset because...” He waved his hands vaguely. “I guess just—i-it was enough finding out that Marvin and Jackie are...him. I-I’m still not...anyway, it was just like you were...I mean, it’s not impossible, right? Which it kind of...felt like you were saying. You know?”

JJ stayed silent. Jack tried very hard not to facepalm. He could tell that could’ve gone better, even if he didn’t have Jameson’s reaction to go by.

Before anyone could say anything else, the front door of the house opened and slammed shut. “Chase?!” Stacy shouted.

Chase cursed under his breath, then stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said, leaving to go back into the living room.

Stacy was standing in the middle of the room, purse clutched tight to her chest, and her face very pale. “Chase, where are Lily and Moira?”

“What? Aren’t they with you?” Chase asked.

“They were! Now I don’t know where the hell they are!” Stacy threw her purse down onto the couch. She blinked back furious tears. “They were on the playground, Moira was pushing Lily on the swings. I went to buy a bottle of water, they were within earshot, it was fine, and then I turn around and they were gone! Where the hell are our kids, Chase?!”

Chase couldn’t answer. He backed up into the nearest chair and collapsed, shaking slightly.

Jack poked his head into the room. He immediately looked like he wanted to back away, but then he noticed Chase. “What happened?” he asked, stepping fully into the room.

Chase covered his mouth with his hand, pulling at his bandanna with the the other. He shook his head.

Stacy looked between the two of them. “What’s going on?!”

“I knew this would happen...” Chase choked out. “I shouldn’t have come here, I-I didn’t want to involve you, a-and now look what’s happened!”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Jack asked softly. Behind him, JJ also appeared, leaning on the door frame.

“He has my fucking kids,” Chase said, a sob ripping out of his throat.

“What?!” Jack rushed over to Chase’s side. “No no no, he can’t! He’s never involved anyone but us!”

“They’re gone, Jack!” Chase cried. “It was only t-time before h-he went after someone we knew...to get to us...we ne-never should’ve come here!”

“Oh shit.” Jack paled. “No no no, this is okay, we’ll go get them back!”

“That’s what he’ll be expecting,” Chase whispered.

Suddenly, a buzzing noise came from Stacy’s purse. She frowned, walking over to where it was on the couch and picking it up again. Digging around in it, she pulled out her phone and checked the screen. Her eyes widened. “I just got a text from an unknown number,” she said in a hushed voice.

“What’s it say?” Jack asked tentatively. Chase looked down, holding his head in his hands.

“‘I want my puppet back,’“ Stacy read out loud. “‘You know where to go. All of you can come, if you want, but if you try anything’...” She swallowed nervously. “‘...you can say goodbye to the girls. You have until noon.’ Holy shit...”

“We gotta do it,” Chase mumbled. His fingers bunched his hair, pulling it. “We gotta go. They’re just kids...”

Jack glanced over at Jameson, who’d been standing quietly the whole time. Jameson looked at him as well, and nodded. I agree...we can’t let anything happen to them. But we can’t go in without a plan, of some sorts.

“You mean...the plan?” Jack asked.

Jameson paused then shook his head. I don’t know. Maybe that would be too risky. But this’ll be the third time we go into his territory, it would be foolish to not have some sort of fail-safe in case...he doesn’t keep his word.

“What if we just did it?” Chase asked. “What if we just went through with it, a-and you guys came back for me later? I lasted five months, it can’t be too—”

“Chase, holy shit, no!” Jack cried, aghast. “You’re not going back there!”

“Wait, what?” Stacy suddenly asked.

“Long story,” Jack said to her. “And, uh...not my place.” He looked down at Chase, but he didn’t seem in the mood to explain anything right now. “The point is, there are a million better options before we go...there.”

“Do you think he’d really hurt them?” Chase asked dully. “I mean...since he’s actually them. Do you think any part of them would do something like that? I know Marv didn’t like kids much, but he was always nice to them, at least.”

We can’t take the chance, JJ said, shaking his head. He brushed away his bracelets to check his wristwatch. It’s nearly eleven o’clock, he said we only have until noon. We need to hurry.

“Hold on!” Stacy held up her hands, asking them to stop. “You’re all talking about this as if I’m not here! You know, their mother? Whatever you’re doing to get them back, I’m going with you!”

“Stace, no...” Chase said softly, a sort of whimper in his voice. “You can’t get involved in this...then the kids will have nowhere safe to go.”

“I’m sick of you not telling me anything!” Stacy insisted. “Stop talking over me!”

Chase didn’t respond, just kept his eyes fixed down in his lap. Jack cleared his throat. “Stacy...I get it, this is awful. But...well, he has a point. After we get the kids back, we...we should leave. So nothing else happens.”

Stacy looked between the three men, gaping. None of them would meet her eyes. Her gaze lingered on Chase, who was still resolutely not looking up. For a moment, her expression softened. “I’m not an idiot,” she said, though the words lacked bite. “I know this is dangerous. I can tell something’s happened. You...you don’t have the energy you used to, Chase.” She paused, waiting for a response that never came. “I just can’t sit by while the kids are in danger. I want to be...involved.”

“Understandable,” Chase muttered. “But please, please don’t. Just...don’t.”

Saying nothing, Stacy picked her purse back up and walked past Jameson, vanishing down the hall.

“God, this is all going to hell,” Jack muttered.

No shit, Jack, Jameson said, eliciting a slight gasp from the other two at the unexpected language. Look, can we just focus on the current situation? We only have an hour to plan, and it’ll take forty minutes to walk to his lair.

Jack sighed. “Alright, everyone, let’s talk this over...”

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them walked out of the house, starting down the sidewalk towards the now-familiar location of Anti’s hideout. The plan they’d concocted still wasn’t solid; it was more of a rough outline than anything, relying on the one they’d already discussed, with the promise that they’d wing it if anything came up. Which, honestly, did not inspire any of them with much confidence.

— — — — — — —

Things had changed. Though Anti’s lair was still located in the same abandoned building, though the stairs inside still led down to a hallway lit red...things had changed. It was something in the air, something sharp, like ozone. Something that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Walking down the hallway, Jack, Chase, and Jameson found themselves huddling together.

“We’re all ready?” Jack muttered. “Do we need to review anything?” Neither Chase nor JJ responded, so he kept talking. “Remember, we’re going to look like we’re agreeing, but we’re not, so don’t be worried, Chase.”

“I’m not,” Chase said automatically.

“JJ, you’re ready with your magic? Both to protect and go after the string thingy when I—”

Yes, Jack, Jameson signed quickly. Now be careful what you say.

Jack decided to stop talking.

The hallway didn’t twist and turn or connect to other hallways. Instead of the maze the hideout had been the last two times, the corridor opened up into a big, circular room. Red lightbulbs in the ceiling lit up most things, though there were shadows around the edges. The floor and walls were concrete, making it look rather like a large basement. And in the middle of the room, three figures were sitting on the floor. The kids, of course, and...

They knew it was Anti. But that didn’t stop Jack and Chase from freezing when they saw him.

Lily, chattering about something, was the first to look up and notice the three who’d just come in. She waved. “Hi Dad!” She seemed completely unconcerned about everything. Moira, on the other hand, was more aware. She had her arms wrapped around Lily, holding her close to her chest, her shoulders and expression tense.

Anti looked over at the group. He smiled, and stood up. “Oh hello there. So nice of you to show up. Though a little earlier would’ve been better, instead of waiting until the last minute. Literally. 11:59′s pushing it a bit, isn’t it?” He laughed. “Well? Come in, come closer.”

The three of them looked at each other. Jameson clutched Jack’s arm, half-leaning on him. Chase swallowed visibly. Silently, they took a few steps into the room, getting halfway to Anti before they all decided to stop.

“Though, maybe I don’t mind as much,” Anti continued nonchalantly. “Gives me more time with these cuties. We’ve been having fun, haven’t we?”

Lily nodded, giggling. “Yeah, Uncle Jackie.”

Moira didn’t answer, merely held her sister closer. She was old enough to know that if you went to a funeral for someone, that meant they weren’t coming back.

Anti smiled widely. It was unnerving, how close it was to the way Jackie would smile. But there was something...off about it. Just enough to set someone on edge. “Well...unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.” Anti shoved his hands inside the pocket of the red hoodie he wore, and turned to look at the others. “And I need to talk to your dad.”

“Aw, do we gotta? It’s been so long,” Lily pouted. Moira, still holding her, stood up, pulling her sister along.

Chase cleared his throat. “H-hey Lils? Moira? Why don’t you...come over here?”

“Why don’t y̶̴͠ơu͏ come over h̸er͟e, Chase?” Anti asked. He gestured to the kids. “Don’t you want to talk to them for a while?”

Chase paled further, his face now white. He looked back at the other two. As a group, they started to walk closer.

After a while, Anti held up a hand. “That’s close enough, you two,” he said, eyes landing on Jack and JJ. “I only want to talk to Chase.”

“A-are you—” Jack started to ask something, but then Jameson squeezed his arm, cutting him off. He gave him a look that said ‘be careful.’

“Am I sure? Yes, I’m sure.” Anti grinned. For a moment, his eyes flickered green. “Now, come cl̶os͢er̛.”

Chase hesitated, then closed the distance. Once he was close enough, he knelt down on the ground to be eye-level with the kids. “Hey, girls,” he said gently. “How are you?”

“We’re fine, Dad,” Moira said tensely. Lily nodded along.

“That’s great.” Chase tried to smile. “Well, Mom was really nervous, you know? She didn’t know you were leaving.”

“Really? Uncle Jackie said she said it was okay,” Lily said, confused.

“Well, maybe she didn’t expect you to be gone so long,” Chase said softly. “It’s time to go home now, before she starts worrying. You go with Uncle Jack and JJ, okay? I’ll stay here and talk with...Jackie.”

“Alright, Dad. We’re going.” Moira shuffled to the side, away from Anti, taking Lily with her. Once she’d shuffled around Chase, she let go of Lily and grabbed her hand, running the rest of the distance to Jack and Jameson.

Before Chase could stand up, Anti settled a hand down on top of his shoulder, preventing him from getting up. “Well?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “You heard him, it’s time for all of you to go home. If you stay any longer, something might hap͠p̡e̴n̶. Give us some privacy to talk, huh?”

Jack reached down and took Moira’s other hand. He nodded slowly, and started backing up, bringing the rest of the group with him. Briefly, his left eye flickered closed, activating his soul vision. Chase and JJ’s were the same as ever. The kids had soul lights as well—iris for Moira, peach for Lily—shining brighter than any other lights in the room. And Anti’s soul was still a mess, red and blue shards meshed together and tangled with green string. But...was it just his imagination, or did the mess of shards look somehow...looser?

Anti and Chase watched as Jack, Jameson, and the kids retreated, staring at them until they disappeared into the doorway. Once they were out of sight, Anti grabbed Chase by the bandanna and pulled him up. Chase choked in surprise. “Hello again, p͢͡u̴p̸͞p͝ę̛͝t,” Anti said cheerfully. His form flickered, and the disguise of Jackie fell away like unraveling fabric, revealing Anti as the others had always known him. “I m̢͏í̛͞s̴̢s̴e͏̵d̢̕͝ you.”

Chase didn’t respond. He reached up and tried to loosen Anti’s hold on his bandanna, but his grip was firm, and it was pulling the knot tighter.

“Oh?” Anti grabbed Chase’s wrist with his other hand. He squeezed it. Chase stiffened. Then his body went limp, his eyes dull. Anti smiled. “That’s b̨̢̀et͟t̨̨eŗ̸̨. You can do without these wristbands, you kn—”

A disc of blue light whirled towards Anti, slicing across his arms. Anti yelled, and dropped Chase, who fell to the ground unmoving. Spinning around, he saw Jack and Jameson standing in the doorway, glaring at him identically. Jack held a kitchen knife in one hand, and Jameson had two of his magic circles balancing on his fingers. Some ways into the hall behind them, there was another blue glow, the same shade as Jameson’s magic.

Anti scowled, but suddenly, smiled. “Clever, clever. I should’ve k͠ńo͠͏̡w̸n you weren’t going to g҉o ͢͞t̴̕h͟ro͢uģh̷ with this.” He tilted his head. “But then again, maybe I͞ ͇̻̦̟̣̣͡d̖͈͡i̼͖͟d͍̦̹͎.̥”

His eyes suddenly glazed over with static, red on his left and blue on his right. White noise filled the air as he raised his hands, and slammed them downward. The ground rumbled, and cracks shot across the floor, cutting through the concrete, forming a line between Anti and Chase, and Jack and Jameson. Anti grinned, holding his hands out again, close together. Slowly, he made a motion like he was pulling something apart, glitches and static racking his form. The ground shook again. Jameson fell to the floor with a muffled cry, and Jack leaned against the wall to keep from doing the same. The cracks in the floor widened, and slowly, the part of the room Anti was standing on started drifting away from the other half, leaving a widening crevice behind, dropping down into blackness.

“Shit!” Jack cried. He rushed forward. The ground rumbled again, and he fell hard as it lurched beneath his feet. The knife clattered against the concrete.

Jameson lifted himself into a kneeling position, and flung out a hand. Blue light attached itself to either edge of the crevice, sticky strands made of runes forming a rough bridge. Anti scowled, and once again made the pulling-apart gesture. The room shook, slowly at first, then rising into a violent quake. The two sides strained to pull away. Jameson reached out with both hands, clenching his fists like he was physically holding the room together. The strands of magic multiplied and dug into the ground. Jameson caught Jack’s eye and gestured with his head towards the magic bridge.

Jack climbed to his feet, grabbing the kitchen knife. He ran towards the bridge. He skidded to a halt once he reached the edge of the ravine. He glanced down, and paled. “Chase!” He shouted.

On the other side of the ravine, Chase stirred, and weakly tried to get up. But Anti noticed. He stepped on Chase’s back, pushing him back down. Static running along his limbs, breaking them apart, Anti made the pulling-apart gesture one more time.

The room shook, bucking and heaving. Jack stumbled, almost falling headfirst into the ravine before backing up. Jameson fell onto his side. A few strands of the magic bridge snapped. Jameson reached out again, his eyes flaring brighter blue. The bridge repaired itself, more strands appearing, but it was taunt. Jameson was shivering, beads of sweat trailing down his face as he fought to keep the room together.

Jack took a deep breath, and ran forward, stepping onto the magic bridge. He sprinted across it, the magic almost bouncing beneath his feet. Anti screamed, and the room shook again. Jack managed to step onto the other side, just as the ravine shot open wider, snapping the bridge in half. On the other side of the room, Jameson’s hands fell to the ground, his eyes closing as he went very still.

“Y̢͟o͡͏u̶.̷͢͢” Anti growled, pointing at Jack. “Are by far the w̨͉̠̘̳ͅo͏̸̸̫̦͈͕̗r̝͇͉̝̘̹̟̕̕s̙̹̩̭̻͠͠t̨̠͝ one. I ̵h̛͠a̡͢t̵̢͠e̛ ̸̕yo͞͞u͏̵ s̯̝o̧͎͉̬̬̟̻̹.̪̣̘̦̀ ͎͍̜̳̜M̭̖͇̖̯u̻͔̲͇c̦̫̲h̬. ”

“I figured that out a while ago,” Jack muttered, feeling all his old scars twinge. He gripped the knife tightly and pointed it at Anti. “Let him go.”

Anti burst into laughter. “Or w̨̛hat̸?”

“Or this!” Jack ran forward, quickly closing the distance. Anti chuckled, and just as Jack drew near, glitched away, reappearing behind him. Jack skidded to a halt and spun around.

“Ẁo̷̢͟w̧͡, good job.” Anti clapped. “Have you considered th̷̢͢is̷?” He reached to the side and pulled out a knife of his own, taking a swipe at Jack. Yelping, Jack jumped backwards, but Anti glitched again, reappearing behind Jack just as he was stepping backwards. Pain blossomed from a point on Jack’s lower back, and before he could even respond to that, Anti pushed him forward onto the ground. Once again, Jack dropped the knife. “You’re so p͠͝áţ̕͢het̵i̴̷͞c̷. Even Schneep had a fighting spirit, this is just s͏̢a͟d̨͠.”

Dimly, Jack registered that this wasn’t going well. Then immediately, the part of him that wasn’t concerned with the stab wound in his back went YOU THINK?! They hadn’t been counting on Anti somehow knocking Chase out of the fight right from the start. They hadn’t realized that Anti would be able to pull the room apart. They hadn’t thought about how the effort of holding the room together would make Jameson pass out, leaving Jack the only one left. Even if they had come up with a more thorough plan, their efforts still would’ve failed, because they hadn’t been expecting any of this.

“What would you do...” Anti raised his left hand. “...if you just..,drop̀͞p̨e̸͢d̛͝͠?” And he clenched his fist, sending a wave of static into the air.

The ground beneath Jack started shaking and bucking violently. Cracks appeared in its surface, spreading rapidly across the concrete. Every time he tried to stand up, Jack lost his balance. He watched pieces of the floor wall away and leave blackness behind. Anti was laughing. Jack kept trying to get up or roll away, but the small earthquake was too wild, pushing him back to place every time. The floor was giving away and he braced himself—

Anti screamed.

The ground settled. Jack quickly scrambled away from the cracks that remained on its surface. Once he was on solid ground, he looked up to see Anti...fighting with someone. At first he thought it was Chase, but then the person drew away from the fight, and realization struck him like lightning. “Schneep?!” He gasped.

Schneep turned toward him, responding to the sound of his voice. He wore a long black coat over his outfit, and held a pair of scissors in his hand. His eyes were...different. The scars were still there, underneath his eyes in the shape of tears, but now his irises glowed turquoise, his scleras black. He grinned. “Hello, Jack. Nice to, ah, see you again. In the metaphor sense.”

Jack laughed a bit. “Y-yeah,” he said, climbing to his feet. “Where have you been?”

“Is a long story, and not one that can be summed up easily,” Schneep said. “Especially not now.”

Anti shrieked, the sound more akin to an electronic whine than anything human. His form was glitching so hard that it was causing him to stumble and stagger. Eventually it settled, and he glared at Schneep. “You think you’re ş̸̴m͡a̡rt̵?̧̨!̧” He demanded.

“Well...” Schneep held up his scissors. A length of green string was caught in their blades. He snapped the scissors shut, cutting the string in half. “Yes.”

Anti growled. He clutched at his left arm...which was still glitching pretty severely, despite the rest of his body being fine. Glancing down, Jack’s eyes widened when he saw Anti’s hand separated from his wrist, dangling from a few strands of green thread. The string soon snapped, and the hand fell to the ground, where it glitched out of existence. The wound that was left dripped colorful static instead of blood.

Shocked, Jack closed his eye, activating his soul vision. The mess of shards that was Anti’s soul looked even looser than before. And as he glanced at Schneep’s soul, something seemed...different about it, too. In a way he couldn’t quite describe.

“You want to f̡ig͡͏̸ḩ͢t͞?̷̧” Anti summoned his knife with his remaining hand. “Le͢ţ's ̸ge̴t̶ to it́!̷” He lunged at Schneep.

Schneep didn’t even turn toward him, instead vanishing. The air behind Anti sliced open and Schneep stepped out, wrapping his arms around Anti’s torso. Anti shrieked again, and glitched to the side, swiping with his knife. Schneep countered with the scissors, and jabbed them forward. Anti backed up and slashed again. This time, Schneep opened the scissors, catching the knife in between the two blades. Quickly, he snapped the scissors shut and twisted, yanking the knife out of Anti’s grip. He grabbed the knife’s handle, now armed with two weapons. “Jack, make sure Chase is alright,” he said. “He feels like he is, but better safe than sorry.”

“What?”

Anti summoned another knife, darting forward while Schneep seemed distracted. But Schneep was gone. Now he was on the other side of the room, the other side of the ravine. Anti screamed, and glitched over, and the fighting began again.

Jack scrambled over to where Chase was. He turned him over, eyes scanning him. Chase’s eyes were open, but dulled. His chest was rising and falling slowly. Jack wanted to check his pulse, but he didn’t want to remove the bandanna or the wristbands without permission. “Chase? Are you okay, bud?” Jack asked, gently shaking his shoulder.

Chase blinked, and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Dude, come on, wake up! Or, well, you’re not exactly asleep—snap out of it!” He shook him harder, and Chase groaned, the dull look in his eyes fading a bit. “Chase, say something!”

“...something...” Chase muttered.

Jack laughed hysterically. “Okay, that’s good. How do you feel?”

“...kinda foggy,” Chase said slowly. “What...he squeezed my wrist, and I...”

“Maybe that was a pressure point or a trigger point or something?” Jack guessed.

“Maybe...” Chase squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them wide. “What’s going on?”

“Um...Schneep showed up, cut Anti’s hand off, and now they’re fighting.”

“...I must be really out of it, ‘cause I thought you said Schneep cut Anti’s hand off.”

“Nope, that wasn’t just you, bud,” Jack said, shaking his head. He pointed across the room to the fight boiling between Schneep and Anti. The two of them were disappearing and reappearing, much like they had when Schneep’s magic first manifested in the apartment. But this seemed more controlled, more deliberate.

Chase sat up slowly, squinting. “...oh. He doesn’t have a hand.”

“Yeah.”

“...what...the fuck?” Chase said. His voice was soft, but it contained a lot of feeling.

“I know, dude, here, just let me help you up.”

The two of them stood, staring across the ravine in the floor at the fight. “JJ...” Chase whispered, pointing across to where Jameson laid on the floor, still unconscious.

“I know...” Jack looked down at the ravine. “How’re we going to get across?”

Chase didn’t have time to answer, because just then, Anti and Schneep disappeared, reappearing three feet away from them. Jack and Chase cried out in unison, stumbling back. Schneep ducked one of Anti’s blows and tackled him, pushing him to the ground. Then suddenly, the world fell apart and sewed itself together. And Schneep was standing upright again, but Anti wasn’t. Schneep walked over to Chase and Jack and silently grabbed the two of them. The air shivered, and suddenly they were on the other side of the room, right by—

“Jameson!” Chase cried, kneeling next to him. “Hey, hey, dude. Wake up!”

Anti screamed. He glitched upright, then over to their group, lashing out at them with the knife. Schneep grabbed his arm, and suddenly he was attacking his wrist with his scissors. Anti yelled, dropping the knife in surprise, and glitched back a bit. His right hand was now dangling from green thread, though it didn’t fall away. Static crawled over his body. He laughed and screamed at once, flickering and staggering, appearance shifting between himself, Marvin, and Jackie.

“Jack, this is very important,” Schneep said. “You remember how you pulled out that string?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “We were planning on doing that again.”

“Good! Do it. But first, we need to snip snip the stitches on his neck.”

“The—oh.” Jack hadn’t thought much about the green stitches holding Anti’s throat wound closed. They were...awful, but he’d just accepted them as part of Anti’s appearance. “Alright, got it.”

“What about me?” Chase asked.

“Make sure Jack and Jamie do not get hurt while I do this,” Schneep said, raising the scissors and pointing them at Anti.

“You̢'re ͠a̸ll̡ ͡w̢eak!” Anti yelled, words barely audible through static and distortion. He stumbled, legs glitching into broken pieces. Pieces of red and blue static sliced through his body. “Awfu̸l, ͡tęrr͟i͡ble͠—͢h͞ap̢py̡ p̨e̛ople! ̸W̶h̷y ̀a̕r͝e̢ y̛o̶u h͢ap͡py?!̶ W̕h̴y̶ ̨am ͞I ͞be̵ing̵ ͠torn̛ ąp̕a̡r͞t—breaking͏,͝ a͏gony, pa͡i̴n p̀àin͞ ̴pai̡n—͡a̧nd͢ ̨y͠ou̵ are ͢nǫt?͟!̕ Hap̢py̵, ͞h̀a̕pp͏y—́l̸i͏vin̢ǵ,̀ ͡livi͏ng! I hat̶e̛ you! Í ͞H̛A҉TĘ ̧Y͢OU͠!̵ YOU͡ ͏SH̀OU̸L͞D̶ ̨S̢UFF̧E̶R ͠L͠IḰE̵ WE A̛RE!” He laughed, and cried, and screamed all at once. And then he lunged at them, arms outstretched, no weapons bared, eyes red and blue and green.

Schneep ducked. He opened the scissors wide, flipped them in his hand, and sliced. Anti stopped where he was, a wound on his chest bleeding static. He staggered back, then laughed and lunged again in a blind attack. Schneep pushed him back, away from the others. Anti snarled and screamed and laughed and sobbed and shouted all at once, arms breaking into glitchy pieces as he tried to attack blindly, punching and clawing. Schneep remained calm, deflecting every wild blow. Anti paused for just the slightest moment, and that’s when Schneep struck. He darted forward, slicing with the blade of the scissors. The slash cut cleanly through the stitches on Anti’s neck.

“Jack, now!” Schneep yelled. Jack ran forward. He hesitated for a moment. Anti was falling apart, a million voices coming out of his mouth, static leaking from his neck and various wounds, a mess of glitches and static with the image of his friends thrown in. But Jack steeled himself, and plunged his hand into the glitchy mess’s chest. His fingers grabbed something, and he pulled. Out came the green string. Schneep reached out, and Jack quickly handed it to him. He folded the string in on itself a couple time, then cut through the bundled up mess with the scissors.

Three screams at once rang out through the room. Then Anti flew apart, glitches and static bursting outward. There was nothing left.

Schneep dropped the remains of the green strings, panting. “That...was easier than I was expecting,” he said.

“Easy?!” Chase repeated incredulously.

“Yes. I suppose he fell apart the more damage we did. It makes sense.” Schneep nodded.

Jack was rendered speechless. He stared at Schneep, gaping. “I—what—how—oh my—what?” He shook his head. “The string. We thought it couldn’t be cut.”

“Special scissors.” Schneep snipped said scissors a couple times. “I...picked them up. Is a long story.”

“Broooo!” Chase shouted. “That was epic! How’d you learn to do any of that?! That was badass!”

Schneep smiled softly. “Well...I have been practicing. After a certain...encounter made me realize what I could do, I decided to form a plan to take Anti down. And...thank you. You are all alright?”

“We’re fine, yeah,” Jack said. “Well...JJ’s still out.”

“Is he?” Schneep asked. “Someone should carry him out of here.”

“I got it.” Chase scooped JJ into his arms. He glanced toward the back of the room. His eyes widened. “Uh...guys? Look at that.”

Jack turned to follow his gaze. The wall on the opposite side of the room was cracking, the concrete turning black and falling apart. “That...can’t be good.”

“What? What is it?” Schneep asked.

“Oh...so you still can’t see?” Jack asked.

“What? No! Why do you think I make that joke earlier? I just...I feel where people are, and it makes it easier.”

“Well, the room is falling apart. We should go.” Jack grabbed Schneep’s hand and started walking toward the doorway.

“You got the kids out?” Chase asked, following.

“Yes, we told them to go down the hall and up the stairs and wait for us outside the building. JJ put protection around them like we planned.” Jack frowned. “Though...maybe that went away after he passed out.”

Chase picked up the pace.

Once they left the building, they found Lily and Moira sitting on the pavement outside, perfectly fine. Chase started to cry. “Hey girls,” he said softly.

“Hi Dad,” Moira said.

“Hi Dad!” Lily shouted, waving. “Hi Uncle Hen! Uncle Jack! Why is Uncle JJ asleep? Where did Uncle Jackie go?”

Chase fell silent. “I think...he’s gone. R...right, Schneep?”

Schneep said nothing, then nodded softly. “I think he is,” he said quietly.

Tears started to pour faster from Chase’s eyes, but he swallowed the sobs. Not in front of the girls. “Well...c’mon, we’re going home, now. And we’ll tell you everything on the way.”

It was a long walk back to the house.

Once they arrived, Stacy and the girls reunited tearfully. She again demanded that they tell her what happened, but even though it was the middle of the day, everyone agreed they needed a rest. Chase promised to explain everything to her that evening.

They all took separate rooms, with Schneep staying with Jack for a while. He also promised explanations later.

Once he was alone, Chase started to cry in earnest.

They really were gone now.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #fixing stitching #stitchedstories

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

Text

The Year of the Bitch| JAN + FEB 2020

Hello, my darlings!

Long time no see, and I apologize for that. I thought I’d let you know a bit about how these first two months of my Bitch Life (lmao) have been going and I’ll do it under the cut because I doubt many will want to know about my life.

Just a spoiler: I’m working on the cover of a coming-soon book 😏 + goal for the next few months: try and don’t catch this coronavirus bs 🙃

Memory wise, I still suck ass, so #i’m sorry #i’ll forget to talk about some things.

Generally speaking, January and February are exam months because of uni and long story short, your bitch failed an exam for the first time ever. But you know what? I’m not even sad about it -- I wasn’t the day I failed (I mean, at first I was ofc, but the wait for the train home gave me time to think and I realized that I wasn’t as sad as I thought I’d be), and I’m not sad now. I think it was a great lesson -- and to put it with my brother’s words, “You gotta start failing or the real world will kick your ass.” Like,

also, considering as it was said by someone who can’t face shit for the life of him... double the energy of that gif

But yeah, at the end of the day I came to the conclusion that sometimes we have to fail in order to succeed, and that failure? Bitch, it kicked me into Hyper Motivated Bitch mode, I’m not even kidding.

Also, I learned that no matter how hard some things might seem (Economics exam, I’m looking at ya) or how little I think I know (Economics exam, still talking about your ugly ass), it’s the effort that matters and bitch *out of breath*, the effort I put into that exam!

I’ve also come to terms -- and in a peaceful way, wow, look how mature I’m getting -- with the writer’s block that’s still digesting me. I have zero (0) inspiration or motivation to write these months days, but I’m trying to get back on track by reworking a novel I’d actually like to publish one day. It’ll most likely be a long ass process, but it’s okay, it’s still a ride I’m willing to live through to the end.

The high I’ve been on for the past two months is now dropping down into a puddle of new fam problems (*dramatic exhale* -- I’m still learning how to ask for help but for once this is not the case lol), BUT I’ve been working on myself a lot ever since New Year’s. I’ve been working out, I’ve been consistent with yoga and meditation, I’m trying to build healthy habits in general AND WAIT FOR IT

I’ve been getting into the hang of Photoshop once more!!! My parents got me a drawing tablet for Christmas (I have vague memories of saying this already tho ?) and not only did it allow me to make Tatyana’s file a little more ‘personal’ in a way, buuuuuut I might’ve been getting into digital art?? 🙈 I’m loving it and despite being a newbie with this whole thing, I’m having so much fun, you guys have no idea. It relaxes me even when I make mistakes and I think this whole experience is a great teacher, considering how perfectionist I tend to get. I can fuck around, draw shitty things and still have fun while doing it, but also paint fairly decent pieces that make me proud of my horrible ones.

The most exciting part of this ‘artistic journey’ is... *drum roll* a friend of mine is going to publish a book (in Italian, so it probably won’t travel the world and you won’t see my art but who cares) and I’ve been making a book cover for her for the past... month ? ish ? I’m very slow, but I also have other things to do, so that’s okay. It’s not entirely my work since she gave me a drawing her friend made and I reworked it, BUT STILL, YA KNOW??? I’m very excited about it and happy and proud of the results I’m getting, despite it still being a WIP and all. I might even share it once the book is out, who knows! I just need validation lmao

Last but not least, I’ve been more forgiving with myself. I’ve been getting to know myself better, I got back in touch with a friend I hadn’t heard from for over a year... In a weird non-self-centered way I’ve been focusing on myself and my (mental and physical) health a lot more and while the results might not be tangible yet, I’m feeling a lot happier and that’s the vibe I wanna keep with myself for the whole fucking decade.

Before this whole coronavirus shit hit the fan I was planning trips with my dad, but now it’s all on pause. But the moral of this story is, I want to experience more -- more things, more feelings, more time out with the people (my doggo included) I love. We only live once (or, at least, we tend to forget about our past lives?) and maybe I won’t live mine to the fullest of its capabilities (your bitch is broke), but that won’t stop me from going out there when I can.

Special shout out to my cousin for still being my inspiration -- and to Arianna for adding herself to the list. They’ll never see this post and read my appreaciation, but it’s also thanks to them that the bitch inside me is thriving.

To end this rant I’d like to thank the friends that’ve been walking this path with me, most of all Ty aka Fran Fine (lol, you’re still saved like that on my phone) and Claudia for sharing it and also sharing things and experiences with me. Knowing you’re not completely alone in this truly is a good feeling and a blessing.

My next goal is to find a balance between being there for myself and being there for my friends. I’m sure I’ve seemed a bit detatched lately, but it’s only been because I’ve been trying to figure my shit out. March and April (all the way through to December) will be better, I promise 💛

There’s a lot more I’ll remember only after hitting ‘post,’ but these are the very highlights of my journey so far and I really wanted to share also bc this bitch needs to be kept accountable.

Kudos to you if you made it past the ‘read more’ thing and then to the end of this very rambly post. If you want to share your progress in this Bitch Project thing, feel free to hit me up; we can cheer each other up!

Much love,

Angela

#angelaiswriting #Personal Update #personal #the bitch project #the year of the bitch #the bitch is rising

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captainkaithr · 5 years

Text

Judgement Calls

It’s been a hot minute! Have some gays.

for @werebudgie‘s birthday, which was... a while back! she did get it on time, I just haven’t had the internet to upload until now

[DA] [AO3] [ko-fi]

Maxie stood rigid to attention, hands clasped behind his back as he waited for judgement. Erist sat at his side and ignored Shale, who was poking about the bases of the pillars that the orbs were kept on.

He wanted to call him to attention, but Shale had never listened to his commands. Archie hadn’t used normal commands for training his mightyena, and it was infuriating. He was the only one Shale would listen to, and he didn’t care for keeping him under control at all.

“... Never mind the side effects that you will suffer from, time to time.” One of the orb keepers finished speaking.

“Wait, side effects?” Maxie frowned and looked back at the keepers. They were all ancient. It had been easy to take the orbs. “What… side effects?”

“Oh, you know,” said the one in blue, his eyes twinkling. “The unmitigated rage of an elemental legendary, coursing through your puny mortal form.”

Archie guffawed. “Puny? You’re the frail one, old man.”

The orb keeper smiled, not put off at all. “I suggest yoga.”

Maxie snorted, then tried to cover the sound up by clearing his throat and fixing his glasses. “What kind of reparations must be made?”

The blue orb keeper smiled benevolently over his glasses. “You have returned the orbs. The world is at rest.”

“But-” Maxie cut himself off with a sharp exhalation, looking down at Erist.

The mightyena swept her tail up against the back of his legs, but otherwise didn’t move.

“They’ll give you grief enough to last out lifetimes,” said the red orb keeper with something approaching a cackle.

“The legendaries mete out their own punishments to those that steal the orbs,” said the one in green, who seemed like he was the youngest.

They were all decrepit. Maxie sized him up. The green orb hadn’t interested him then, and it definitely didn’t now.

“So we can just leave? We’re good to go?” Archie thumbed over his shoulder, back down the mountain.

All three orb keepers dipped their heads in acknowledgement at the same time.

“You may,” said the blue one.

“Great!” Archie clicked finger guns at them. “Be seeing you around, I’m sure.”

At the click of his fingers, Shale pricked his ears up and bounded back over.

“Farewell.” Maxie bowed stiffly.

“Be seeing you indeed.” The blue one again, his eyes twinkling.

“If you should ever need help-” the green one started to say.

“We won’t,” Maxie said stiffly, as he turned on his heel and stalked down the path. He would never be coming back to this mountain in his lifetime, if he could help it.

Erist paced at his side, head lowered but ears pricked up. There were ghosts on this mountain, but she would keep them away.

“Hey-” Behind him, Archie broke into a jog to catch up. “Bro. Buddy. Dude. My guy.” He overtook, turned, and walked backwards as he tried to catch Maxie’s eye. “Babe.”

“Don’t - do that.” Maxie jerked to a halt and glared at Archie through his ash stained glasses. He’d given up trying to clean them here, where the ash was thick and smeared over everything. It reminded him of Lavaridge. Of his failure.

“What?” Archie stepped back to meet him, just a pace away.

Maxie made an effort to stand his ground, not to back away. Archie didn’t mean to be threatening, he was sure, but… how could he not remember?

Shale snuffed at Erist, who put her ears back and growled.

“Pretend like - as if everything is back to how it was! Like nothing has changed, as if we didn’t just attempt to do things so monumentally stupid that it fell to a couple of children to stop us!”

It had been so, so stupid. No rational thought, and the merest basics of any kind of scientific thought behind it.

“Sure, but it all worked out.” Archie shrugged. “You heard them!” He waved his arm back beyond Maxie. “The world is back in balance.” There was ash flaking across his chest.

Maxie repressed the urge to wipe it off for him – Archie never would, would probably never notice it was there – and took off his glasses to make a futile attempt at cleaning them instead. Anything not to look at Archie.

“Those kids did good!” Archie laughed, dropping his hand onto Shale’s head. “I mean man, they calmed a coupla crazed legendaries. Who’s ever heard of that happening before?”

“They shouldn’t have had to calm them. We should have kept it under control, or never gone that far, or-”

Erist nosed his palm and Maxie startled silent.

He finished cleaning his glasses and put them back on.

Archie had that old familiar look on his face, the sympathy one he pulled out whenever he felt that Maxie was misguided in his thoughts.

Maxie looked away, stiffened his jaw, and brushed past Archie as if he wasn’t there, as if he was no one to him.

He smelt of the sea, as strong as ever.

“Max...”

Maxie was proud he didn’t turn back; he didn’t flinch at Archie’s broken tone. HE just kept walking.

“I thought it might come to this. Go get him boy.”

Shale barked, the sound more of a deep bellow.

Maxie’s eyes widened, recognising the command. “Shale - no!” He half-turned, as if that would stop the avalanche of mightyena launched at him.

He fell, one hand flying to protect his glasses and the other out to break his fall.

Erist made herself a pillow between him and the hard ground, and growled at Shale as the bigger mightyena pulled back, tail wagging high.

Archie laughed and clapped Shale’s side. “Good boy.” He swung a leg over Maxie and crouched down, stopping him from getting up.

“Your mightyena is an unruly bastard,” Maxie said, shuffling himself backwards.

“Like owner like pokemon, you used to say.” Archie grinned.

“That stands, too.” He reached out a hand to push Archie away. Futile gestures; he was made of them.

Archie caught his hand with the sort of ease that would have made Maxie’s gesture ridiculously infantile and weak, if he hadn’t done it with the utmost sincerity and as gently as he had always tried to be.

Every inch of fight went out of Maxie. He leant back against Erist, who licked his ear, and gazed up at Archie.

The sky was dark behind him. Even this far up the mountain – how far had they walked from the summit? Not far at all – the sun had set.

“I’m done,” Maxie said.

Archie was playing with his hand, and the heat radiating off him was almost uncomfortable.

“Did you hear me?” Maxie asked. “I’m done.” He wanted up, he wanted away. He wanted cool and clear and pristine surroundings. A lab, somewhere, where everything he had to deal with was cold hard fact.

“I know.” Archie lifted Maxie’s hand up and kissed his palm.

Maxie kept his hand on Archie’s cheek, even after Archie let go. “I’m sorry.” That didn’t cover it – could only barely begin to cover it – but it was a start.

“What for?” Archie asked, eyes on Maxie.

“For everything? For pushing you away, for almost destroying the world, for not listening when you were only trying to help. For leaving.”

“We all make mistakes, Max.”

The night was dark with cloud cover, though the mist hadn’t risen. Maxie could only see the faintest of shapes, but he could feel Erist at his back and Archie in front of him.

“Where was yours?” Maxie whispered. “When have you ever made a mistake?” Maxie doesn’t realise that Archie had moved forward, didn’t realise that he’d leant up himself, until Archie’s hands were on his head, one at his neck and the other tracing up his throat, thumb along his jawline.

“When I didn’t chase you sooner. When you told me to leave and I did.”

Maxie stifled the whimper in his throat by grabbing Archie, by closing the last of the distance between them.

Kissing Archie was like coming home again, finally, and he wasn’t sure why he’d ever stopped, ever pushed away the one person who had only ever wanted him to be himself and not their expectations.

Maxie pulled himself into Archie’s warmth, hands inside his jacket, and groaned.

Archie broke their kiss, laughing, to say, “Easy there, Max,” his breath warm down Maxie’s neck.

Maxie started to pull back, but then-

“I didn’t say stop.” And Archie pulled him back in, lifting off the ground, off Erist.

Another cavernous bark, and Shale bulldozed them both over to tumble across the ground.

“Shale!” Archie was laughing, lying underneath Maxie now.

Maxie sat on his waist and fixed his glasses. “Your mightyena is an insufferable bastard.”

“Knows what a moment needs.” Archie pushed Shale’s muzzle away as the mightyena came in to investigate.

“Everything alright there?” One of the orb keepers was there, shining a flash light across them.

“Just lost our footing!” Archie grinned, waving up at him.

Maxie stood, straightened himself out.

“The paths are dangerous after dark,” the orb keeper agreed, picking his way down to join them. “You may find this useful.” He offered Maxie his torch.

Maxie took it, turning it over. “Won’t you need it?”

The green orb keeper. He smiled and shook his head. “I’ve lived on this mountain for a long time now. I know it well.”

“Thank you.” Maxie inclined his head, a little less stiff than he had been before.

The orb keeper cast an eye over him and then Archie – just getting to his feet – and smiled. “Good night.”

“Night, old man.” Archie waved at his back.

With Shale and Erist on either side of them, they started down the mountain again.

“So,” Archie said, breaking their silence. “What now?”

Maxie glanced up at the cloudy sky. “I think... I’m going to go back to university.”

”Yeah?” Archie raised an eyebrow.

Maxie nodded. “Finish in medicine. Help the people that need it, properly.”

Archie grinned. “Me and the boys are going to start a rowing team. Something like that.” He reached out for Maxie’s hand. “So you’d better pick a Uni with good sports facilities, alright?”

Maxie smiled and adjusted his glasses. “Alright. As long as you don’t break more bones as an excuse to see me.”

“Hey, I don’t need an excuse to see my boyfriend, do I?” He pressed a kiss against Maxie’s cheek and took his free hand.

Maxie smiled and squeezed his fingers, safe in the darkness where no one could see what he was doing. “I don’t suppose you do.”

#pokemon #fanfic #pokemon oras #pokemon rse #writing pieces #marchiexarchie #maxie/archie

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antique-darling · 4 years

Text

12 steps backwards

Hi, I’m Carys and I’m an alcoholic.

It started the same way as practically everyone else; understanding the intoxicating beauty of alcohol, a true social lubricant - and a firm willing suspension of disbelief that it’ll ever happen to you.

The whole sordid affair began around Christmastime 2006. I was extremely young and very beautiful, and dressed the part of a perfect outcast with my various studs and spikes, my facial piercings mostly resembling that of one who has headbutted a box of map pins. But I was horrifically shy, the shackles of post-puberty still lingering.

We’re in the UK, so I was handed a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at a house party. The more I drank, the more confident I became. I felt vibrant and stunning, although I was most likely being annoying. Even caught myself my first boyfriend that night, something which I’d never successfully been able to do. I managed to forget the two-day hangover which ensued.

Thus began a bitter relationship with alcohol, my best friend of over a decade who betrayed me, in the end.

I lived a 3-minute walk away from my high school, so I would frequently nip home at lunch to swindle some booze my mum had unsuccessfully ‘hidden’ away. She worked every weekday, and my parents had just separated at this point, which definitely made the whole debacle easier. In retrospect, the separation and eventual divorce probably affected me more than I realised.

A string of failed relationships, including an engagement, before I’d even turned 18 shaped me more into this polyp of self-loathing, and a glass of wine would ease the hatred a little more, or I’d down a bottle of something stronger.

By the time I’d reached 16, I decided that I was an adult, and panicked because I wasn’t getting pregnant. Somehow, in my mind, I neglected to recall that stress and abusing alcohol is the opposite of a good environment for a foetus. Over the past decade, I’ve lost count of the number of dead babies to drop out of me.

I’m fairly certain I fell in love with the devil when I was 17. He was strong and handsome, and an alcoholic himself. Although at this time, my true alcoholism had not yet fully manifested. This man made it a reality.

He told me to stop taking my pill because it was making me “moody”. I acquiesced, assuming I was barren anyway. Discovering I was around 6 weeks pregnant was a shock, to say the least.

I was still in school and he was jobless due to a health condition I like to call chronic laziness and taking all of my money to supplement his drug and alcohol habits. I’d been in abusive relationships before him, and they’re honestly what I probably deserve. I’m constantly drawn to the same sorts of people, despite my better judgment. The problem, therein, lies in me.

But this man was king. I have endured nothing like the hell he dragged me through since.

So, the option he gave me was crystal clear; “it’s not very nice being a single mum”. I had just turned 18, and I was so very vulnerable. I had already been corrupted by the 4 men who had came before him, so my self-worth was absolutely nothing. Again, I acquiesced to his demands.

If I knew all those years ago what I know now, I would have left him and had my child. But he took my choice away from me, he forced a child into me and forced it back out again. He caused me to betray every part of my moral integrity, every single belief that I held dear. And it still feels, to this very day, as painful as it did in 2012. I wish I’d killed myself instead of my baby. I haven’t spoken to this man in many years, but he haunts me daily. The saddest truth is that I’m sure he doesn’t even remember I exist. I know he never loved me, but I loved him with a ferocity which I’ve not felt since.

And I so desperately wanted a child. I still do. It still won’t happen - I’ve cursed myself and I am dealing with the wrath of eternity. Hell is on earth and I have created it.

So, to absolutely no surprise to anyone, I hit the bottle hard after that. I had to take a week off after the abortion due to antibiotics and opioid painkillers, but the minute I could, I drowned.

After all, I was 18. I had a drinking permit.

I spent my entire university career after that point getting blind drunk daily. At my peak, I’d drink cheap bottled cider (but not Frosty Jack’s or White Lightning - I had some class) as if it was cola or something. I’d have wine on a Friday and Saturday night, typically two bottles, and a bottle of vodka every day. This went on for 5 years.

During this time I was engaged again, to someone I’d met at university. We were together for 4 years, living together, and I remember virtually nothing of the relationship. It was the longest relationship I had ever been in, and sometimes I forget his name. I certainly don’t remember what he looked like.

Naturally, that relationship broke down when, on the 11th of September 2018, I surrendered. My 12-year relationship with alcohol was over.

I would wake up next to my partner every day, and the more time I spent not drinking, the more I realised he was a total stranger in my bed. After a month of sobriety, I awoke to the fact I had absolutely no recollection of this person at all, apart from the two times we traveled to Belfast to see his family and friends. Even then, I only remember the actual traveling part.

We had to live together a month after we had separated, during which time he constantly demanded to know why I’d left him. Simply, “I sobered up”. He had been the most violent, piggish creature of all the men I had ever been with, memories which have only been returning to me in the past year. Sometimes I think, he wasn’t looking for a partner, he was looking for a sex slave. And he still wasn’t as bad as the devil of my younger years.

Probably ‘coz I was really drunk the whole time.

So I’m 16 months sober, as of Saturday of this month. I still can’t sleep, I still have headaches and I’ve put on so much weight I can barely recognise myself. It’s bittersweet. I have achieved great things in my life, but I feel like a stranger looking in. I feel like a confused 12-year-old, shy with no confidence and no place in the world. Like the degrees I have are someone else’s, and sure I have my graduation pictures but that’s a different me. That’s not me, surely. My day job is, ironically, bartending. I know I’m fantastic at my persona, but the customers see through the cracks. They’ll ask me “What’s the nicest x? What mixer goes with y?”, and I can never just say “oh, it’s z”, I always have to say “other people usually have this with z”.

I don’t keep my alcoholism a secret, and most of my regular customers know. And I’ll get the typical diatribe of “oh aren’t you strong and brave, working here and struggling with your recovery??”. I know they mean well, and it’s a lovely compliment to pay. But I don’t feel strong, although it is cathartic when I get to pour drinks away. I feel like a failure.

I am a fully qualified English teacher in the process of doing my Master’s degree. Staying up til 3am cleaning, after spending 6 hours serving poison to toxic people (although a lot of my regular customers are genuine angels), makes me believe that, despite my achievements on paper, that that is all I’m worth.

I want to end this monologue on a positive note. In over a year of sobriety, I have learned to go out with my friends, or hang out after work, and not feel so left out. Coffee is now a luxury, opposed to a brown liquid to fix my constant hangover. I even know when coffee tastes burnt now, which is something my former self would never have even considered. I’m eternally grateful for my family of Alcoholics Anonymous. I haven’t been to a meeting in months due to work and uni, but every time I manage to go, it’s as if I’d not missed a single one.

My family have been nothing but supportive, although my dad still doesn’t really understand it (we were great drinking buddies for a while). My friends are mainly my colleagues at work, and without their support I wouldn’t be alive, most likely. Also they will refuse to serve me alcohol - not that I’ve tried, but I’ve been told so, in order to continue supporting my recovery.

Since being sober, I’ve surrounded myself with good people. The bad things don’t seem so bad, and every day I’m working on hating myself less.

Alcohol and/or substance abuse feels like something that won’t happen to you. Unfortunately, it can happen to all of us, and so very quickly. Or, so slowly that you didn’t even register it until you’re sleeping on a bench in the middle of February.

There is help, free help, and there are probably millions of people suffering too. If you’re suffering, you’re not alone. You never have to be alone.

https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/

https://www.samaritans.org/

#abuse #alcohlism #addicition #recovery

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blissedoutphil · 5 years

Text

Phil’s Road Trip Playlist

Thank you anon for the wonderful prompt, I hope you’re still around and I’m not too late at filling this! And I know you said fluffy and then sex but I got inspired to do something different so I’m sorry it doesn’t actually fulfil your prompt entirely :x but this could always mean a possible part 2 :~)

This is different from what I’m used to writing, I wanted to try something new and I really enjoyed it even if it doesn’t match up to my smut only fics lol. I hope you guys enjoy my first non-smut fic :)

7767 words of uni roommates!phan, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, songfic

Thank you for voting this to First Place in Undiscovered Fic category of the Phanficawards 2019 <3

or read on ao3!

“You alright?” Phil asked quietly, slinging his bag off his shoulder and dropping it to the floor before cautiously moving towards the motionless body in the bed opposite his.

His roommate didn’t answer him, just brought his blanket over his face.

Dan sighed. The only thing worse than sinking again is letting Phil see him sink again. He had tried. He’d tried to be better, stay better for the sake of Phil. If only so he wouldn’t have to see concern and worry and even sadness pool in those bright blue eyes. But sometimes he just couldn’t help falling back into the dark abyss of emptiness. What else could he do if everything is pointless anyways.

Dan felt the edge of his bed dip. He shut his eyes, not wanting to face the world. Not wanting to face his roommate and the fact that he’s a disappointment for letting his roommate down again. He knows Phil would never blame him, but deep down he blames himself for causing Phil so much worry.

Gentle hands pulled the blanket off his face. Dan blinked up, regretting it instantly when he saw Phil’s brows crease.

Phil hated seeing him like this. He knew that behind that lifeless stare was a warm hazel, full of wonder and awe. He loved seeing those eyes look back at him with excitement when they skip lectures for a movie, how they twinkle with hope when Phil assures him that everything will be fine in times when he couldn’t see anything positive in his future. Or in times when he couldn’t see himself even having a future at all.

“What happened?”

Whenever Dan was in this dark part of his mind, he just felt numb and emotionless. But Phil could simply say two words and suddenly his eyes stung with tears, his heart beat with fury and he felt too much all at once.

He wanted to answer Phil, wanted to yell at him, wanted to disappear. But he didn’t have the energy for any of that. All he could do was shrug and shut his eyes again.

Phil brushed away the curl that was covering Dan’s forehead. Dan can’t remember the last time he had a haircut, and he was sure that his messy tangled curls were definitely an unruly sight.

“Could you try to get up for me please? I know you haven’t eaten since yesterday and we should have lunch now,” Phil spoke softly, his words so full of care that Dan can’t deny his requests even if he wanted to.

Dan felt like his whole body was protesting as he tried to sit up. He’d been in bed since yesterday afternoon, and judging from Phil returning from school, it was probably past noon now. Still it didn’t feel like he’d had any rest at all. His mouth felt dry, but he didn’t have the appetite to eat or even drink.

“M’not hungry,” was all Dan managed to mumble out.

Phil bit his lip as he thought of how to coax Dan out of his bed. He knew that Dan always tried his best for him, even if he felt too exhausted to do anything. But he also didn’t want to push Dan too hard when he got like this. He took Dan’s hand in his.

Dan stared at his hand being sandwiched between Phil’s. Phil felt so warm around his cold hand. He slowly looked up at Phil quizzically.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Phil suggested softly.

Phil wasn’t a good driver; failed twice before finally getting his license and then never making use of it for a year after getting it despite having a car that was gifted to him by his parents for finally passing. Dan knew this and joked about how he would never risk his life being Phil’s passenger. But there was one day when Dan was falling into the darkness again, and he said something that stuck to Phil.

Dan talked about how he just wanted to feel free. The kind of freedom where he wouldn’t have to think about any responsibility he had, any failures or people he’d disappointed. The kind of freedom that he knew was temporary, but forgetting about his past and future to live in the moment would help him feel at peace even if just for a while until his mind was clear enough again to face his problems.

And Dan talked about how he’d feel that kind of fleeting freedom when he went on road trips. The vast fields and open skies as far as he could see down the never-ending road ahead gave him a sense of liberty. It shows him how big the world is, and how small his problems are in contrast. That there is so much more to life and what the world has to offer than his own worries and anxiety. And when he sees it that way, he’ll get more confident in trying to overcome his problems, instead of letting them eat him up instead.

Since then, Phil actually started practising his driving more. Dan was skeptical at first, but Phil insisted on driving him to campus one day. Dan thought he’d fear for his life, but it ended up being a really pleasant ride and he never made fun of his driving ever again.

“Where to?” Dan mumbled, staring at Phil’s thumb tracing circles on his hand.

“Anywhere. Nowhere, it doesn’t matter. But let’s just get out of here for a while,” Phil said, hoping for Dan to agree.

When Dan looked back up at Phil, all Phil could see was a cold, despondent stare that he was determined to bring warmth back into.

Dan’s whole body felt heavy, it was screaming at him to go back under the covers. But he looked at Phil, looked at his hopeful smile and his encouraging eyes. He already felt enough of a disappointment, he just couldn’t disappoint his best friend any further.

So Dan gave a small nod, making Phil’s whole face light up.

Phil quickly got up and grabbed a few pieces of clothing for both of them, shoving them into his backpack. Just in case. He didn’t know how long he’d need to drive before Dan felt better again.

When he was done packing, he turned back to Dan whose eyebrows were knitted together as he looked at him. He was probably wondering why Phil needed to pack, but he didn’t voice it out.

Phil came back to Dan’s bed and held onto Dan’s hands again. He gently pulled Dan up, and Dan pliantly allowed his body to be moved as Phil pleased.

“Let’s go,” Phil said excitedly, never letting go of Dan’s hand as he dragged his friend out of their room.

Dan immediately shut his eyes once he got settled in the car. The sun was blinding, and he felt like it was sucking whatever little energy he had left out of him. He just wanted to sleep. He trusted Phil to keep them both safe as he drove to wherever.

Phil looked over at Dan in dismay. He hoped that his plan would work, he just had to give Dan time. He was feeling hungry, having missed breakfast to attend his morning lecture and missed lunch to get back to Dan as soon as he could. So he decided to get them both food first.

Phil could tell that Dan wasn’t asleep because every now and then he would peek an eye open just to see where they were. So Phil knew that he wouldn’t be disturbing Dan if he filled the silence with music.

Dan’s brain was demanding him to sleep but shouting at him about all his worries at the same time. But through the loudness of his mind, he could still hear the song Phil started playing.

Sleeping is giving in No matter what the time is Sleeping is giving in So lift those heavy eyelids

The lyrics hit Dan, and he opened his eyes and looked at Phil. He wondered if Phil chose the song on purpose.

“Oh sorry did you wanna sleep? I can turn it off-”

“S’fine,” Dan interrupted, “but what are you playing?”

Phil tried to hide his joy. That was the most he’d heard his best friend speak at once in the past few days.

“It’s my road trip playlist!” he responded excitedly.

People say that your dreams are the only things that save ya Come on baby in our dreams, we can live our misbehaviour

Dan grunted in what he hoped Phil understood as an approval before facing away from him again. He leaned against the window, staring blankly at the cars passing by. He thought about how his dreams could save him, if only they were attainable.

Dan had zoned out after that, liking the buzz in his head more than the song forcing him to be self-aware. But as Phil slowed into a driveway, he tuned back into the present.

“What d’ya wanna get?” Phil asked, stopping behind a queue of cars.

Dan looked around and realised that Phil had entered a McDonalds drive-thru.

Dan shrugged, “Anything.”

Dan knew that Phil knows Dan’s go-to order at McDonalds anyway. And Phil knew that Dan knew that, but he was just trying to get Dan to talk.

A few minutes later, Phil was shoving a big bag onto Dan’s lap. The aroma of the food did stir Dan’s stomach up. It growled as Dan salivated. The thing about sinking into the darkness was that even if he was hungry, he’d be too preoccupied with fighting against the demons in his head to realise. But with the food now right on his lap, he suddenly couldn’t wait to eat. He looked over at Phil.

Phil smiled at him, it was the first time that day that Dan’s gaze was more than just a blank, dead one. Phil thought he looked kinda cute all wide-eyed silently asking if he could eat.

“Go ahead! I’ll find somewhere to park first,” he said as he drove into the carpark.

Dan looked into the bag. Phil had gotten him a quarter pounder with fries and a milkshake. Just as he liked it. He grabbed a couple of fries and started munching on them first.

When Phil was parked, they took their food out and laid it out as best as they could on the dashboard.

“How come we used the drive thru just to sit at the carpark?” Dan mumbled.

“Well I thought you wouldn’t want to enter the place with the crowd in there and all...” Phil rationalised.

“You’re right,” Dan mused, “I wouldn’t have liked that. Thanks.”

Phil smiled, glad he did make the right choice. He started digging into his big mac, but kept a watchful eye on Dan to make sure he ate too.

Dan was still slowly munching on his fries. When he noticed that Phil was glancing over at him, he wordlessly offered Phil some of his fries.

“It’s alright, I got my own,” Phil said with his mouth still full.

But Dan insisted, bringing the fries in his fingers closer to Phil’s face. Phil’s giggle was stifled when the fries were pushed into his mouth. Phil smiled as he chewed, happy that his friend was slowly feeling okay enough to show affection again. Dan didn’t even seem bothered that his fingertips were caught between Phil’s lips.

Dan quite liked feeding Phil. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he always got a sense of joy whenever he let his friend have a bite of his pizza, or fed him a forkful of pasta, or tilted his drink for Phil to take a sip. And it was nice to feel something other than emptiness as he fed Phil his fries this time.

Phil was aware how Dan liked to feed him when he was being in a cheeky mood. Dan didn’t seem to be doing this to be cheeky this time, but Phil was happy it’s happening all the same, and he’d accept however much food being fed to him to make his friend happy.

Dan alternated between eating his fries and giving some to Phil. He liked how Phil didn’t question him or make him stop, but just accepted his offer every time. When he eventually ran out of fries, he wiped his hand clean and looked out the window.

“You not gonna eat your burger?” Phil asked, wiping his mouth as he finished his own food.

Dan busied himself looking at a couple of kids laughing and running into the restaurant. Oh what fun it is to be young and free. He shook his head no.

Phil’s shoulders drooped a little. He’d thought that Dan was starting to feel better.

“’m full already,” Dan answered, “maybe later.”

“Okay,” Phil responded softly.

Phil started the car and slowly went out of the driveway. He drove aimlessly. He didn’t have a proper destination in mind, and he didn’t really care how long he’d have to drive or where they ended up as long as they were together and he’d have his Dan by the end of it. He saw the sign saying they were leaving Manchester, and decided to just continue driving south.

Phil’s road trip playlist started again, but the songs didn’t hit home as much as the first one, so Dan asked him to restart it.

People try and hide the light Underneath the covers

Dan stared out the window most of the ride. The weather was the opposite of his gloomy mood. The late afternoon sun was beaming down on them. He saw cows and sheep grazing lazily on the open fields. The clouds looked beautiful against the blue sky. For a fleeting moment, Dan let himself believe that life can be beautiful. He grabbed his milkshake, overwhelmed by the sudden thought. Perhaps the milkshake can give him a brain freeze that would numb him from overthinking for a while.

Now here's the sun, it's alright Lies, lies

Dan appreciated that Phil didn’t try to force a conversation out of him. Phil knew that he needed his space even while he needed someone to be there for him at the same time. He never thought anyone would get that, but Phil does. Phil understands him so well that it scares him as much as it comforts him sometimes. He sipped on his milkshake harder.

The song ended, Phil’s playlist moving on to a more upbeat pop song. Phil tapped along to the song on his steering wheel, humming at the chorus. Dan looked over at his friend. Phil seemed so content to just drive. Drive for no reason other than for Dan to clear his mind. Although it was his petrol and his time of day that Dan was wasting.

Phil looked back over just then, and smiled at Dan. Dan pursed his lips into a forced smile, even though he meant it in a genuine way. He just couldn’t understand why Phil would care for him this much.

“Why are you driving?”

Phil’s brows creased together.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you doing this? Don’t you have that assignment due soon? And your petrol-”

“Don’t worry about any of that Dan, you know I’m always here for you. I want to help you feel better, no matter what.”

Dan gulped. The sincerity in Phil’s voice scared him. He didn’t feel like he deserved such attention and care from anyone. He turned back to facing the road ahead. The unending path taking them to anywhere, nowhere. Taking them to wherever it is that Dan will supposedly feel better, before heading back.

Dan’s reaction worried Phil a little. He was afraid that Dan might’ve changed his mind about this road trip. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea all along, and Dan was just following along because he felt like he had to.

“We could always go back if you want?” Phil asked tentatively.

Dan looked surprised for a second, but he shook his head almost immediately.

“No, I like this. Thank you,” Dan murmured.

He wished he could show his gratitude better. Maybe when he felt better he’d repay Phil somehow.

“If you wanna go back at any time just tell me, alright?” Phil asked, still a little worried.

Dan nodded, proceeding to sip on his milkshake.

They fell into comfortable silence again. If only Dan’s mind could match the silence between them.

Dan started thinking about his latest episode and the main thing on his mind. A lot of times, his mood plummeted for almost no reason at all, but sometimes he’d have a clearer understanding of why it happened. Especially if his mind won’t stop reminding him about his main worry at the moment.

He stole glances at Phil. Phil, his roommate of 3 years since his first day of university. Phil, who quickly became his best friend. Phil, a year his senior who would be graduating in about a month. Phil, who had been by his side through everything he’d been through both good and bad.

He has no clue how he was going to survive his final year without Phil. Phil had been there for him through every breakdown he had in university. He’d quickly learned how to help Dan in such situations, and by now it’s like he knew just what Dan needed even if Dan didn’t know himself.

Pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-pro-paganda

Dan’s inner monologue was momentarily interrupted.

“How is this a road trip song?” he chuckled a little.

Phil didn’t care if it wasn’t an appropriate road trip song. If it made Dan laugh, even just a little, then it stays on the playlist.

“Okay I may not be the best at making playlists that follow the theme properly,” Phil giggled, “but I like this song!”

Dan can’t argue with Phil there, not when he looked so damn adorable with his tongue poking out as he giggled. He felt something flutter in his gut. Something he hadn’t felt in a while since he sank into his darkness. He can’t decide if he liked the feeling or not.

Dan can remember the times he’d felt the flutter in his stomach; there weren’t many before he met Phil. But with Phil, it could happen for the most random reasons and catch him off guard. Things that he never thought would affect him in the slightest would send the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy whenever Phil did it. Like right now. All Phil was doing was laughing. He’d miss that laugh very much.

Two hours passed, and they reached Birmingham.

“I gotta go pee,” Phil said urgently as he exited the highway and drove to the nearest petrol station.

They both used the restroom and Phil refilled his car’s petrol. Phil got some snacks and drinks, and then he was ready to go off again. But before that, he had to check in on Dan.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked softly.

Dan actually was starting to crawl out of his dark hole, but Phil’s question made him feel like crying. He wasn’t sure if it was in a good way or not. He just wanted to adjust the stray fringe drooping across Phil’s forehead.

“Mhm,” Dan managed to answer.

“So you wanna go back?”

Dan looked at the time. It was only a quarter past five. They had plenty of time. He had plenty of Phil’s time to waste.

“Not yet,” Dan admitted quietly.

Phil smiled softly, “Okay, let’s go then. Oh, and please eat your burger Dan, it’s probably gone cold.”

Dan had almost forgotten he still had food left, but he wasn’t hungry, so he’ll save it for later.

Dan thought that Phil’s playlist was a mess. It had lots of pop songs mixed in with some indie and rock songs, and even an edm song or two thrown in for the hell of it. But it was rather endearing how Phil just put whatever he liked. Dan, on the other hand, would have to analyse every single lyric of every song, would have to feel the correct emotions as the song plays, for it to be put in his themed playlists. He wished he could give less of a shit like Phil for these kind of things that ultimately don’t matter as long as you’re having fun in the end.

But a few of the songs in there really made Dan think. And those were the only ones he would actually approve of being in a road trip playlist.

If at some point we all succumb For goodness sake let us be young Because time gets harder to outrun And I'm nobody, I'm not done

Phil observed how Dan gazed far out into the fields. He thought about how Dan’s mind must be running a mile a minute, just like Dan once told him when he got like this. He wished he could hear Dan’s thoughts, if only so he could learn what he needs and how to help him better.

Phil very much preferred the rambly Dan over the silent Dan when he goes through tough times. Even though Dan could ramble on and on endlessly, his monologues were always so profound and Phil was always blown away by his intelligence. He loved having deep conversations with Dan. He always learned something new about Dan, their friendship, or even random facts. And he felt special that Dan was willing to open up to him so much.

But Dan was in a quiet mood now, and he’ll respect that even if it was killing him to know what Dan was thinking.

He recalled the first time Dan had a breakdown in their room. Frankly, Phil was afraid because he really hadn’t known what he could do to help. He’d listened to his friend speak out all his worries that he’d bottled up, and tried to calm him down, but it took about a week for Dan to feel like himself again.

We all got old at breakneck speed Slow it down, go easy on me

Phil thought about how when he met Dan, the teen was so shy and reserved, but as they grew closer and older together, he got to know just how amazing, kind hearted and intelligent he is.

He started thinking about all the moments that they’ve shared over the years in university. Not just big events, but even little everyday moments. Things that don’t seem special when done with other friends were greatly cherished when it was with Dan.

He remembered how after Dan spent the night crying over his overdue assignment that caused his first breakdown, he’d ordered McDonalds for their supper. Dan hadn’t eaten the entire day, and still refused to eat. Phil wasn’t sure what Dan would like, so he just ordered randomly. A quarter pounder with fries and a milkshake. They’d sat on their floor, Dan slowly eating his food while Phil talked animatedly about the squirrels and pigeons he saw on the way to campus. Just going on and on about trivial matters in the hopes of making Dan smile.

And they’ve had plenty of late night suppers over the years. Not all sad of course. Most were actually times they stayed up playing video games. Some nights were spent celebrating little victories like completing essays or passing a quiz. Phil was an introvert himself who didn’t really enjoy going out partying all the time, so he was delighted to have gotten a roommate who felt the same and wouldn’t judge him for turning down a night out. While their coursemates celebrated the end of exams in clubs, Dan and Phil would just have a quiet night in their room with a bottle of wine shared between them. Phil had quickly realised that he didn’t care about making more friends or hanging out with other people, he just wanted to be with Dan.

Phil thought about how they’d skip lectures just to hang out as if they don’t already see enough of each other in their room. How they’d sleep in after a movie marathon the whole night. How they’d mess up the entire pantry every time they tried to cook. How their study sessions in the library almost always ended up in some funny competition to get the other person to make a noise without getting caught. He was going to miss all those little moments, maybe even more so than the big events they went through together.

Phil can’t believe that 3 years with Dan flew by so quickly. He’d had some of the best times of his life with him, and they’d been through some of their toughest together. He sighed inaudibly when he realised just how much he’ll miss Dan when he graduates.

They soon drove past Slough. Phil wondered if they should stop by London, but Dan didn’t seem interested in stopping at all. Dan had dozed off for about half an hour, and when he got up his mood still didn’t seem to improve much. He did, however, start eating his burger.

Dan was peacefully eating but stopped when he realised they were in Slough.

“Please don’t tell me you’re driving me home,” he pleaded.

“No no I’m not,” Phil reassured him, trying not to read too much into how betrayed Dan sounded.

Cause it's cold outside, when you coming home Cause it's hot inside, isn't that enough

Phil loved going home. He was always homesick in university, that is until he met Dan. After Dan came into his life he still always wanted to go home of course, but less because he couldn’t cope living away from family and more because he was just always so eager to share with his family stories about him and Dan and their little adventures.

He’d even brought Dan home during a holiday once, because Dan didn’t want to go back to his own home and Phil couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Dan to spend his holiday alone in campus. His family had loved Dan, and even though Dan was nervous at first, Phil was happy to see how quickly he warmed up to them. Since then, Dan actually spent more holidays with Phil’s family than his own.

Phil never could quite empathise with Dan not liking going home. He did drive Dan back home for a holiday once, and Dan’s family seemed loving and welcoming. Dan had explained to him how his hometown was just filled with bad memories for him. Phil hoped that one day Dan would be able to overcome his past.

Dan visibly relaxed into his seat after Phil reassured him. He looked warily at the sign and the road exiting the highway and leading into his hometown. Dan recalled the first time he followed Phil home for the holidays, after much persuasion from Phil. His mom had sounded really upset over the phone when he informed her he wasn’t going home. But besides the guilt for upsetting his mom, Dan had had the most fun in years. He felt a lump in his throat as he thought about having to spend the holidays alone in campus after Phil graduates. He couldn’t possibly invite himself to Phil’s anymore, can he.

The evening sun gave off a beautiful golden gleam on the horizon. Through the side view mirror, Dan could see the golden hour making his skin glow, despite his eyebags and dark eye circles.

Fascination ends Here we go again

He turned to Phil. The sun brought out the colours of his eyes perfectly. Dan thought that Phil’s eyes were magical, with the way they seemed to change shades under the light. He even told Phil once just how mesmerising he found his eyes to be.

Phil would smile at Dan every time Dan turned to him. Dan took the moment to appreciate how the golden hues from the sun blended with the green-blue of Phil’s eyes. And then he realised that those eyes were looking back at his own tired, dull ones. Dan never imagined that he’d let himself look so disheveled in front of someone so perfect.

Dan decided to pay attention to Phil’s playlist instead of letting his mind fixate again. The beat of the music was throbbing.

I'm not in love I'm not in love I'm not in love

The already propulsive synths become unavoidably sweeping as the singer’s declaration sounds shakier each time he repeats it, as if it was getting harder and harder to convince himself the truth of the words he sang. Dan felt the singer’s emotional vulnerability in his bones, and it wasn’t helping him to stop fixating at all. In fact it did the complete opposite.

He’d never been in a relationship. Neither had Phil. It was a common topic between them - quiet conversations about how they both hope to find love one day. The kind of love that is unconditional, that won’t fade out but grow stronger as time goes on and they understand their partners better. But Dan wasn’t so sure that life could be such a fairytale. Who could love him unconditionally when he was so broken?

He recalled one conversation they had about what they looked for in a partner, and both of them listed characteristics that actually matched each other. Dan wasn’t sure if it was him overthinking that or if it was a coincidence, but Phil didn’t seem to connect the dots, so Dan had concluded that it was just him and repressed it.

And how was he meant to know what love felt like anyway? Were the butterflies in his stomach a sign or are those just short-lived feelings? Where’s the line that crosses between merely caring for someone and actually being in love with them and when do you know that you’ve crossed it?

He rubbed his eyes and wondered if being in love was meant to hurt.

Phil was alarmed when he turned to Dan and noticed that Dan was tearing up. One moment Dan was just gazing at him passively and the next it seemed that he was trembling slightly.

“You alright, Dan?” he voiced his concern.

Dan wanted to respond, but he knew that if he allowed himself so much as to say one word, he’d start bawling, or throwing up his burger. He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to nod his head.

Phil knew by now that Dan was lying, but he also knew not to push Dan too hard if he didn’t want to speak. He knew that Dan would tell him in time. So he just reassured Dan that he’ll be there to listen if Dan decides to talk.

Dan nodded again, turning to look out the window instead. He blinked furiously, not letting his tears fall. He watched the horses running along the fields to calm himself down.

Realisation is always the easy part. It’s the acceptance after that that is harder to conquer. Denial would be more tempting, but Dan knows that won’t be good for him in the long run. He’d burst eventually; all his bottled up emotions will overflow as regret takes over and he could no longer deny his feelings.

But how was he to accept? Deep down, he knew that he’d realised long ago, and that he was quietly in denial all along. Because what other option does he have?

Phil only had a month left before graduating. Before packing up all his stuff in their room and moving out to start the new chapter in his life. And leave this chapter behind, with Dan in it.

Dan had trouble enough accepting that his best friend was leaving soon, how was he supposed to accept the fact that he had feelings for him? And how was he supposed to admit it if the feelings weren’t mutual?

We are not in love We are not in love We are not in love We are not in love

Actually Dan wasn’t sure if it was mutual or not. Sometimes he would catch Phil looking at him in a way that Dan can’t find the words to describe, but it would make his heart skip a beat. Their friends always turned heads whenever Phil invited Dan to his home for the holidays. Phil would almost always rather be with Dan than anyone else, even if he’d already spent the entire week alone with him, but Dan doesn’t know if it’s because he’s just being nice to him or if he’s that introverted. Dan wasn’t able to discern if Phil was just a super caring friend or if he went out of his way for Dan all the time because he actually loved him back. Where is that line?

But the nasty thought at the back of his mind told him that he’s overthinking all those little moments. There’s no way Phil could love him back, especially when he’s more often a burden than a friend. Like right now, when Phil could be resting or completing his assignment, but he’s out here doing the best he can to help Dan feel better instead.

Dan looked at the road signs. They were only less than an hour away from Brighton. He wondered what Phil would do next to help him once the road ends. He needed to start feeling better, for Phil’s sake.

When they reached Brighton, Phil drove to a less touristy part of the beach and parked.

“Let’s get ice cream,” he said, his smile reaching his eyes.

When Dan didn’t answer immediately, Phil tried again.

“C’mon, we gotta at least get out and stretch!! We’ve been cooped up in here too long.”

So Dan agreed, and his knees cracked as he stood up outside the car. Phil stretched his arms and sides, sighing in contentment.

They could hear the waves and smell the salty waters of the English Channel. The sun was going lower on the horizon, the golden hour making the seaside even more beautiful than the plains.

Dan quietly followed Phil to the nearest ice cream shop. Phil walked so close that their hands brushed, and even as Dan blushed, he could tell that Phil didn’t care.

The look on Phil’s face when he got his ice cream was almost enough to make Dan forget his plight. Phil’s smile was contagious, and Dan found himself smiling a little as well while they walked to a quieter part of the beach to enjoy their ice cream.

Phil plopped himself down on the pebbles, and Dan sat a little more gracefully. Phil sighed happily. It took him little to be happy. All he needed was his best friend by his side, a good ice cream and the beautiful sunset as the waves crashed in front of them. He licked his salted caramel ice cream.

When he turned to Dan, to no surprise, Dan was offering him his ice cream. Phil smiled and tasted his friend’s strawberry ice cream before letting him taste his too. Phil’s smile faltered a bit when he realised just how much he’s going to miss peaceful moments like this with Dan. He had to cherish them while they last.

“Feeling better?” Phil checked in again.

“Yup,” Dan said honestly. Now that his mind was clearer on what’s been bugging him recently and now that he’d accepted his feelings, he did feel better. He felt like he didn’t need to numb his emotions anymore. He was free from his dark hole, if just for this moment.

“That’s good, I’m glad the road trip worked,” Phil said cheerfully.

Dan felt a somewhat bittersweet feeling. The crashing of the waves and the seagulls above them were the only sounds breaking their peaceful silence. A couple of people strolled by occasionally, and there were some kids running along the coast with their dogs. Dan thought about how fortunate he was, that he could be anywhere in the world with anyone, but fate placed him with Phil watching the sunset by the beach. He did not want to think about how different his life and his university experience would’ve been if Phil didn’t end up as his roommate.

“Thank you,” Dan said in a small voice.

“It’s alright,” Phil smiled as he ate the last bit of his ice cream cone. He scooted closer to his friend.

“I’m not just talking about the road trip, or the ice cream,” Dan explained, sensing that Phil didn’t quite understand.

Phil tilted his head a little, indicating that he’s listening for Dan to continue.

“Thank you, for driving all the way here. For always being so patient and understanding with me, and dealing with my shit. Even if you don’t get why I think certain things the way I do, like how a drive could help me, you still do them anyway for me. You didn’t have to waste your money or time but you’re so selfless like that and just. Thank you.”

Phil was caught off-guard. Dan did show him appreciation whenever he helped him out of his episodes, but he never really said it with such raw emotion before. Dan’s voice cracked, wavered as he spoke. Phil wanted to say that it’s fine, he was always more than happy to help, but Dan wasn’t done.

“Thank you for. For knowing what I need when even I don’t know what I need. I don’t know how you do that. And thank you for all the times you stood by me when you could’ve gone to your other friends, and for never leaving me alone. For-”

“Dan, your ice cream,” Phil interrupted.

Dan’s ice cream was melting down his fingers, but he didn’t care.

“Thank you for making me feel. When I feel nothing at all, when I’m too numb, you just show up and be you and I feel alive again?” Dan wasn’t even sure if he’s making sense now.

His vision was blurring. He’d spent countless nights with Phil just talking about how he felt all the time, but he’d never really spoken at length about just how much he appreciated Phil. Phil deserved to know what an amazing friend he is, and Dan was now frustrated for not letting Phil know it enough. But he felt vulnerable as he continued speaking, like he’s finally opening all of himself up for Phil to see.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you, Phil,” Dan whispered into his melted ice cream, trembling as he finally let his tears flow free.

“Oh Dan...” Phil whispered, quickly wiping the ice cream off Dan’s messy hand with a napkin.

He then pulled his shaking friend into a tight hug, bracketing his legs around Dan’s thighs and effectively removing any space between them.

“You’ve grown so much in the years I’ve known you, and I know that you’re gonna do just fine,” Phil rubbed his hand on Dan’s back as he spoke into Dan’s ear.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Dan’s voice cracked again.

Phil tucked Dan’s head under his chin. Dan fisted at Phil’s shirt as he let his tears fall onto Phil’s chest.

“I’m gonna miss you too, more than you imagine,” Phil started tearing up too.

“But it’s alright, Dan, because we still have a month before I graduate,” Phil said as he pulled away from Dan and lifted his chin so he could look him in the eyes, “And I’ll never forget you or leave you behind after uni.”

Dan looked up and saw nothing but sincerity and certainty in Phil’s eyes. He almost dared himself to believe that nothing would change after Phil was done with uni. But he knows that that’s impossible. Especially if he tells Phil his true feelings.

He was still afraid of how Phil would react. This could ruin everything they had, but Dan was willing to take the risk. He’d gone too many sleepless nights just thinking and denying and bottling up everything about how he felt for Phil. He reckoned that now more than ever was a good time to admit it and then seek closure no matter the outcome.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Dan whispered almost bitterly.

“Why not?” Phil knitted his brows.

“Because.”

Phil patiently waited. Gave Dan time to voice out what he had in mind. He gently carded his hand through Dan’s matted curls.

Dan breathed in deep. Phil running his hand on his scalp helped him calm down but also made him more afraid to continue speaking. It could possibly be the final touch of affection he’d ever get from Phil, and he wanted it to last.

When he couldn’t drag it out any longer, he dared himself to look Phil in the eyes as he said his next few words.

“Because I love you, Phil.”

Dan felt like a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, but felt his throat and chest tighten up at the same time. He felt free of the secret that’s been eating him up, but the seconds that passed waiting for Phil to respond were filled with dread. He wanted to look away, too ashamed of possibly ruining their friendship, but he couldn’t because Phil’s intense gaze was locked on to his.

As Dan spoke those words with such a painful honesty in his voice, Phil felt as if his heart stopped. He’d never imagined Dan ever saying those words to him. He always thought that he’d been overreacting when things Dan did made his breath hitch, or his stomach come alive with butterflies. He always thought Dan was just super affectionate and would be the same with other friends too. He always liked to think he was special, even if he knew he wasn’t.

But now that Dan has said it, it confirmed that his gut feelings were right after all. All those times he refused to admit to himself that he may be falling for his roommate suddenly seemed so silly. The pain in Dan’s eyes made it seem like he had been so afraid of admitting this, as if he was expecting Phil to run away in disgust. Phil wanted to fix that immediately.

“Oh my god, Dan, I never thought you’d feel the same.”

Dan blinked, not sure if he heard Phil right. There’s no way Phil felt the same for him. The setting sun made the gold-blue of Phil’s eyes glisten beautifully and Dan watched as tears slowly start to fall down Phil’s cheeks, mirroring his.

“I love you too, Dan. There’s no one I’ve ever cared for as much as I do for you,” Phil said brokenly, trying to breathe properly through his crying.

Dan was still in a state of shock. He let himself be wrapped by Phil’s arms as he took in Phil’s words. He was prepared to be left at the beach by a repulsed ex-roommate. But here he was instead, loosely hugging Phil’s waist while being in Phil’s warm embrace.

“You...?” was all Dan answered.

“Yes, Dan, I wasn’t ever gonna say it because I thought you never felt the same,” Phil said, laughing a little at how silly that sounds now.

Phil couldn’t stop crying from joy, he didn’t even know he could cry from happiness this much. He hugged Dan tighter, never wanting to let go.

Dan shook his head in disbelief. Slowly, his lips turned up into a smile. And for the first time in a while, he smiled a genuine smile, finally feeling truly happy.

“The whole week... it was because of this?” Phil said, pulling back from the hug but holding onto Dan’s shoulders.

“...yeah, I’m in love with you but I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we already have,” Dan admitted, finding it so easy to say it now that Phil’s said it too. He felt like he didn’t ever want to stop saying it now.

“I can’t believe we’re like this,” Phil laughed.

Dan laughed too. In hindsight, they both know each other so well already, so they should’ve seen this coming. They should’ve known and trusted their instincts, but who would’ve known that they were both too scared to admit the same thoughts all this while.

They sat there laughing for a while, at how unreal it was that this was how they found out. That this was how they realised they were in love. And in love with each other. Sitting by the beach miles away from where they first met, in front of a beautiful sunset. All because Dan was too numb to feel after feeling too much.

“I promise you, Dan, I’ll never leave you. Not after graduation, not ever for as long as you want me by your side,” Phil said, cupping Dan’s cheeks and thumbing away the stray tears.

“Forever sounds good,” Dan whispered as he smiled up at Phil.

It felt like it happened in slow motion but too fast at the same time, when they both instinctively moved closer. Dan could feel Phil’s breath on his nose but his mind barely had time to register what was happening before he was closing his eyes and feeling Phil’s lips against his.

Dan squeezed Phil’s waist as they kissed. He felt his heart soar right out of his dark abyss. Phil’s hands never left his cheeks, and his lips felt like home. Dan found comfort in this strange sense of familiarity in the new beginning upon them.

Phil can’t count the number of times he’d wished he could kiss Dan on his hands. His heart was beating rapidly as he pressed his lips against Dan’s, he can’t believe he was finally getting his wish. It felt right, like they were meant to fit each other. Dan’s lips was soft against his, and he thinks that he could never get enough of it.

They pulled back when they needed air. Phil could finally see the life in Dan’s eyes again. The sun was almost completely set, but the last few rays it was leaving behind illuminated the hazel in Dan’s eyes. Phil thought that he looked absolutely beautiful, wet cheeks and all.

Dan’s mind was still running a mile a minute, but with all good thoughts now. He wondered what this now means for them, where they’d be headed from now on. But they would figure things out. He knew they’d be by each other’s side through anything just like they’d always been, and that’s all that matters.

“Are we going back now?” he asked, feeling Phil’s breath against his lips.

“We’ve only just got here, we’ve got time,” Phil said, unable to contain his smile.

songs featured from Phil’s road trip playlist:

Rebellion (Lies) - Arcade Fire

Propaganda - Muse

Wetsuit - The Vaccines

Not In Love - Crystal Castles

(in order, new song after each line break except Propaganda)

do tell me what you think! :) maybe I could try venturing into more non-smut, or maybe I should stick to smut only lmao

#phan #Phanfic #songfic #fluff #angst #My fic #phan fic #friends to lovers #phil's road trip playlist

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