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#because I wasn’t conscious enough to stress about anything I just had to Do Things

grapejuicestyless · 8 months

Note

conrad and fem!reader were bestfriends growing up but they were always in love. (reader is a conklin) they were both in love but they were both so oblivious to each others love (Susannah always knew hehe) I was thinking this could be inspired by ‘back to you’ by selena gomez

basically when susannah dies conrad lashes out on yn and says like the worst thing you can think of but then tries to kiss her and yn is so freaked out that they don’t see each other for years. After yn finishes college everyone reunites at the summer house and Conrad and yn finally realize what’s been right in front of them.

i know this is a lot but your writing is so beautiful especially with Conrad. thank u <3 🙏🏻

Back To You

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff

Summery: The request above^^^ I tried to stay as close to what was requested I hope this is okay! <3

The waves hit the wooden poles underneath our feet in a soft pattern. The thrashing of them shaking the dock just enough that you could feel it rocking. It was calming, breaking the silence that settled between my oldest son and I. Conrad had been off all spring, part of me connected it to his old ex girlfriend breaking it off with him, but that was just what I told myself because the thought that Conrad knew what was going on, something I swore I would keep hidden until it had to be know, made me sick with guilt. How my condition was weighing him down.

I took him out to the old dock just for one on one time. He used to love it out here at night. The way the stars illuminated the sky in their different patterns, the way even with them shifting, the constellations always found their way to stick together in the sky for a few weeks at a time. He loved the feeling of the damp wooden bench beneath his legs and how close we could cuddle up out here. He always loved it just being us.

“What’s going on, Connie?” My words were soft, in no way pushing him to open up any fresh wounds. He seemed wound up, his light dampened. I wanted to figure it out, I wanted to help him. The Conklin’s would be down here by morning and I worried that if left unresolved, it could bubble into a mess.

“Hm?” He acted confused, completely unaware to what I meant. I knew my son better than that though. He was always far too smart to play dumb.

“What’s got you down?” I put on my best smile, trying to squint my eyes to make them as welcoming as I could. My Conrad was never the most open with his feelings. He hated to be vulnerable. He told me once when he was younger that he felt if he was ever truly honest, the words would never be able to have been taken back. By saying things he didn’t say, by pushing people away, it gave him a good distance to build up the courage to make amends again. It gave him the time to choose when he was ready to open up his heart to whoever he wanted. He was always so conscious with things like that. Always thinking things through before doing them. It was funny how much a contrast he was with his feelings compared to Jeremiah. My spontaneous son who had no fears about regretting anything. Using his charm to get his way through life.

Laurel once joked that she believed Conrad’s eyes were so much darker because they held much more fear than Jeremiah’s. He was consumed by it. At the time we laughed, but now I was beginning to believe she was right. Here I was, preparing for a death nobody knew was coming and still, after nearly two decades of fighting and loving, I still was stuck at that distant arms length Conrad held me at.

He ignored the question, looking out to the sky. He knew he could’ve lied to me, could’ve made up something about his old heartbreak. How he was stressed with school. Anything to at least let me be able to give my support, even if it wasn’t in the areas he needed it. Conrad knew me like I knew him, though. Bound not only by blood but by love. There was no great excuse he could make that I wouldn’t pick up on. Mothers know everything, it’s our job.

My hands shook, partly from the cold and half from the disease working it’s way into my system. He shuttered sun my fingers wrapped around his, lips pressing to the back of his hand and my thumb smoothing over his skin to keep it stuck there.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, okay? When you feel like you need to say something, you don’t have to overthink it with me, okay? I’m your mom. I’ll love you no matter what’s going on in that mind of yours.” I saw the way his mouth twitched upward, a faltering smile so weak it was barely there. His eyes shinned in the moonlight, illuminated by the stars and the fireflies zipping by.

“Thank you, Mom.” He was honest then. I knew it by the way he said it. Like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He didn’t avoid my gaze, but held it firmly.

He crashed into me like one of the gentle waves into the dock. Arms wrapping around me in the biggest hug he’d given all year to me. His fingers dug into the back of my blouse, holding onto me for dead life in a way. He seemed desperate to be close to me.

A deep sigh left his nose, tickling the skin on my neck and down my back. I almost laughed at the feeling, but held it in to prolong the moment we were sharing. Soon, we would both be leaving whether we liked it or not, it was certain. I hoped that in the attempt to have one last perfect summer, Conrad and I could become closer. That we could all find a sense of happiness.

That sense came a few hours later. A wish being fulfilled without any extra begging. By now the moon was long gone, hiding beneath the horizon, the birds alive and singing. The children playing on nearby beaches and the whooshing of speeding cars passing the driveway.

Each part of the home was set up in the way I had hand picked it to be. My favorite flowers resting on the mantle and a bowl of the freshest fruits in the center of the kitchen countertops. The air was clean and crisp, blowing through the cracked window over the sink. It was cooling and refreshing, the outsides sounds seeping into the calm quiet of the house.

“They’re here!” My youngest shouted, heavy elephant feet stampeding down the stairs in pure excitement. I felt my own feet pick up from under me to jog outside. Summer was beginning.

The familiar silver car sat parked out by the bushes in the front, the engine still cooling and the sound of the car shutting off echoing through the area. The wheels moved from side to side, leaning closer to the ground to help give as the four missing pieces of Cousins announced their arrival.

Steven was the first to let his presence be known. His long, scrawny body stretching up after a long drive, an exaggerated groan becoming dragged out to truly emphasize how long their trip was. Jeremiah barely let him step away from the car before they were messing around, his arms wrapped around Steven in a welcoming hold. Their catching up was loud and joyful, jokes spewing off of their tongues without any extra effort.

Belly and Laurel came next, piling out of opposite sides of the car. Belly had occupied the passengers seat and Laurel the back right one. Both skipped the long stretch and made their way closer to their respected friends.

It was when Belly started making her way over to Jeremiah and Steven, giving an excited wave that I saw just how much she had changed. Her hair was longer, straighter. It fell just below her chest, shiny and thick. Her eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than last summer and her teeth had finally straightened enough to ditch the braces. It seemed like she was the center of attention for everyone because of these changes. Jeremiah swooning, hearts of eyes and Steven choosing to react in pure disgust, their playful teasing died down behind Laurels approaching voice.

“This has been a long time coming.” She sighed contently, arms already wrapping around me, feet in lifting from side to side to away smoothly. My hands rubbed along her back. She pulled away after a moment, observing the area, watching our kids. I saw her eyebrows furrow in confusion, almost like she was sad. I knew what it was.

Even in all this happiness, in all the reuniting and teasing, two very vital people remained missing. Y/n and Conrad.

While Belly and Jeremiah had an unbreakable bond that could carry any room, it never was really complete without Conrad and Y/n. To put it simply, even if Belly and Jeremiah were as great as they could be, Conrad and Y/n were the blueprint. They were the glue. No summer was truly starting until they were doing something irresponsible or stupid. One of them in a coughing fit, the other laughing themselves into one.

My lips drew themselves into a tight lipped smile, eyes finding the sky above. I swallowed. The words were in the tip of my tongue, the confession about what was happening with Conrad. What I believed was happening. I was getting ready to spill my guts about why Conrad wasn’t rushing out here. How he had been off all summer, and it was like he could hear me.

“Conrad!” The car door swung open so fast, I thought it might’ve snapped off with the force of it. It shook the car, slamming even harder than it had opened. The voice, still as sweet as I remember it being, belonged to Y/n.

She looked exasperated, hair a mess, cheeks flushed. Like she’d just woken up from a messy sleep. Her lips were bitten raw, and her shirt hung off her shoulder, unlike Belly’s that fit perfectly. But she was a ray of sunshine. She glowed like the brightest star in the sky. Her smile was infectious, spreading onto my best friend and I’s faces subconsciously. She truly captured the essence of pure happiness, the one I wanted so badly to feel this summer.

Heavy footsteps grew louder and louder behind me until a gust of wind was passed, the footsteps meeting their owner. Conrad, the moody, hurting boy who was completely shut away just hours ago was now running into the arms of his best friend. Of the girl he loved most.

They connected in the middle, the force of it making Y/n squeak. It didn’t stop them from tangling themselves up like they always seemed to do, Conrad’s back bent backwards and Y/n’s feet of the ground. They spun in circles, laughing the entire time. Even being limited to short glances at Conrad’s face while they spun, I could see the light in his face returning. The way his cheeks turned pinker and his eye bags seemed to get less heavy. He would never admit it, but it looked like he had gotten ready for her arrival. He no longer wore a plain grey zip up and old stained sweatpants. He wore Y/n’s favorite blue shirt he owned and matching shorts. She claimed he looked his best in that shirt because it fit him so well. Not too tight, but not too loose. He looked out together enough to go anywhere, but could remain comfortable. She’d even gone so far last summer to say it made him look handsome, something she confessed while drunk, clinging into her best friend and giggling under her breath.

I knew Conrad would never admit he chose the shirt just because he remembered that specific moment, but it was fairly obvious. At least to me. He always had the ability to pinpoint specific events, precise moments that involved something Y/n had done or said. He knew what she hated and what she loved. He put in more effort to make her see him than anyone else I’d ever known. It was endearing to see how much he cared for her.

More than that, it was like a storm had passed, Conrad’s grumpy attitude dissolving into one of pure sunshine and playfulness. He held no fear with her. Everything he did, everything he said, he knew it could be said with confidence. She was the one thing in this world he never felt ashamed to say what he needed to around. The only thing he never shared, his feelings. How he was so in love with her, his summers became dedicated solely to seeing her every second he could.

Secret sleepovers, long bonfire nights and early mornings on the beach. There was not more than a few hours that they weren’t together everyday. It was disappointing to see how he couldn’t share that, as Y/n so clearly felt the same for him.

Her eyes always looking for his face in a crowded room, her hands reaching out to feel he was there constantly. She needed him in more ways anyone could ever need a friend, she showed it, but they somehow always managed to shut down these feelings behind their insecurities of being wrong.

Jeremiah didn’t even get a chance to make his way over to talk with Y/n before she was being led away by his older brother, feet struggling to keep up behind him while he dragged her into the house. The thumping of their feet hitting the stairs sounded through the front door, their laughter and yelling echoing down the hall until his door slammed to a shut. I couldn’t help but laugh, Laurels own giggles stifled underneath mine. It was so obvious how much they cared for each other, yet so frustrating that they never acted on it.

The two of them always chased and chased, no aware that they were both aiming for the same thing. It was sweet to see puppy love like that. One so pure that they couldn’t even admit the feelings they so strongly felt for each other. Something they’d held since childhood, living in complete oblivion since.

The sun was high in the sky, a bright burning ball sizzling it’s mark into all of our skin. I could practically see Conrad’s shoulders peeling beneath its strong rays already. I had warned him to put on a rash guard, knowing he wouldn’t reapply. But he was so excited to catch up to Y/n, my words fell deaf on his ears. She was already out in the water with Belly and Steven, splashing around, laughter echoing as she grabbed what looked like mounds of wet sand from the bottom of the ocean to cover Belly with.

“Connie, you’re going to regret it later.” I had said, all to familiar with the distant sounds of his whining in the middle of the night. Conrad’s back sore and the aloe vera sticking to the warm sheets. But in that moment, the cringe worthy memory seemed to slip his mind as nothing was more important than getting to Y/n. He waved me off, promising to be careful but not really meaning it.

They were out there for hours that day. The waves were calm and the seaweed was relatively clear. The two of them, Y/n and Conrad, spent the perfect conditions submerged so deep into the water that when they reached land again, they complained how their legs felt like jelly. Conrads shoulders were bright red, torched by the beach day. I could see how they ached, just like I had said they would. Y/n’s cheeks and forehead were tinted a harsh red but she seemed completely unaware. Unbothered.

Conrad had pointed out how she had freckles on her face she didn’t have before. It was obvious how he thought she was beautiful, even then. I guess looking back on that memory, it was more clear that even at such a childish age, Conrad somehow always managed to pay the most attention to Y/n. Always the most observant of her tiniest details and mannerisms. Things he hadn’t even thought about in the others.

I didn’t let them sleep upstairs that night. I made sure to proclaim my love to them, but made it known I cherished my sleep more. Really, it was their own fault. Conrad had been warned to take precautions and those were blatantly ignored by the both of them.

I remember this day not because of how great the morning was, the summer breeze blowing in all its glory, but because of how the night had turned out to be.

The clocks hands were just passing the point that separated the late night and early morning. My blankets I had left for the kids spread across the large couch. The blankets were sticking to Conrads back and the aloe was rubbing off with each movement he made. I knew he was trying to muffle his whines, not wanting to be a bother, not wanting to wake his tired mother. I still heard it, and the rolling around became constant listening to the faint complaints from downstairs. It felt impossible to settle down at the time for Conrad, the soft melodic ticking of the kitchen clock only a reminder to how late the night was growing. Of how much time he had left before he was expected to be up and enjoying the day again. I remember feeling hopeless for him, he felt like crying.

It was the soft touch of fingers curling over his biceps carefully that pulled him from his descent into madness and silenced his cries. If it were anyone else, the sudden feeling of skin on skin would’ve scared him, sent him running upstairs into my arms like always. But the sensation was one he knew well. That and the shiny blue nail polish on her nails.

“Conrad, what’s wrong?” Her voice was soft, worrisome. It almost made him feel insecure, stupid in how he was getting ready to enter fourth grade and still couldn’t get over the ache of a stupid sunburn. Conrad should’ve felt pathetic, in his eyes. If it were Belly, or Steven or even Jere, he probably would’ve. But this was Y/n. His best friend! He knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about with her, she would never judge him.

“Is it your sunburn again?” She knew the answer, but always wanted to make sure. All it took was the slow nod of his head for her to lift herself off of the makeshift bed she’d made on the couch, the soft padding of her sock clad feet becoming more distant the farther she went into the house. In that moment, he felt confused, wondering if she was leaving him too. If his whining was even too much for her.

But, no. She came back with more aloe vera. A new bottle from the very back of the fridge. Conrad remembered how gentle she was when putting it on his back for him. It was feathery light, pressure changing depending on how severe the burn was. Even at such a young age, Y/n knew just what Conrad needed to make him feel better. It was like her sixth sense. Conrad had told me that morning, his heart couldn’t help but warm at that idea. That she had a special power just for him. He described it like waking up from a hazy dream.

A realization dawning on him after it had been forming for years. Y/n wasn’t just some girl Conrad enjoyed spending all my time with because she was simply just his best friend, but because deep down he loved her more than that. He knew he always felt something for her. Even when we were toddlers. The way she always shared with him, stuck by his side. At the time, Conrad acted annoyed by her presence, but he always secretly loved having her so close. He babbled about it in his sleep. He would slur how he felt safer, warmer, happier. Even his dumb little fourth grade self could see that those feelings weren’t ones someone had for a best friend. Those were feelings reserved for someone you loved. He knew then that he had always loved Y/n, now was just the first time he confronted those feelings.

When the sun rose, I was met with a goopy mess spilling all over the coffee table and a shiny back and Y/n’s wet hand. I could put the pieces together, but back then, Conrad made sure I didn’t have to.

That morning, while Y/n showered to get ready for the day, he went into depth about what had happened that led to the mess. How he felt, what was happening. At the time, I believed it was merely a small crush that he amounted to true love because he had never felt love before, but the longer I observed the pair, the more obvious it became that my little boy was in love with his best friend.

For Y/n, the day of realization came much later.

I remember the day clearly. Laurel and I had been insisting on a much needed a girls day, folding twenties into Conrad and Y/n’s palms and placing them in charge of the younger siblings of the bunch. Conrad being the oldest Fisher and Y/n the eldest Conklin, it wasn’t unusual that we would place our trust in them, tasking them with the job of keeping everyone in check for a day.

They’d decided to go to the boardwalk, the day too beautiful to not enjoy it. When arriving, the group had agreed to split up and conquer. Conrad would take Belly to the ring toss and Y/n would take Jeremiah and Steven to the go-karts. Everyone would meet back up in two hours for ice-cream and swap groups.

Y/n spent nearly all her money that day on those stupid go-karts. She’d only ridden them once, but Jeremiah and Steven kept begging to go again, again and again. Y/n was always such a softy, despite her confident exterior. Especially when it came to her younger friends. She couldn’t say no to them, they were just too convincing. When they met back up as a group, she complained, having a headache from the loud engines of the ride. She had eight dollars left in her pocket. Conrad had a large smile on his face and a polar bear named, Junior Mint, held loosely in his arms that he’d won after Belly begged him for it.

The looks on their faces made Y/n jealous, in a way. A feeling she knew shouldn’t be feeling when the situation involved her sister and her best friend. Two people she adored more than life itself. But Y/n, no matter how compassionate and understanding as she might be, like the rest of us, can’t control how we feel. We can only control how we reflect them.

“You have fun on the go-karts?” Conrad, who had somehow sensed her bad mood, had made race car sounds with his mouth, holding his arms out in front of him like he was turning a steering wheel in an attempt to lift it. Y/n’s hand hit his chest playfully, feet dragging along the wooden floor beneath their feet.

“The most.” She lied to him then, she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she didn’t want him to feel bad for leaving her alone. She wanted him to be able to enjoy his day without having to worry about someone else.

When the time came to pay for their ice cream, it became apparent that the left over eight dollars would not be enough for three of the ice creams. Jeremiah and Steven insisted on getting the largest sizes possible, resulting in a grand total of almost the entire budget. Even if Y/n got a kiddy cup, she wouldn’t have enough to spend for a third cup.

Holding the money in her hands and looking back at the excited boys behind her, Y/n felt responsible to keep them that way. Happy. After all, she was the oldest. It was her job to look after them. To put their happiness above her own. She spent all her money on what they wanted that day, walking over to the table they’d picked over in the shade empty handed, disappointed in the lack of a cold treat to snack on after a long day.

Everyone was sat across from her, the table full of everyone except Conrad, who was ordering for him and Belly. Y/n’s hands became the most interesting thing to her for a brief period of time. The peeling paint on the table a good distraction from her two friends stuffing their faces with something she so desperately wanted.

“One vanilla ice cream cone for Belly!” She heard Conrad’s voice before I saw him. Her younger sisters eyes practically formed into hearts when he placed the dessert in front of her. He continued to announce the order.

“One mint chip for me and…” Conrad slipped a cup of mint chip ice cream in front of her next, the spoon lime green to match the melting treat below her.

“One for Y/n/n!” He sat beside Y/n then, mixing around the green ice cream until it turned into mush. Y/n lifted her eyes from the table to his face. It was stuffed with his own treat, a satisfied smirk directed towards his best friend. Y/n’s mouth was parted open, stuck like that for the longest time. It was only when Conrad had motioned at the ice cream that she realized it was still under the very hot sun, and melting more now.

With a silent whisper of a thank you, Y/n let the gift cool her down. It tasted sweeter knowing it was from Conrad, Y/n had confessed to me that night. Knowing that he cared enough to know how sad she would be to have been the only one without ice cream to finish off a fun afternoon.

He was always so sweet to her, always going out of his way to make sure she was included in everything. He didn’t have to, but he liked too. That’s what made Y/n like him the most. It didn’t matter what was happening, or who was involved. If Y/n was there, Conrad would be stuck to her side like glue, just like she was to him. He had some magic spell over her that no one else could even come close to.

Conrad always had a way to cheer her up, make Y/n feel like the most special person in the world. She never felt ashamed to be my most vulnerable self around him. He made her heart beat faster, her cheeks flush pink. He made Y/n feel pretty, wanted. More than that, Conrad never failed to give her butterflies.

These were all things she could connect with things someone could have with a best friend, someone close to them. She could convince myself as well as herself it was nothing more than that. Conrad was only a friend to her, but she couldn’t lie to herself anymore than she could lie to me.

Deep down, Y/n always knew she loved Conrad differently than everyone else. She could recognize his laugh anywhere, Y/n knew he had a lucky pair of socks and a least favorite pair of underwear. She knew he liked to part his hair down the middle, but how it trailed off to the left the further back it grew because he used to have a side part when he was younger. Y/n knew his glasses gave him a headache and how he didn’t really mind the feeling of sand stuck in his skin after a beach day. These were all things Y/n would’ve never given a second thought about with anyone else, but things her heart held onto like a prayer because it was Conrad.

Slowly but surely, she came to terms with my feelings developed for Conrad, ones I’d known about vaguely for years as the pair grew closer and closer each passing second since Conrad’s own revelations. Only, before, Y/n used to downplay them as a small crush. One she was developing because he was a boy and she was a teenage girl. She believed was supposed to feel like this, it would pass. But it wasn’t, and sometimes it felt to her like it never would. It grew more and more painfully obvious that Y/n’s feelings were so much more than that, and being in that moment then only solidified that fact. Y/n was in love with Conrad Fisher, her best friend, her world.

We were cuddled up on the couch when she talked to me about the day, the way her senses seemed to point overwhelmingly towards Conrad. I could’ve told her then that my son loved her just the same back, and maybe then they would’ve pulled together like a strong magnet, but I wanted them to find each other. They deserved to realize that through their own actions, not mine. So for years after that final confession, I sat here beside my own best friend wondering along with her when they would finally find each other.

“It’s cat and mouse with them every summer.” I sighed, holding my cup of coffee close to my chest. The warmth of the steam coming off of it warmed my skin in the cool July evening.

Laurel laughed beside me, her own mug clutched in her hands as well, we mirrored each other in looking out towards the back yard where Y/n and Conrad ran around in the grass with a deflated football. The smiles on their faces were vibrant, bright. Ones that only came out when they were together. They had that power over each other, to lift each other up. To make the others heart beat fast.

It was as clear as day what our oldest children felt for each other. No amount of deflections or excuses could hide the blush on their cheeks and the way their touches lingered for just a moment longer than friends should. They knew more about each other than anyone else because they cared too much to not know. It was pure and refreshing to see young love like this, even if neither of them knew what they had yet.

“When do you think they’ll realize what they have?” Laurel asked sincerely, her face turning to watch how my expression changed throughout my answer. She usually never played into my ideas, always being the more logical of the two of us, but this was the one thing we could agree on.

“With our luck, never.” We laughed, Laurels head falling to rest on my shoulder affectionately. We let out a synchronized sigh, allowing a beat of silence to pass.

“I’m sure they’ll find their way, they always do.” My hand rubbed my best friends arm in reassurance, my head settling on top of hers. I rested my weight on her, feeling more tired now that the day was ending.

It was almost comical, how ironic the entire situation was. The two oldest, smartest, strongest of the bunch, the ones who, other than Steven, had been the only ones to successfully apply and get into some of the top schools in the country, even with their brains, couldn’t figure out just how badly they wanted each other. Not even when it was dangled right in front of them.

I partially blamed myself. It was me who had ingrained the title, best friends, into their heads. With each time they were spotted together, with everything they set off to do together, I’d always stuck their names together with those two words. Even when it became more and more obvious that they were falling into each other in a way that crossed the line that divided platonic and romantic, it was always the two of them. The younger Laurel and Susannah. The next generation of best friends.

Conrad never managed to catch Y/n’s longing glances, and Y/n always seemed to just miss the way his hands held onto her in ways he didn’t with anyone else. He held her in ways best friends weren’t supposed to.

Lingering touches that mirrored her stares, fingers twitching, begging to be interlocked. Conrad spoke his feelings to her in acts of service, winning her prizes, helping her with her homework, reading to her when she had headaches, even when she was insufferable because she kept groaning. It was also in physical touch. His cologne practically stuck to her clothes permanently with all the excuses he could find to just touch her in one way or another. Y/n seemed to constantly be trying to relay the same in her own acts of service and physical touch. Holding the door, cooking him his favorite desserts without Conrad even asking, resting her head in his lap during movie night. Both slotting together to mesh perfectly, but their ignorance keeping them apart. If I were any less mature, I would’ve yelled at them to hurry up, I wouldn’t be here forever and I’d like to see my special kids happy before I went.

“What are you thinking about, Beck?” My own best friend asked softly, her head still under mine. I squeezed her arm, feeling sure that one day they would get together.

“How happy they’ll be once they realize what they have.” It went silent, but I knew my best friend. I could sense her tight lipped smile, eyes squinting and nose scrunching. He lifted her head from my shoulder slowly, her hand resting on my lower back.

“Why don’t we settle down for the night?” I wanted to fight her, I wanted to enjoy the calmness of the summer evening. The way our children were just what they needed to be, kids. No matter their age, still able to enjoy the simplicity that the summer home had to offer. But Laurel was right, I was feeling sluggish and if I didn’t rest soon, the couch would be my bed for the night. So I nodded, leaving the image of Y/n pinned under Conrad, his hands wiggling by her sides in an attempt to make her squirm and their laughter to be the last thing I would remember before I fell asleep.

“Con.” My voice was soft, the grass wet under our backs, dirt on our skin. He turned his head to face me, a lazy smile on his face. His eyes were all hazy, clouded by both tiredness and something unreadable that consumed his facial expression.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes searching my face, lighting up when they settled on my own. I could feel the hair on his arms brush against mine, hands curled up, an indication of how close we truly were. Always just out of reach. My fingers twitched against the back of his hand, aching to be intertwined with his. My eyes flicked to his lips out of habit, breath hitching.

When I looked back to meet his eyes, I found the once playful look replaced with serious stare, burning straight into my head. He seemed stiff, nervous in a way. My cheeks flamed up in embarrassment. He must’ve seen the way I couldn’t pull my gaze from his lips. I breathed out.

“It’ll always be like this, right?” It wasn’t what I wanted to say, what I meant to ask. But in that moment, it was all I could manage. A simply vague question that held so much depth. I hoped he’d say yes, that we’d always be this close, not that we’d always be best friends. Selfishly, I hoped he said we would be more. That we could be so much more.

“You and me, always.” I felt the way his arm shifted from beside me, linking his own hands together over his chest and breathing out. He pulled his attention back to the sky, where the clouds moved faster than they did in June. The summer was ending.

“I wish it could be summer forever.” Feeling awkward being the only one to still be looking at him, I too turned to face the sky. Biting my lip, my eyes shut to imagine it was the beginning of the three wonderful months we had together.

I wished that I could have Conrad forever. That it wasn’t just some summer love that I would have to sit idly on as the seasons changed to a colder, more lonely winter. That Conrad and I could do all the things we always talked about over the phone together. Our cheeks would be rosy with the nip of the frosty weather and not because the sun had burnt us into a delirious mess. Groaning on the couch as we wasted our days away.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, Y/n/n.” He joked. Only, the way he said he sounded completely honest. Like he wasn’t joking. He said things like that a lot now. Things that were awfully romantic for someone who swore that we were platonic to all of our friends. It pulled in my heartstrings a little each time one of the phrases would slip. A source of joy for my daydreams to run on for the next few hours. If I were any more delusional, I would’ve told him how I felt about his jokes out loud. But I wasn’t, so I held them in. I let my heart face and my breathing quicken in silence.

“I hope you’ll be just as fond of me when you see me next, then.” I rolled to my side, countering his joke. I heard him laugh. My hands tucked under my head like a pillow and my legs bent at the knee. I made myself smaller next to him.

As our giggles died out, so did his interest in the clouds. He mirrored my position, hands under his head, legs bent up. Our knees touched, radiating a warmth that bounced between our body heat. My eyes were focused on him, but I was spacey. Thinking of just how long we’d be apart. It hurt my heart, I didn’t care if I would grow fonder of him. I didn’t think that was even possible with how much I loved him now.

“What’s running through that head if yours, Y/n/n.” His hand came up, pointer finger delicately tapping the top of my nose. I scrunched it under his touch, so light it tickled. My reaction made him smile again, even after his hand had returned back under his head.

“Thinking about how fondly I’ll think of you next June.” There were some things you just cannot speak about, can not share. I would never share what I was truly thinking about that day. How I was so stuck in my own feelings for him that I couldn’t even bare the thought of not having him beside me. That my heart deflated at just the mere mention of the winter because the only person I ever wanted to be around would be taken away from me.

Conrad’s laugh was weaker this time, smile fading into a smaller one but it was just as happy.

“I hope you’re already pretty fond of me, then.” I returned his smile then, the crinkle by my eyes moving a strand of hair into my face. It tickled my nose again, but I didn’t scrunch it. Too focused on Conrad so close to care.

Before I could respond, I felt the softness of his hand brushing across my face and tucking the strand behind my ear. He did it so gently, like I would break if he wasn’t.

“I am.” It came out breathy now that his touch was on me. He didn’t remove his hand from my face then. Instead, it felt more like he was molding his palm to fit my jawline. He cupped my face in his hand and just admired me. Eyes flickering around until they met my now moony gaze.

It was like some force was pulling us closer, then. Conrad’s face getting closer and closer, little by little. I couldn’t tell who was leaning in. It could’ve been me, but I was almost sure it was him. My eyelashes fluttered, fighting the instinct to close them. I heard how his breath hitched, I felt my own do the same. This was something I had always dreamed of happening, it felt unreal that now out of all times it would happen. I always dreamed of kissing Conrad in the beach, or the old dock where we used to play. Maybe even in the pool where we’d hold our fake Olympic competitions. But here we sat, on the grass, his breath fanning my face.

His head turned little by little, getting ready to connect our lips finally. The squeaky glass door slid open, and by some bad luck, it was enough to scare us into a more distant position. We sat up, now more than just inches away, searching the backyard for who had opened it.

Steven had been the culprit, having forgotten something on the small table outside. Looking beyond the pool, he found Conrad and I, red as can be, eyes wandering around and waved.

“I’ve been looking for you two! Belly wants to have one last movie night. Jeremiah’s making popcorn. Y/n, you’re on blanket duty!” He was completely oblivious to the tension between us. Of how my cheek, right where Conrad had been touching me was burning. How in my mind, it felt like he had left a mark with how hot it felt. I cleared my mind, shaking it off and looking to Conrad almost disappointedly.

To my surprise, he seemed perfectly fine, like nothing had just happened. He sprung to his feet, in fact, completely able to move on and ignore it. Maybe I had read it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t trying to kiss me. Of course I was, it would be stupid to believe that my best friend could really possess some sort of feelings for me. I had simply made it up, tricked my mind into believing it was true because I longed for him too much.

When his hands met mine to held me up, it felt like fire. Flames burning into my hands at how badly I wanted him. If he didn’t care, than I shouldn’t either. My stupid feelings shouldn’t weight down the last hours we’d spend together. It shouldn’t dictate how the last night will go.

I put on a brave smile, sticking a bandaid over the wound over my heart. I bled out on the couch, all over anyone near me. My smile false, heart heavy. I forced myself to forget it and as the movie grew longer and longer, it left my mind completely. Eyebrows feeling lighter, the burning in my throat releasing itself into a soothing sensation. It would be my last memory of the summer that truly stuck. How close I had gotten to Conrad, and how quickly he had slipped away. How wrong I was about how he felt. How hurt I was for believing it could be different.

What I didn’t know then was how he felt the same. How his mind was swirling with the what if’s and the same disappointment I felt. How my fake smile had tricked him into believing it meant nothing to me, like I didn’t understand the weight of the situation at all. He didn’t know how I was breaking inside at how he didn’t seem to care, because he was feeling the same. My own act was tricking him, allowing Conrad to believe just what I thought of him. That I did not care for him like he did with me. That his feelings weren’t reciprocated. It was a dance between us. Chasing in a circle to get the other attention, to figure out what was happening between us. Completely unaware that if we would just turn around, we’d find what we do desperately longed for. The other chasing the same thing. We let the incident go by the morning, pretending that whatever happened was all a dream. And just like that, we were what we had always been. Best friends.

The news came early in the morning. The sun hadn’t fully crossed the horizon yet and there was still dew on the lawn. I was alone then, away at college. The constant calls from my mother waking me up. But it was the one from Conrad that I answered somehow.

“Hello?” My voice was full of sleep, confused as to why my mom was calling me so early. I had an eight am that morning, I had my alarms set. It was all so confusing, hazy.

“Y/n.” His voice was shaky, weak. It woke me up quickly. Conrad was never like this, at least not over the phone. Occasionally he would breakdown around me. The tears always stung. So full of emotion, so overwhelmed to the point he couldn’t keep it together. All it took was someone to ask if he was really okay to tip him over the edge. To open the flood gates. It only happened at the worst of times, it was alarming that it was happening now.

“Conrad, are you okay? What happened?” I knew something bad had to have happened. This wasn’t simply just him calling because of how much he missed me. Those calls came later at night on FaceTime, his voice light and playful each time. This was heavy, I couldn’t see him, he was hiding behind the phone call. I knew it had to be bad, already packing a bag as he spoke. The phone was pressed to my ear by my shoulder and head, I worked on stuffing as much of my clothes in as possible. I made sure to scribble a note down to let my roommate know I was leaving and would be back in a few days.

“It’s my mom.” The world stopped in that moment. I knew I had to get to him even quicker now, I knew he needed me to talk to him, to walk him through his grief but the news was so heavy, my hands stopped working. I froze, unable to do anything but pray that it was some sick prank.

“What?” It came quiet, I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. She wasn’t my mom by birth, I didn’t carry the same relationship to her as Conrad did. I didn’t see her everyday for hours, but in some way she was my second mother. She taught me to ride a bike, how to bake a cake. I learned how to read from her, her name was the first word out of my mouth. She was the grounding in my life. The one person I trusted to share everything because it was likely she’d already been through it. She understood like a mother, helped me grow as one. Her death would leave an empty hole in my heart for eternity, I was sure.

I heard Conrad take a shaky breath, holding it while he tried to piece together what he had to say. What I deserved to know.

“It happened this morning, just an hour ago. I wasn’t going to call so soon but, I thought you deserved to know. She was special to you, so…” He tried to keep it together, I could feel it. I could hear it. How his breaths caught in his throat, the quiet stutter beneath his words.

“Conrad, I…” In looking for all the words I wanted to say, to tell him it would be okay with, I came up short. Unable to make some sense as to what was happen.

“You don’t have to say anything. We all knew it was coming soon.” He dismissed my struggle, knowing that if it were hitting this hard on his end, he could imagine that I wouldn’t take it very week either.

“Yes but Con, that doesn’t make it any better.” I ran a hand through my hair, placing the phone tightly between my shoulder blade and my ear. I began to pack again.

“Do you need me to come down to Boston?” I would’ve come down on my own, would’ve held him like a brother, protected him from the world, the reality of it all. But it was a delicate situation. I had to walk on eggshells, unsure of what was best. I had never lost a relative before, never endured the pain of not having a mother. Never seeing her again like how the Fisher brothers just had. I didn’t know if it was best to stay or go.

“No, no.” Though it sounded like he was lying, like part of him wanted me to just be there, his words were firm, exhausted. If he wanted me there, I would come, but I would not intrude when times were so tough.

The line went quiet for a moment, I can still hear the static ringing through my head even now. How the line went just as quiet as the dorms when everyone was asleep. I could feel the hot liquid trailing down my cheeks, the tightening of my chest becoming more rapid the longer we both stayed quiet.

“Listen, I’ll call you later when I know more, okay?” I nodded my head, only realizing a moment later he couldn’t see me. I took in a deep breath.

“Okay, yeah.” He mumbled a quick goodbye, hanging up the phone and leaving me alone to grieve. The once cheerful morning turned grey with sadness, clouds looming as a reminder to the sunshine we had lost that morning. The dew turned into mud and the plants wilted. My bag was packed in minutes after the call ended, bag slung over my shoulder.

Conrad didn’t want me there, and that was fine. But my mother was at home, sitting with only two thirds of her family who were probably all unaware besides her. If Conrad didn’t need my shoulders to lean on, my mother did. She knew Susannah longer and truer than any of us had. The pain she must be carrying could only be indescribable to her. So if I wasn’t leaving for the Fishers, I was for her.

I never got that call from Conrad, not even a text. As I laid in my childhood bedroom, eyes glued to the ceiling and the silence of the household drowning me in my own self isolation, I didn’t even wonder why. For the first time, my life didn’t revolve around Conrad, on how he was doing, what he was doing. I didn’t miss him anymore. Not because the hurt of him not being here was any less, but because the pain of his mother never coming back being worse. It canceled out and an extreme numbness took over. I felt nothing. I had cried all my tears, screamed into my pillow until my voice gave away. My knuckles hurt from how hard I gripped the steering wheel on the way home. I had already lost it and now I had nothing else to give.

…

The funeral was a week later. Not much time to process such a heavy loss. Adam wanted me to speak at the funeral, he knew how much Susannah meant to me, but I couldn’t do it. Walking up to the podium, I couldn’t say her name. Even if it were just a practice run. My voice ran dry, eyes wet. Staring at her photo by the alter, all I could do was shake my head. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t do what her husband wanted for her. I felt embarrassed I couldn’t help the family who was going through so much still. They claimed they understood, but the guilt loomed.

We sat three rows behind them. Strangers separating us. It made me angry. If not us, the ones who spent hours on hours together, at least my mother deserved to be sitting in the front row with the Fishers. She was a sister to Susannah. She was just as much of a family as they were. I kept my mouth shut, my eyes down. The family took turns speaking, each sentence summarizing her in the most beautiful way possible. Some old friends spoke in her honor too. It felt wrong then, how people who barely knew her could stand up there and act like she was their greatest gift.

When it was Conrad’s turn, he sung a song. In his pain, his voice failed him. Wavering and breaking through the song. He apologized, looking out into the crowd he met my eyes. I wanted to look away, not wanting him to see me so broken when I should be the one supporting him. But by looking into my eyes, even as teary and red as they were, he grounded himself. By the time he finished, the venue was silent, soft cries echoing from the back rows. Nobody acknowledged them out of the fear that it would cause them to breakdown again.

The silence carried over to the Fishers Boston home. Other than the adults mingling and the quiet chatter of Jeremiah and Steven, the room felt empty. It felt like a depressing party, one that was about Susannah, yet excluded her from it.

It was tiring, the whole experience. Always trying to catch up with how quickly everyone else was getting over it. I felt like a dead weight compared to Steven and Belly, who had already started coming to terms with it. I was the only one left living in denial. The only one still dreaming of epiphany’s to make some sense of it. To make the heartache more bearable.

I wore the dark eye bags and my salt tears like a tattoo, ones that had been permanently stained on my face since the news broke. It was obvious I wasn’t doing well. I had planned to go back to school after the funeral, seeking a clean space to cope. To get away from the constant reminders of what could no longer be.

Jeremiah said I looked too weak to be driving myself to school tonight. He set up the guest room for me, decorating it just as his mother used to. Even in my protests he managed to convince me. He told me how it was more for him than it was for me. How having me close made him feel better because it was like gaining a piece of him family back. Like having an older sister come home from college.

After that, I kept mainly to myself. Finding the emptiest rooms and sticking to them. I hid my face in my knees, soft cries coming in waves until I had nothing left to cry for. Alone, I sat in the darkness until the soft chatter died out and all distractions became a heavy peace.

“You should get to bed soon, Conrad, it’s getting late.” I forgot all about him, I realized. Not once having checked on him. It was only Adams soft suggestion reminding me of the other brother, who was probably taking the funeral even harder than his younger brother. Wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands, I waited until the choking breaths turned into quiet sniffles. Until everything felt calmer, more collected to see him. I wanted to be able to be there for Conrad, even when I wasn’t doing okay either. I wanted to—no. I needed to be strong for him.

I knew where he was, I could see the frame of his back hunched over on the couch. Head hung low and hands fidgeting around anxiously. It made me nervous.

I took the time to go downstairs then, only after I was sure everybody else had filed out of the house, leaving it looming with an eerie emptiness. There were leftovers on the table, one serving left, the rest already in the refrigerator. Adam had already cleaned away any evidence of Susannah’s death.

Taking what was left, I put it on a paper plate. My own stomach rumbled, being empty, but the starving feeling felt better than feeling nothing at all. I knew Conrad hadn’t eaten in hours, cemented to his place on the couch, he needed to eat. It could be considered a peace offering, a kind gesture. Something to maybe lift his spirits.

My hands were shaky, so I had to hold his plate with both hands. I leaned against the wall when I went back upstairs, I didn’t trust my footing anymore. I had to stop halfway up, take a deep breath and pull it together. Conrad needed me, I had to be there. I wanted to be there.

It was a soft knock that pulled me from my descent into a bottomless pit of sadness. My mind shook its self free, eyes fighting consciousness. I was ready to snap, irritated at my dads efforts of trying to move me from where I found some sort of comfort. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He was only a concerned father who wanted to help his son. But I wanted none of it. I wanted even more now than when my mom was alive to be as distant from him as possible. Unforgiving of his horrible mistakes that caused my mom so much pain.

The soft voice that spoke wasn’t one that belonged to my father, not even my brother who had a sweet voice saved specifically for moments like these. To ease the tension, calm everyone down. No, it was like honey. So sweet and gentle. So easy to listen to. I longed to hear more.

“Con?” It belonged to Y/n. My Y/n. The only person I hadn’t really seen all day. The only person I wanted to see all day. Instead, she had spent it making everyone happy with her. Tending to Jeremiah’s wish, staying with us overnight. Giving a loving hand to hold for Belly and Steven, calming down her younger sisters uneven cries and her brothers panicked breathing. She tried to get her mother to open up, but Laurel was like me. Stubborn. Even with her best efforts, she was locked out, leaving her to seek solace in the less crowded rooms upstairs. I wanted to come see her, but my feet no longer worked. My legs were jelly. I felt stuck to the couch. Too weak to keep moving.

I acknowledged her, mouth too dry to speak. She took it as a signal to sit down beside me. The plate in her lap was shaking like her. The food looked unappetizing, but I appreciated her effort. She pushed it towards me, a hand finding my back, she rubbed it like she had in the summer when I was drunk and clinging onto the toilet out of sickness.

Nodding my head, I accepted it only to place it on the table in front of me. I knew she knew I didn’t mean it as an insult, I just couldn’t eat right now. I just wanted her to hold me. I wanted to feel safe again.

So, I placed my head where I’d always wished I could. My ear pressed against her shoulder, hands glued to my lap, her arms wrapped around me out of instinct. It was so warm, so loving. It helped to heal the ache that was ripping through my heart slightly. My headache didn’t feel so severe with her close. She made everything better, just as she always did.

“Con, I’ve known you my whole life, you’re my best friend. You can talk to me. You can trust me, okay?” Her hands in my hair suddenly felt my poison. Little thorns poking into my scalp. The sour reminder that this hold, this closeness wasn’t reserved for me. I wasn’t hers, she wasn’t mine. It made me feel angrier than I should’ve. A mix of grief and disappointment mixing together into something she didn’t deserve. She was only trying to help.

Sighing heavily, I pulled myself away, standing up to create a distance that I knew she felt not only physically but mentally. A feeling of someone close to her becoming closed off to her, just as her mother had done earlier today. I couldn’t look at her. I’d spill everything.

“Conrad, no. Please don’t shut me out. Please, not now.” She was pleading with me, her voice shook slightly, it made my heart break a little, hearing how feeble she was feeling.

“Y/n, can you go please?” I didn’t mean what I said. I’d only done it out of my own petty desires. Hurting the girl I loved more than anything in this world out of my own selfishness. When we were both hurting the most. She didn’t say anything, but I imagined she must’ve shook her head. Her footsteps grew closer.

“No.” She choked out, “No, I’m not leaving you alone right now.” Y/n cared so much for me, she always did. She knew how to read me better than anyone else. She knew that even now when I was asking her to go, I didn’t mean it. I wanted her more than anything. Her knowing this overwhelmed me with a love that I misplaced, unable to cherish and welcome it due to my own selfish nature. Only ever knowing how to push away what was so graciously given to me. I decided to snap at her, make her leave.

“What do you get out of staying, Y/n?” My words were laced with venom, I turned around to speak to her now. Having already built up my walls to know I wouldn’t break. She was speechless, confused.

“I-I don’t…” She couldn’t find the words. Not expecting to be turned on so quickly when she was just trying to help, to be kind.

“God, you are so selfish. This is about you doing what makes you feel good, right? You don’t give a shit about me, Y/n.” I didn’t mean it. I knew Y/n was far from selfish. She was the most selfless person I knew. Always putting herself dead last to help everyone else thrive. She hated thinking she was one day going to be depicted as someone selfish, someone cruel. It was an insecurity I knew she had since childhood. So, in my own anger, I pointed my weapons at her deepest hurts.

“Con, no. That’s not true.” She was defeated now, lip quivering and face contorted into pure pain. I scoffed.

“You can’t even look me in the eyes when you say it. You don’t have to pity me just because my mom is dead.” I kept going, unable to stop now that I had started. I had already stabbed her, now I was only twisting the knife. I watched her eyes well up with tears, all glassy and red. Her lip quivered and her eyebrows pulled together.

“Fuck you Conrad!” It was unexpected. I hoped she would walk away, leave it be and blame it on my grieving, but I should’ve known better. Y/n was like me, stubborn. She was just as much of a fighter ad I was, kinder but full of anger just as I was.

“Susannah was as much of a mother to me as my own! You aren’t the only one grieving, asshole! I’m doing this because I care. I care Conrad, and I wish I didn’t because you don’t deserve it, but I do. And I’m afraid I always will. So…so don’t you disregard my sadness out of the spite of your own anger!” What started out so strong had faltered into a weak confession. She was looking at me in the eyes, finding it in herself to finally make eye contact, breaking the invisible barrier between us. We were chest to chest.

Even in her state, she was so beautiful. Like an Angel sent form heaven specifically for me. I couldn’t help the way my eyes searched her face. I felt confused, more overwhelmed now than ever.

A silence took over, heavy breathing turning into quiet huffs of air. Even, steady. We were so close, I could feel her body heat radiating onto me.

I opened my mouth to speak, I wanted to apologize but the words got stuck. I couldn’t convey what I wanted to tell her. How she meant the world to me, how she was the only person who I cared about more than anything. She was the only person I didn’t want to shut out, didn’t mean to shut out. I loved her more than anything I’ve ever loved and it hurt me to not be able to love her as more than a friend.

My fingers found her hand then, squeezing and pulling her fingers between my own. I held it there, by her side, trying to get her to understand. I heard her breath hitch, saw her eyes find my lips. They flickered back up to my face. I needed her badly then, I knew I couldn’t wait. She was right here, so willing to stay when I’d treated her so horribly. She saw right through me constantly, she stuck by me in my darkest storms.

I didn’t think about it when I did it. About how my leaning in, my effort to kiss her could’ve scared her away. I was blinded by want, by need. I forgot it takes two people to have something.

Y/n released a breath only to hitch it once again, moving back from where I leaned in, she lengthened the gap between us again. A soft whimper woke me up from my haze, her head shaking rapidly. She looked scared. But more than that, she looked guilty, hurt.

Susannah was dead, there was no way to avoid that fact. My mom was never coming back, and that alone broke everyone into tiny pieces. Knowing Y/n, I knew how complicated everything felt for her. She was grieving, hurting. Not even I could piece together what she was thinking.

“Connie.” Her second whimper of my name is the one that made me back away. It was then I saw what I had done. The girl I loved most was staring back at me with wide eyes, mouth open slightly and body shaking. More than that, she had tears streaming down her face rapidly. I had made Y/n cry. For the first time in my life, I had made my best friend cry.

My heart shattered at the realization. How I’d ripped her down, made her feel vulnerable and then went in to kiss her like it would cancel everything out. I moved back again, trying to find the right words to apologize with. A silence surrounded us, crickets and the late night breeze the only sounds filling the walls around us.

I watched her a step back, slightly faltering over the threshold of the doorframe. Her hand ripped away from mine quickly, leaving a burning feeling behind from where we were once connected. A pain that wasn’t real, but felt so. She began to walk backwards now, hands finding the hallways walls for support, her feet failing her.

“Y/n.” My voice was quiet, my feet cemented to the floor. She shook her head again, a sob racking through her body. It’s a sound I’d never heard before. One I hope to never hear again. I could see how panicked she was. How everything was just now catching up. Her feet move quicker now, seeing how I’m reaching out for her. She’s scared, how could she not be? We’d crossed a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed, one that was toed over during one of the most horrible moments of our lives.

She’s halfway down the stairs now, the thumping of her feet louder than the creaking of the stairs. Jeremiah sticks his head out at the sound, looking between her disappearing figure and my body stuck in the doorway. It’s then I realize she’s actually leaving. Not to find peace in the guest bedroom, but to go away for good. I’d pushed her away, why had I pushed her away?

I’m quick then, my feet finding the floor in front of me, I make a mad dash down the hall and around the old banister. It cried under my weight but I push through, desperate to reach her. I don’t care who I wake up, if my fathers mad. If he’d just finished crying himself to sleep. I’m shouting after Y/n, yelling her name like it’s the only word in my dictionary.

“Y/n!” My feet stopped at the beginning of the driveway. The space her car once occupied is gone, not even the distant sound of a car rushing down the street can be heard. She’s slipped away from me just as my mother had, leaving me completely alone.

I walked out to the street, trying to see if she had parked it elsewhere. She wouldn’t leave me, would she? Not after we’d promised we’d always be like this. So close, always together.

The street was empty, only the flickering street lights illuminating the dark streets. I felt defeated, broken. I had got what I intended for, but not what I wanted.

Y/n was gone like the wind, leaving me in the stillness of the night, overthinking everything that had led us to this tipping point. All the tension, all the build up just for the resolve to be our ending. I always dreamed of the day I could finally confess my feelings to her. Even if she didn’t reciprocate them, she would never be mean about it. We’d always be close, and that alone gave me comfort. Now, I wasn’t so sure. What should’ve brought us together in my head, the one thing I’d always dreamed about, had split us apart. It’s almost funny how it happened, when it happened. The two people I always saw myself standing next to for the rest of eternity gone within the same week. Unsure if seeing them again was even something that was possible.

In all the years I had ignored him, Conrad never stopped reaching out. Not until my Junior year. My phone was filled with unanswered messages that varied from topic to topic. He kept me updated even in my absence from his life, wanting to salvage the closeness we’d cherished when we were younger.

He told me how he was in therapy, a week later he told me how he’d stopped going. Not only because he felt like it was nearly impossible to open up to a complete stranger, but because going felt like another financial burden he was adding to his fathers long list of bills and soon to be debt. Conrad shared how day by day, the grief of losing his mother was getting easier to cope with. The happy memories of her having been around at some point fueling him each day. He felt grateful he even had the pleasure to know her so well. Call her his mother. He was going to school to become a doctor now, changing his major halfway through his freshman year because he wanted to help people going through what his mother was forced to endure. He wanted to save people, help them in ways he was never able to help Susannah. He had a good heart, an honest one. Yet, he never spoke of any new lovers in his life. He carried all these amazing qualities, but his heart still longed for me, the girl who had left and never looked back.

It had been just over three years since I’d walked away from Conrad. Three years since I’d seen him. I couldn’t even look at him through photos. I was grown now, but my heart still aches in the same childish way it did when the wound was fresh. He never brought up what happened after the funeral. It was like his attempt to kiss me didn’t exist, only adding to the hurt I felt. Only confirming what I believed from the beginning. Conrad Fisher hadn’t leaned in to kiss me because he loved me, he had done it because he was grieving and didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t love me like I loved him. He did it because I was always so easy. The lovesick fool who would do anything for him, even if it hurt me the most. Susannah had been so sure that he did love me the same, I almost believed her, but it was ignorant to buy into it when it was so obviously not there. Yet, I still felt a tingling sensation each time I looked back at his messages. I wondered if in the time he’d stopped talking to me, he’d found someone else to love and know like he did with me. I hoped that my replacement was beautiful, like a model on the cover of Vogue. I prayed she was smart and kind like Susannah. I hoped she was everything I wasn’t to him.

Deep down, I knew part of my attachment, my fixation on what he was up to was because of the messages. How no matter how wrong it felt, I continued to allow myself to be part of his life from a distance. Even if Conrad didn’t know it, I always cared. Always would. I told him that the day I left. It was fear that turned out to be true. A curse that kept me from finding that same love for anyone else. My heart belonged to Conrad Fisher, a boy who barely knew me anymore. A boy who I wasn’t even sure if I could consider a friend anymore. A boy I want to be able to call my friend again. I had been so resolute all these years in keeping to my word. That after that night, I would never come back. The last would stay just that, the past. It was never that easy.

Letting go of Conrad Fisher was more than only losing the love of my life. It was like throwing away the last pieces of a Susannah. Sure, I still talked to Jeremiah quite frequently. Our phone calls lasted for hours, he never failed to make me smile. But he didn’t have Susannah’s eyes. He didn’t have her blonde hair or her smile. He was a direct reflection of his father, other than his unwavering optimism. None of his features lined up in the same way Conrad’s did. He was her twin, in a way. Losing him felt like losing her all over again.

All I did was try, try, keep trying. I kept pushing until I had nothing left to give, a burnout who barely made it to graduation. No friends to stand with at the finish line. All in an effort to forget what was lost along the way. Losing Conrad made all my achievements feel unworthy. A deep depression looming deep in my stomach, waiting for the right moment to rise, swallow me whole. Not even seeing my family there, sitting excitedly in the folding chairs could lift my spirits. There were four empty seats beside them that shattered my heart. I could place a name to each one. Figure out who would sit where if they had shown. But that bridge was burned and it was my fault.

My fault for running away from the boy who adored me like no other. Who made me feel special. Who understood me like a lover. My heart felt empty, I couldn’t sleep at all that night. Not even when Belly had shared about her forming relationship with Jeremiah, not when Steven confessed he thought he might be marrying Taylor soon, he was ready to buy a ring.

Years ago, that would’ve been something that lifted my mood. Filled me with joy, excitement that my sister was finding her own soulmate in a close friend. How her heart finally beat for the one that was there for her the whole time. But like a train, it hit me that the connecting link between the Fisher family and the Conklin’s would no longer be Conrad and I like I always dreamed it to be. It would be Jeremiah and Belly. Steven’s upcoming engagement didn’t thrill me either. His healthy relationship only reminding me of the ones I lacked. Amplifying the loneliness I was already painfully aware of. All by my own doing.

I felt like I was crashing, listening to my family talk about how well they were doing. It was like they couldn’t see the downward spiral I was falling into. Becoming my worst self.

Going home to a house filled with tainted memories surely didn’t help. Nor did the bottle of alcohol placed in the middle of the kitchen table. Picking it up and drinking straight from the glass was bound to happen, I was hurting and it was my numbing solution. Years ago I had told myself I’d rather feel all the pain in the world than be numb when it came to Susannah’s passing, but now I wished I could take it back. Each drink hurt less and less. The tequila turned into water, my eyes hurt to keep open. I was a quiet mess on the couch. Unaware of anything really.

It was an issue how easily persuaded I was when drunk. In my sober state, I would have never agreed to Belly’s proposition. I would’ve protested, claiming I still wasn’t ready to face my issues. I wasn’t fully prepared to accept that Conrad never loved me, that it was his grief that made him want to kiss me. Something I loved with for years. But I wasn’t sober, and Belly’s argument that we’d be going down for the summer again because it would be what Susannah wanted had me packing a bag for the morning. Ready to go down to the one place I hadn’t been since Susannah still inhabited it.

I found myself hurting in the back of the car, aching, tired. The road underneath the wheels crunching and bouncing the car in a way that made my head pound. I laid my head in my moms lap, praying for it to all be over. Seeking the peace of stillness.

Susannah had once told my mother that she believed I was walking sunshine. A force that lit up the sky when I was around. Someone who’s smile was so contagious, even her brooding son couldn’t help but feel joyful around me. It felt like I was letting her down in a way. Now that everyone had moved on, had gotten better. I felt like an idiot being stuck on the past. What was worse is that I wasn’t sure if I was so stuck because of Susannah or because of Conrad. Both answers freaked me out.

“Y/n, honey.” Her voice was gentle, hands running through my hair. I felt a mess. Hair messy like a child’s, eyes wide yet so tired. My lips were wet with drool, cheeks rosy with the summer heat. My head pounded with a nasty hangover.

I knew what my mom was going to tell me. I felt the car come to a halt, the road turning sharply into a familiar driveway with even more familiar trees peaking through the window. I knew where we were. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I knew there was no turning back.

Belly and Steven got out of the car first, just like every year prior. Footsteps echoed from the crushed up shells and rocks that were considered a driveway. Laughter and chatter, I recognized the voice as Jeremiah’s. My mother shifted underneath my head in hearing this, ready to get up. Her eyes met mine, silently pleading for me to just, try.

Sitting up, my back aches from the odd position I forced myself in. What I thought was comfort was a hidden pain shooting through my back. All I wanted more than anything was to lay back down on my moms lap. To pretend we were still at home. Like I wouldn’t have to confront anything. I heard the excitement in Jeremiahs voice.

“So, where’s Y/n?” My moms heavy sigh was a signal of impatience, her understanding was wearing thin, she was ready to shove me out into the outside.

I opened the car door slowly, head peaking out. My eyes were wide and nervous. Hands shaking around the door frame. I felt like a shell of the person I was the last time I’d stepped foot on this very ground.

“Jere.” His eyes were just as bright blue as I remembered, his hair just as unruly and free. He hadn’t changed, that alone gave me some sort of comfort. I felt my lips twitch up into a smile, eyebrows furrowed. I should’ve had smile lines at this age, but I only had worry lines. To stressed to think about being happy. But here I was, body peaking beyond the car door, cowering like a young child meeting new faces at a party.

My feet dragged, my body curling into itself in such a pathetic way. The door close weakly behind me, it didn’t make a sound I was sure I hadn’t closed it properly in my nervousness.

His footsteps were quick on the driveway, long strides shortening the amount of time it took to reach me. His eyes were slightly closed, like he was holding back tears. His arms outstretched, fingers motioning for me to come to him.

I didn’t realize how much I had missed how tightly he held onto me until having been deprived of it for so long. I wished I had been around more. I think I would’ve been better off if I had been. I could’ve healed, talked everything through.

But I ran. Far away from the people who supported me greatly, from the people who I needed to be around the most. I was cowardly and childish. A fool so blinded by her own emotions, I let myself close off to the people who I’d never had to before. I smeared my tears on Jeremiah’s shirt, his shoulder firm under my cheeks.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” His hands held my cheeks when he pulled away, keeping a hold on me liked I’d slip away if he didn’t. I shook my head, eyes crinkling just like they used to when we were children. I let out a hurt laugh. It was the furthest thing from real, but it felt nice to make someone else believe it was. Placing my hands over his, he lost all ability to move his hands other than his thumbs. He swiped at my tears, fighting off his own.

“I missed you.” I pinched his cheek, wiggling his face around playfully and snapping it back into place. His hands fell from my face, pretending to not find amusement in my attempts of play in such a serious moment. He swatted my hands away. My hangover was still intense, and my heart still beat unevenly, there was still a sense of magic around the beach house. I could feel the sadness slipping away, a new relief filling my heart as I eased back into the old routines of summer. It was still there, it always would be, but being around half of the pair I grew up around was enough to clear the murky skies and paint them a beautiful shade of crystal blue.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” His words made my hands freeze, pulling back away from him and my smile falling, hard to bring back up. How could I explain my absence was one that was caused not only by the passing of his own mother, but by the cruel joke his brother had played on me. How in the weakest times, he continued to play me, made me feel so easy.

A deep breath got stuck in my throat, blinking hard. The small lump in my throat expanded until it burned. I swallowed, and swallowed until the pain was soothed enough to speak without an intense rasp. Licking my lips, I prepared for the long explanation and heavy details I would shorten to help Jeremiah understand why I had left everyone behind. I opened my mouth, only to have my words cut off and my heart to leap into my throat.

“Y/n.” His voice was airy, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Turning my head to the side, I saw the joy in his face, mixing with what I could read as pure shock and what I could pick up as a deep sadness. It was clear it wasn’t only the youngest who was shocked by me showing up this summer.

“Conrad.” My tone was the same. I didn’t chase after him like I did to Jeremiah, nor did I welcome him into my arms, letting him walk right up to me. I felt stuck in place, heart racing at the sudden confrontation. He looked thinner, more tired. But his skin was still sun kissed and his nose was burnt on the bridge into a pinkish red. He had freckles scattered on his face and the same middle part that still, even after almost a decade of the change, curved off to the side near the back.

It was his house, it was stupid to pretend to be shocked by him being there. Jeremiah and all the courage I’d gained to even begin the process of speaking up about what happened was gone. The smile, even as fake as it was was wiped from my face and replaced with pure terror, pain.

It was like ripping my heart out all over again. Resurrecting the feelings that I had sworn to have buried over the last years. The ones I promised would never come back. I never saw myself in this light. So pathetic, letting something so old kill me all over again. It was like I was watching myself out of my body, listening to the world around me as a ghost. Only half of who I was. It was like I convinced myself these past few months that what happened was merely just a flesh wound, nothing deeper. I couldn’t have anticipated how far the ache would reach. How intense it would feel.

Conrad had began to try and speak again, his hands raising, my heart beating. The closer he inched, the harder it became to breath. The more blurry my vision became, the more everything hurt in a way I was sure I would never feel again.

Like some saint, Jeremiah had seen it. The way my shoulders tensed, chest rising and falling erratically. My skin was becoming blotchy around my neck and my eyes were watering more. I looked just as panicked as I felt. He’d seen me crashing out, he knew just as Conrad once had to get me out of there.

His hand hooked in mine, fingers intertwined tightly and palms pressed together until there was no space between us. He looked to me with a fake face on, eyes searching mine, he prayed I would go along with it.

My ears tuned most of it out, the pounding on my ears to great to really listen to what he was saying. I could only nod my head and let him lead the way. My footing was unstable, the ground shifting and pebbles flying in front of my feet each time I lifted my shoes off the ground. The birds sung to each other, and my mother instructed everyone to help unload the last of the cars luggage. Jeremiah and I had slipped away, keeping distance away from Conrad while doing so and slipped through the back door to seek shelter in his room.

I knew I had to explain it to him then, I couldn’t leave Jeremiah in the dark. Not when he’d been so worried that he pulled me away from his own brother, my best friend. He’d saved me, in a way. I owed it to him to tell him everything. Even if he’d take Conrad side. Even if I lost my only other bridge to Susannah’s life. He deserved to know.

Sitting on his messy duvet cover, my shoes fell to the floor, creating a heavy sound when they connected with the carpet. My knees were pulled to my chest, as if to hide away in a way. He was patient with me, his hand warm on my leg. I felt calmer without Conrad so close, with walls to separate us. I told him everything. He stayed stone faced while processing my feelings, how my heartache had been so great I couldn’t take myself back here until now. How my heart still longed for Conrad Fisher, how it always would. He didn’t judge me, but I could see how he felt bad for me. An idiot who fell in love with his idiot brother.

She’d been ignoring me all week. Something I never saw myself becoming well aquatinted with when it came to her. She was always a ball of sunshine, so easy going, so open to change. I had no idea that by me expressing my feelings I could change it in a moment. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she would have run like this.

My mom always believed that Y/n and I were meant to be, pulled together by some invisible force. It constantly worked in our favors to push and pull us into a tightly knitted circle. Just us. When she died, Y/n was persistent on being supportive. Being there, caring more than anyone had ever done for me in that dark time. I thought that it was smart to buy into my fantasies, that Y/n had developed the same feelings I held for her and we could finally be what I’d always dreamed of.

It was the worst thing I could’ve done, looking back. How naive I was to think that even if she did reciprocate what I held for her, she was grieving just like I was. She was weak. Maybe she thought of it as wrong, now that my mom was dead. I drove her away with my own selfishness. It was a regret I carried all of my college experience.

Phone dry, a never ending loop of unanswered texts. She became a dump in a way, a place for me to open up even in her not being there. Part of me liked to think she read the messages. She had turned off her alerts, I had no idea, but thinking she saw them made my heart hurt less.

I thought by her coming, even though I knew the chances were slim as the Conklin’s had packed up and spent the summer down at Cousins without her in the previous years, I knew that maybe by her just being close that we could mend things. I had to. It hurt me to not be able to reach out and touch her like I once had the privilege to.

To hold her fingers under mine, rubbing dirt out of her eyebrows and maybe pressing my palms to her temples just to feel her warmth. How her legs tangled between the lawn and my own. It was all a foreign memory, ones that kept me going. Her laugh was a distant memory, one that echoed each night before I went to bed. For years I covered my ears and held my breath, afraid to loose the sound of her voice and smell of her perfume. Some shirts stayed hung up idly in my closet because she lingered on them. I didn’t want to wash it away yet.

Jeremiah insisted she just needed time after the first day. After he’d taken her away from me. I went into his room that night to yell at him, ask him why he would do that to me when he knew just how badly I wanted to hold her. He shook his head and held his breath. She was still hurting, he explained. Still scarred by the injuries that should’ve healed months ago. She needed time.

Time, something that became limited in the summer. Something we had not much of. There was no more guarantee she would be back. No more sure telling that her smile would once again light up the summer home and her voice would ring throughout the beaches. This could be my last ever moments with her. My last real conversation being one that caused her to leave.

I wanted to make it right more than anything, wanted to show her I still cared more than anything. I wanted to tell her everything. Pretend that we were okay, really be okay. I wanted her back.

Around the twelve day mark, I had enough. Time and space was something she had plenty of. I understood her, better than anyone. I know she needed her space, continues to need to heal. But for the first time in my life it’s like I have no clue on how to even begin to help her do that. It made me feel stupid, helpless. Killing myself over a girl who was once only a little girl to me.

The old dock was a place I found myself at most peace. The way the waves gently brushed against the old wooden beams, rocking the platform above. How the moonlight peaked through the cracks of the wooden roof and glistened on the water. You could faintly make out the shape of fish if you really looked and the wind was chilling compared to the usual humid summer air that hung all morning.

My arms were situated right against my body, hands tucked under my armpits. I was cold, sure, but I would never admit it. I always loved when Conrad would take me out here when we were younger. He learned his own love for the spot form his mother, a love that was passed down from child to child like an everlasting passion.

It was quiet, the water and the air drowning out any background noise. Sometimes if you were lucky, young children would play in the background. Laughter would fill the area. Maybe an old couple would barbecue outside. You could people watch. It was all so serene. Not enough to block out the creaks of approaching footsteps. How the boards groaned under the heavy steps getting closer.

My nose was red, I scrunched it in the cold. I sighed heavily, releasing any tension.

“This has always kind of been our spot, huh.” His voice was much deeper than I recalled it. Much more gravely, raspy than before. He was referring to Susannah and how it started, the first discussions that made us realize we were closer than all the others. We were certainly best friends. It was funny how even though it was her funeral that ultimately led to our breakage that she was a reoccurring theme in our lives. I nodded.

Silence took over us, a gap left between our bodies. I felt the urge to stay in place fighting the one to leave. I swallowed hard, looking over my shoulder and backing away slowly. My feet found the floor behind me, and unlike I had when the incident occurred, I was steady and able to begin my escape.

“Y/n, wait.” Conrad spoke softly. His voice wasn’t demanding, almost like he was begging. His eyes begged more than his voice. He pleaded for me to stay. I turned my head to him, stopping short and turning to face him. I watched as his frame began to tower over mine the closer and closer we got. He left a sizable gap between us still, out of respect for me.

Looking up at him, my eyes reflected the stars, wide and expecting. I waited patiently while his tongue licked around his mouth, his breathing heavier and heavier by the minute. He looked like he might burst.

“Y/n, you’re my best friend.” The words stung to hear even now. Even when I should’ve been relieved to know that he still considered me to be at the top of his list. My own heartache held me back. I could only nod.

“I know.” I could feel the lump in my throat form. How it hurt to not cry. How my eyebrows felt heavy and my nose became sore, not from the cold anymore.

He breathed out harshly, watching as I tried to make my escape again. His hand was harsh on my hand, pulling me back to where I was. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to turn away yet but he knew my intentions just as well as I did.

“You’re my best friend and it kills me to not be able to have you in my life anymore. I miss what we had, what we were. Everything was going great and then…what happened to us, Y/n?” I wish I could’ve answered him, but we both knew what led us here.

“I don’t have to defend my feelings to you.” My lip quivered, feeling a fight rising between us. We never used to fight. Now looking back on it, our last two interactions had only been fights. How quickly things can change.

Ripping my hand from his grasp I turned and made my quick escape down the dock. Walking as quick as my feet would carry me until my feet felt the grass beneath the soles of my shoes. I heard Conrad’s own steps connecting with the flooring just as harshly as mine had. The yank on my wrist was no as gentle as the first time around. His grip was harsh, tight. He made sure there was no escape.

“What is wrong with you?” His voice was raised but he wasn’t shouting. He rarely shouted at me. He always said he loved me too much to be mad at me.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” My eyes rolled and my chest heaved, I felt myself getting hotter, cheeks redder.

“Susannah’s dead. She fucking died and everyone was hurting. You were hurting, I was hurting! You treated me like a last resort! Like, now that you lost someone important to you—you needed someone to fill the void! Made me feel easy, like an idiot! Trying to kiss me like it didn’t change anything—like it didn’t mean anything! It ruined everything Conrad! You decided that because you couldn’t have your ego bruised by being openly emotional, you just had to keep pushing people away! You used me! ” I threw my free hand up. I was crying. I felt stupid for crying, I shouldn’t be crying over him.

“I didn’t do that! No, Y/n you were never a last resort. I thought…I thought it would help! I didn’t think it would hurt you that badly. God, why did it have to hurt us so badly?” He shouted it at the sky. A fog now hugging the trees in the distance. A rainstorm coming in by morning. Clear sky’s would soon turn dark and murky. It felt fitting.

I felt rage. Pure rage. How blind he was to why I was hurting. I had pointed him in every direction, given him hints and yet he was always the one who even with their smart eyes and quick attention, could never truly figure out what I held for him. It all bubbles out like a sickness. A burning vomit that was nothing more than a dry heave. It hurt to get out, but the relief afterwards was worth it

“Because I love you, you idiot!” My voice was loud, deafening in the heavy silence that now hung between us, “I love you, okay?” I was more quiet the second time, seeing Conrad’s big eyes and shocked expression. How his hand loosened on my wrist, I prepared for the worst. The long awaited rejection that would forever break me, tear away the last pieces of the Fisher brothers from my life all together. Our past only to be held in old Polaroids and my moms photo book.

“And I’ve known it since that day in the pier. You bought me ice cream and I realized nobodies ever cared for me like that before. It felt so good to be know so well. It felt ducking amazing to have someone like that. I cared so much about you, I’m afraid I always will. Even now I can’t shake it.” I went on and on, confessing how I felt, when I realized what always been there. I felt his touch leave me completely. It felt cold to be so alone. My tears were salty when they landed on my lips, I wonder if Conrad could taste them.

His hands were warm on my cheeks, palms pressing into my jawline so hard that the simple touch felt that much more intense. His eyes were shut, I noticed. So I closed mine too, allowing myself to give into the boy in front of me. His chest pressed against mine, we were so close, air was almost impossible to find. I could only breathe in him, everything was Conrad. I could feel him everywhere. My nose, my eyes, my ears, my fingertips. His lips molded against my perfectly, slotting themselves into place and setting off jolts of electricity in my veins. It was slow and passionate, everything I had ever dreamed it to be. Wished for. He was gentle and rough, fearful to hurt me, as if I would shatter under his touch, but the pure desire to show me he felt the same was too great to dull down his actions.

We separated with a gasp. Heaving at the lack of air, both breathless form how long it lasted and how much build up had led us here. How badly we desired it. His forehead rested against mine softly, hands sliding down to settle on my waist. He was a lot softer now, more gentle, kinder. Like now that everything had been said wordlessly, he could finally relax by having me in his hold.

Our eyelashes fluttered against the others cheeks, a soft laughter passing between us. Our smiles were b, it felt more like a scar than a scab now. To have some reassurance that he didn’t go after me because I was easy in his eyes. But because he felt the same.

“It was the day at the beach. We got sunburnt badly and you took care of me all night.” I kissed his cheek while he spoke, holding onto him just a moment longer, “You said you realized your feelings the day at the boardwalk. I found mine while you were rubbing aloe on my back.” We laughter again at the almost stupid memory. How we had both realized what we felt at rehab seemed like the most insignificant parts of our relationship. Not when Conrad had taken me to my first party and danced with me all night, not when I stayed up all night with him and held him close just for the hell of it, but when we were children.

We had been so blind to it our whole lives it was almost a tragedy. How much wasted time we had in our lives. It was something we would never get back. Something so precious, something we all had so little of. It was too late to rewrite our history. We could only hope to fix what was broke. And in the silent of the night, Conrad began the mending with the soft whisper of three simple words. Ones that came out in almost a mumble, they only reached my ears.

“I love you.” I never truly believed Conrad when he would joke how distance makes the heart grow fonder, but after what felt like a lifetime apart, it felt like the most honest statement to be made.

Conrad Fisher was mine and I was his. After all of our damaged fights and flaws, we’d found each other again. Being pulled together again by that invisible string. Sticking like glue. My heart swelled knowing he would be mine in the morning.

I will forever cling onto everything I feared, but I will feel at peace with my own inquiries while now that we are half-awake, intimate in how we hold each other. Finally, the grief subsided and I am at peace. I am myself again, he is himself with me.

I know myself better than I have in years.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher angst #team conrad #conrad x you #jeremiah fisher #y/n x character

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ellieluvr420 · 1 month

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Eye for an Eye Pt.5

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

I want to quickly stress that this is a darker fic and there will be a lot of darker, possibly triggering themes to do with mental health throughout so take that as a warning. I likely won't do warnings for each part because part of this fic for me is that you don't know what's going to happen until you read it so please do not read if you find graphic descriptions of mental illness and topics surrounding that triggering (this includes suicide, be warned). But if you do read, thank you so much, this story is really important to me and I appreciate any interaction whatsoever!

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“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Her pistol jammed into your chest as she grabbed your hair and yanked it, pulling your head backwards to meet her eyes. The force of it causing you to drop the polaroid on the floor.

“Ellie, I’m sorry.”

“You’re fucking sorry? You’re sorry you didn’t tell me you’re with the girl who bashed Joel’s head in with a golf club while they made me watch? You’re fucking sorry? Sorry’s not good enough.” She cocked the gun and you didn’t even flinch, you just stayed frozen in your place as you pictured Abby, your sweet Abby, before everything happened and suddenly a switch flipped, you wouldn’t die before she did, you had to keep going.

“Wait! Ellie, look, I know it’ll be hard to believe me, but I still want to help you. I want her dead just as much as you do.”

“How do you expect me to believe that?”

“Because it’s the truth. Yes, I was in love with her, but she broke my heart when she left without telling me, she didn’t care about me, she left me to rot on my own and when she came back she still wouldn’t tell me where she had went, she watched me crumble, become a shell of myself, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep and it didn’t change anything for her, she ruined me. Then you told me what she had done and that was it, she wasn’t my Abby anymore, you want to kill her and I want to help, that’s the truth Ellie.” She loosened her grip on your hair and retracted her gun as she took two steps back from you, shaking her head like she was trying to stop your words entering her ears.

“So- so what, you help me kill her and then you just live happily ever after? You’re full of shit.”

“No Ellie, I was going to kill her and then kill myself.” The words fell out of your lips before you even had time to process what you were thinking. There was silence between you both, she just stood and stared and you never let your eyes leave the floor as you pinched at the skin on your arm, you’re real, this is real, you’re conscious.

“W-what, why?” You chuckled at her bewilderment like the answer to her question was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because I’m basically dead anyway, I signed my death warrant the second I agreed to help you, they’ll figure it out sooner or later but they won’t find you before you get to them. I accepted my fate when I agreed to help you because I can’t live with her but I can’t live without her so I don’t see myself being able to live like this much longer.”

“Like what?”

“My mind is splintered, I keep saying things in my head but different words are coming out of my mouth and I have no idea what I said in place of what I was thinking. I keep blacking out, I’m losing time, one minute I’m walking out of the theatre with you and the next we’re in Hillcrest but I can’t find you because apparently I wandered off without a trace. I don’t even know if you were telling the truth to Jesse when you said I saved you from two clickers on the way there because I have no memory from when we left the theatre to when I found that Wolf. I don’t remember the journey from... the house by the hospital to- to here. I reached for the door handle to leave and instead I was opening the window for us to climb through. Earlier today I imagined that I strangled Abby to death and it felt so real until I snapped back to reality and she was sitting right in front of me. When I passed out as we came in, what happened in my head was that as I got through the window I turned back to see Abby following me in instead of you. She grabbed me and she- I don’t even know what the fuck she did but it felt like I was dying. I’m going fucking insane and there’s nothing I can do to stop it because Abby broke my heart and dragged my soul away from me too. I am nothing, I will never be anything again.” You sobbed, choking on the lump in your throat as you just tried to keep going. “The first time I even felt like I was attached to my body in months was in that fucking house with you Ellie and then it happened all over again and I was screaming and crying but I wasn’t because I was kissing you back and I actually felt real but in my head I was begging for you not to become a monster like me. I can’t breathe, I can’t sleep, I can’t function because the person I trusted with my life is slowly killing me. I’d rather die than keep living like this but she doesn’t get to just move on and forget about me all over again once I’m gone. She has to pay too. I know you’re not telling me everything about why she killed Joel but I don’t care, I want to die and I want to take her with me.” You suck a breath in to try and steady your voice and clear your mind. “I’m sorry for lying, I really am. I shouldn’t have been an asshole about you not telling me about Dina because I’ve done worse but I have no control anymore and I just saw red when you told me about her. I haven’t always been a monster like this I swear, I’m just- I'm too far gone to save. So I was gonna help you kill her and then kill myself. That’s the truth, I swear.” Fuck, why did you say that? Why did you actually just tell her that?

You feel dizzy, out of breath from your monologue. You don't want to look at Ellie, to see her reaction, you know it won't be good, you're surprised she hasn't shot you already, you just let the tears stream down your cheeks as you stare at the floor.

"Why didn't you say anything when I found you in Hillcrest?"

"It was the first time I properly blacked out for a long time, I was scared and I thought you'd think I was mad and shoot me there and then, I can't die until I know she'll be there waiting for me." It was grim, hearing your words, you couldn't imagine what Ellie was thinking.

"What if we kill her and you go back to n- you stop feeling all?-" She cuts herself off, unable to find a phrase to use that seemed appropriate.

"Stop feeling fucking insane?" You both chuckle quietly, it was bittersweet, more bitter than sweet.

"Sorry."

"Don't be, that's what I am, I doubt that'll change but even if it does, it won't change my mind. This is what has to happen, I know it doesn't make sense, to you anyway, but this is it for me, I don't have a future anymore because I can't have one with her. It's pathetic but she was the only thing that brought light into this shitty life and she ripped it away when she left, I'm sick of living in the dark."

"You're the most complicated person I've ever met."

"Could say the same to you."

"What?" She scoffs.

"I know you love Dina, you wouldn't call what happened between us a complication?"

"No, it's not complicated in my mind. It's about the simplest thing I've got going on up there these days." She taps her temple twice, it was your turn to scoff, she had to be joking. There's nothing simple about it, you had promised yourself you'd keep your distance because you couldn't get wrapped up in anything that might alter the course of your plan and that included Ellie... and her girlfriend.

"It won't happen again Ellie." Her face drops from the cheeky smirk that had been playing on her features, her eyes fluttering shut as she nods her head and bites the inside of her cheek.

"Please don't... you know... Come back to Jackson with us. You can start fresh." Her eyes lit up as she finished her sentence, a new sense of hope coursing through her veins that dissipates the second she meets your eyes.

"I can't do that, you know that, besides, you should want me dead for what I've done, why the fuck would you want me to come back with you?"

"I don't know but I can't just leave you here to die. I can't let you go." Quiet falls over you both, you shouldn't have asked her that, you knew the answer would only hurt more. You could never be what she needs, Dina is what she needs. You don't know Dina, but you know she's what's good for Ellie, she's the opposite of you, she's the light where you're the dark. She's the warm when you're the cold. Ellie deserved light and warmth, not cold and dark, that's all you'd ever be and that's all Ellie would ever want, it was sad, crushing but it was reality. You would always be Abby's even in death.

Why the fuck did you kiss her? You're fucking evil for doing this to her.

"When this is all done, go home with Dina and move on, forget about me and everything that happened here."

"I can't do that, you know that." She mimics your words and it stings.

"Ellie, I'm a fucking monster, I'm evil and I'll only dirty you. All I've done, you don't deserve someone like me in your life. I'll only bring you pain and suffering and I'll ruin you and your home. Leave me behind and get out while you can, before it catches up to you, don't get dragged down with me when I eventually go." Silence. She doesn't speak, only furrows her eyebrows as she steps towards you.

"It just happened again." Her reply confused you, it was obvious from your face that you hadn't caught on. "You didn't say anything just then. You just stared at me, not even at me, you stared through me."

"No." You breathed out, your voice wobbling.

"I'm sorry." She sounded sincere, she was, she watched as you disappeared behind your eyes and then reappeared like it was nothing, you were struggling to hold it together in front of her and she knew it.

"FUCK!" You curse out. "See what I mean, I'm barely alive anyway, what fucking difference does it make?"

"All the fucking difference! You're alive, you don't feel it but you're alive, you're here. Being alive in the world we live in is a fucking miracle, you can't just throw it away."

"I'm not just throwing it away Ellie. I can't see another way out of this. Just let me help you finish this and then forget about me. I'm not gonna change my mind so stop fucking trying." You snap, your voice harsh and distant as you look anywhere but her. You couldn't, you knew it would be too hard. Ellie stepped closer pleading with you in her head to just look at her like you'd hear her thoughts but you wouldn't, couldn't look at her and it sent shooting pains through her chest. She still hadn't learnt how to deal with sadness, it had always just turned to anger. The anger she could deal with, she could process to a certain extent, but sadness just lingered in her and caused her body to ache and her mind to become clouded, slightly separating her from the world. You were sad, gut-wrenchingly heartbroken, she saw herself in you and it only fed her delusions more, you would both finish this and you wouldn't feel this way anymore, that was the only possible outcome in her mind. She felt hope, the tiniest shimmer of light in a sea of darkness, almost being drowned out but still there. Though it was hard for the light to compete, her anger at your stubbornness and your lies crashing through her mind. She wanted this to work but she was still so aggrieved by your cold shoulder.

"How can I trust you now?" Her voice was sharp, covering the real feelings bubbling up. She trusted you, even after finding out about your relationship with Abby, she trusted you but she just needed to hear you speak again.

"I have patrol with Manny, I was just gonna kill him then and tell you but if you wanna see for yourself, I'll tell you where we're going to be and when. But if you get caught, it's not on me." She doesn't make a move to speak, only wincing slightly, almost unnoticeably at the coldness of your last statement. You wait and wait but she doesn't reply, she just stares, the look on her face screaming of dissatisfaction. "Look I know it's not Abby but it's only gonna be me and Manny on that patrol so when I come back alone and say he died, I'm gonna get interrogated for hours, it's protocol. I'm putting myself at risk here before I can even get to Abby because I want her to feel the pain of losing all of her friends. If I wasn't serious about all of this, why would I risk killing him in a way that could get me in serious trouble? Yes I want to end it but not until after she's gone, think about it Ellie, I'm doing this because I want to speed up the timeline. I want her dead, please believe me." Even as you beg, you still sound cold, the temperature around you both dropping to the point where there ware goosebumps prickling your skin.

"Fine. Now why don't you run off back to your little girlfriend and let me sleep." Little wasn't exactly the right word but Ellie had lost all control of her mouth, she sounded rough and hateful and she was anything but that towards you, being around you after all you had said was just too much of a reminder of the reality of what's to come and she wasn't ready to face that.

You didn't fight, you didn't have it in you. You just turned on your heel and walked away from her without another glance at the girl's defeated face. The polaroid still laying on the floor where you had been stood, abandoned by you.

tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv @a-little-bit-of-everybody @chrry1ovr @bready101

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothing | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Back at it again with another Taylor Swift inspired fic because I'm mentally ill, babes :)

Warnings: some anxiety

"They said the end is coming. Everyone's up to something. I find myself running home to your Sweet nothings. Outside they're push and shoving. You're in the kitchen humming. All that you ever wanted from me was Sweet nothing."

Bucky stood in the doorway, silently watching you. He loved to observe, to drink you in without you knowing. He liked seeing how you lived in moments when you thought you were alone, without your self-conscious tendencies or insecurities.

These quiet moments belonged to him- only him. And he never took them for granted. He committed to memory everything about you, every small detail he could catch.

He loved knowing that, somehow, the two of you crossed paths. You found each other despite all the nightmares. And he could never put into words how grateful he was to have you in his life. Even when he was away, just knowing that you lived in the same timeline eased his anxiety.

But after watching you for a while, he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t resist holding you. He wrapped his strong arms around you from behind and pulled you flush to his chest. His stubbled chin rested on your shoulder as his lips found your neck.

“Good morning, doll.” His voice was low, gravelly from sleep. “Whatcha got goin’ on here?”

You reached up and tangled your fingers in Bucky’s hair, eliciting a quiet sigh from his chest. “And good morning to you, Sarge. I thought I’d make us some French toast.”

Bucky’s “mmmmmm” vibrated against your back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

A quick spin brought you face to face with him. He always looked so cute in the morning, with his tired eyes and disheveled hair.

“You’re finally home, babe. I wanted to make you your favorite breakfast.” His dog tags clinked as you toyed with them for the first time since his return.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you,” Bucky said, dotting a kiss to your forehead. “Let me help,” he dropped a kiss to your nose. “Put me to work, sweetheart,” finally, his lips met yours.

“No, you don’t have to do anything-”

“But I want to!” Bucky’s hands made quick work of your sides, tickling you mercilessly. “Let me help, let me help, let me help!”

“Okay, okay!” you breathed, “you can help!” It took several moments for your laughter to cease and your breath to return; Bucky knew exactly how to get to you. “I’m putting you on bacon and fruit.”

He followed your orders and quickly got to work cutting up strawberries and cooking bacon. These were the moments Bucky missed most. He missed the safety, the domesticity, the peace you brought. An unstoppable smile forced his lips upward as he listened to you talk about your dreams from the previous night and the latest update on your work drama.

It wasn’t flashy or exciting, but it was warm. Comfortable. And while others may have been bored with such a menial task, Bucky reveled in it. He never thought he’d experience the quiet things, the soft things. But now that he had, he couldn't get enough. He wanted to fold laundry with you. Grocery shop. Cook dinner. All the normal things he'd been without for years.

And cutting up strawberries for his favorite person to put on her French toast made him happier than he ever thought possible.

With breakfast finished and the kitchen clean, you gave Bucky an expectant look.

“Yes?” He pressed his lips to yours, tasting syrup and strawberries. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m just wondering what you wanna do today!” you told him. “You pick. We can do whatever you want.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed. It was so quick that you almost missed it, but you’d gotten good and picking up his miniscule indicators of stress. “Oh, I hadn’t… I hadn’t really thought about, sweetheart,” he lied. “Give me a little time to mull it over?”

“Of course, babe. No rush.” You planted a quick, syrup-flavored peck to his lips, “I’m gonna go jump in the shower, you think it over and let me know.”

Bucky remained in the kitchen, conflicted. He knew what he wanted to do, how he wanted to spend the day. But he feared you wouldn’t like his plan. He knew you wanted to do something fun, like ice skating or axe throwing. But Bucky’s idea was simpler, more understated. And the last thing he wanted was to let you down.

When you emerged from the shower, you threw another expectant look his way. “So, what’s the verdict, Buck?”

You were ready to do whatever he wanted- no matter what. He’d been gone for just over a week, and letting him pick the entire day’s itinerary was only fair. There were things he missed out on while he way away. Things he didn’t get to do, things he wanted to do with you. And so, if he wanted to spend the day bar hopping or strolling through the farmer’s market, you’d happily oblige.

More than anything, though, you wanted to do absolutely nothing. You wanted to melt into the couch with Bucky’s body wrapped around yours. You wanted to listen to his heartbeat, play with his hair, hold his head against your chest. The safe, quiet world inside the apartment you shared was your favorite place to be. It gave you a sense of comfort and warmth you’d never experienced before. And you wanted to spend every second in the oasis you'd created together.

Sure, going to the movies or the museum was always fun- everything you did with Bucky was fun. You could’ve spent hours watching paint dry with him and it would probably make the list of your top ten favorite days. Time with him passed quickly. Easily.

But keeping him all to yourself, holed up in your cozy apartment was your favorite way to spend the day. Just the two of you, reveling in the other’s presence. His safe return was all you ever hoped for. And now that he was home, you needed some quiet time with him. You needed to feel him next to you- no distractions, no disturbances- to assure you that he was really back. That he really returned to you in one piece.

And maybe it was selfish that you wanted to keep him from the outside world. But it was the only thing that could ease your mind after he spent a long mission away.

It wasn’t fair, though. You knew he was more than just your boyfriend. He surely wanted to spend the day catching up on what he missed while away. There was an exhibit at the Met you knew he was interested in; his favorite author had released a new book just yesterday. There was a whole world outside your apartment- no matter how hard you tried to deny it. And so, you resigned to keep your desires to yourself. Even if you didn’t feel like taking a trip to the pier or the library or the arcade. Because, truthfully, you would’ve been more than happy do anything Bucky wanted- as long as you got to do it with him.

Bucky shifted his weight and brought a hand up to his dog tags- a nervous habit you’d come to know. “Would you…” he sighed, “would you be disappointed if I said I didn’t wanna do anything today?”

You cocked your head to the side, “what?”

Shame bloomed in Bucky’s chest. It pushed through the muscle and bone and rooted itself just beneath his skin- he almost feared you could see it. “I know I just got back, and there’s probably things you want us to do together. But I’d rather just spend the day at home… if that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Or…” he found himself backpedaling, regretting his words. “We can still go out and do something- just a little later? We can compromise; I don’t want you to be bored. I just want some time together- some time for us. Just us. I want you all to myself for a while… if you don’t mind.”

You took his hand from his dog tags and encapsuled it with your own. You wished he wasn’t so nervous about expressing himself. You wished he was more comfortable speaking his mind. But he saw his presence in your life as an interruption, a nuisance, a tumor. He wondered when you’d excise him.

Society kept him on thin ice, no matter how many times he redeemed himself. And though he knew you loved him; he was scared of messing up the life you shared. He feared the ice beneath him would crack. And without you, he’d drown in the freezing water.

“You don’t want to do anything?” you asked, “you just wanna stay here?”

He gave another nod, his eyes downcast.

A massive smile spread across your face as you melted into his body. “I was secretly hoping you’d wanna stay in.”

Bucky reach down and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your face toward his. “You were?”

“Yeah, I mean, I always have a good time with you- no matter what we’re doing.” You thought back on all the things you’d experience together, the trips and the museum visits and the concerts. “But- I don’t know, I just like doing nothing with you. I like when it’s just us and we hang out at home, you know?”

Bucky wasn’t sure he heard you right. “Really? I thought that…” he rolled his eyes at his own assumption. Of course, he'd expect the worst. And of course, he was wrong. “I thought I was kind of... I don't know, anchoring you here. Dragging you down with all my excuses to stay home. I’ve been worried that I was boring you.”

The words made your heart crack. They nearly pushed you off balance, forcing you to take a step back and steady yourself. “You thought… you thought I was bored?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re dating a ‘superhero’- or whatever…” he cringed at the word, knowing that ‘hero’ didn’t apply to him. “I’ve been thinking that… that maybe you had this grand idea in your head of what a relationship with me- with an Avenger- would look like, you know? Stark galas, me saving the world, exciting things happening every day.” A deep sigh left his chest as his hand once again found his dog tags. “And I think we both know that my life isn’t nearly that cool or interesting. It’s mostly just PTSD and people harassing me on the subway.”

“Bucky, baby, I’m not bored-”

“Are you sure?” The doubt in his eyes cut you to the bone.

“Yes. Oh my god- I only suggested that we go do something because I didn’t want you to be bored."

"I'm not bored, I could never be bored- not with you." The words came quick and firm, like he thought he could stem your leaking anxiety with his assurances. "I'd just so rather be here. With you- just you. And going out always ends up making me feel like shit anyway, so..." At least twice during every outing, Bucky dealt with hecklers. Harassers. They called him names and threw things at him. Screamed and ran when he came near. He'd had the cops called on him more times than he could count.

"Buck, I’m a homebody, babe- I always have been. I just didn’t wanna tell you because I thought you wanted to go do stuff. Honestly," you laughed, "I fucking love doing nothing.”

Bucky pulled you to his chest where you belonged. The unfounded fears he held bout your relationship never came to fruition. He knew they were inaccurate and misguided. But he couldn’t stop himself from believing them.

“And hey, I didn’t start dating you because you’re an Avenger- I was never looking for high speed car chases or you fighting maniacal supervillains in our living room,” you said. “I just wanna be with you. Plain and simple.”

Bucky knew you were telling the truth- but how long could this last? How much time did he have with you before you grew tired of this life with him? How long would he be enough? He didn’t have anything to offer you- not money or social capital. You were simply worth more than Bucky.

In almost record time, he found himself spiraling with no chance of return.

But, as though you’d read his mind, you saved him from the rabbit hole. “I don’t want anything from you- no galas or photo shoots. I just want to be with you. I want you. You’re enough- more than enough.”

“But, doll-”

You held up a hand silencing him. “What do you want from me?”

He stared at you, confused. “I don’t… what do you mean?”

“What are you hoping to get out of this? By being in a relationship with me, what are you trying to gain?”

“Nothing…” he said, his voice soft yet firm. “I love you- I just want to be with you.”

“Exactly!” You tugged him into the living room and pulled him down onto the couch, demanding that his body rest atop yours. “This is all I want from you. I just want time, closeness. That’s all- that’s all I’ll ever ask of you.”

Bucky’s muscles slackened as the feeling of your touch washed over him. He breathed easier, felt his heart rate slow. His chin rested in the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching at your skin. “This is what I want from you, doll. All I’ll ever want.”

“Good,” you gave a contented sigh. “And let me tell ya, now that the truth is on the table and we’re gonna be staying in more often… we’re gonna save so much money.”

“Money we can use for take-out!” Bucky said. “I know we ate breakfast like half an hour ago but the anxiety burned off all my French toast. So, I’m gonna need to order some lunch soon.” He pressed a line of kisses to your neck before hopping up from the couch in search of the stash of take-out menus.

This was where you wanted to be. Apartment 381 on Bleeker Street. Complete with its warped floors and painted-shut windows. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was home. This was where Bucky told you he loved you for the first time. Where you cooked him recipes from your childhood. Where he almost burned down the building because he didn’t know how to use an air fryer.

The small space with its water damage and metric ton of take-out menus was better any high-profile event or fancy gala. It was your home- the home you shared with Bucky. And that’s all you ever wanted.

——————————

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

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purplefangirl42 · 7 months

Text

Clonetober- Day 13

Prompt: “We’ll patch you up soon, don’t worry.”/wounds/scars/firefighter AU

Prompt list by @ladysongmaster Divider by djarrex

Tags/Warnings: Mention of injury and injury care, mild language

Chip shook his head in exasperation as he watched Lena walk away from him. She had given him orders to make sure Admiral Yung was tended to first, practically tearing herself away from him when he tried to help her with her injured arm. Still muttering to himself, he walked over to the cot where Yung was lying.

He knew there wasn’t much he would be able to do to help the Admiral while they were on the surface. He needed to get him back to the Monitor. The bruises covering the man’s torso were the source of most of Chip’s concern. His initial scan had indicated that he had at least one broken rib. At least he was conscious, which was a good thing in Chip’s eyes.

“Where’s General Orim?” Yung asked. “Is she alright? Captain Sparx said she was shot.”

“She’s over there, dealing with the mess we seem to be in the middle of,” Chip said. “She wouldn’t let me treat her, insisting that I take care of you instead.”

Yung tried to sit up on his cot, and let out a loud groan of pain. Chip placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him down. There was no telling what further damage he could do by moving around too much.

“Just lay still, Admiral. We’ll patch you up soon, don’t worry.”

Yung nodded and closed his eyes, his face scrunched in pain from his attempt to move. Chip knew he had a stim canister from his kit that he could give him. It wasn’t much, but it would hopefully help with the pain. He left the cot and walked over to his supplies, searching for something he could use to clean up some of the less serious wounds while the stim took effect.

He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned to see Lena approaching him. She had a bandage on the upper part of her right arm, covering the spot he had examined earlier. He wondered if she had done that herself.

“How is he?” she asked.

“I’ve done as much as I can here. I’ll give a stim to help him stay stable for now, but what he really needs is some time in a bacta tank.”

Chip could see the stress his statement had put on Lena as she considered what he said. He saw her lift her hand to her chin and rub at it worriedly. Trying to lighten her mood and ease some of the tension, he tried a joke.

“You know, you look like General Kenobi when you do that. All you’re missing is the beard.”

The dirty look he got in response was enough indication to him that his joke had worked, at least a little bit. Lessening her anxiety would help quell his own a little. In turn, he knew that the stress he was feeling would only heighten hers, so he tried to keep a sense of calm about him. Her next words, however, elevated his stress again.

“This battle needs to end quickly,” she said. “I need to go down there and figure out what’s going on.”

Chip reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could walk away from him again. He knew his concern was written clearly across his face, which she would hate, but he didn’t want her to do anything reckless.

“Lena, you can’t. Your arm…”

“My arm is fine,” Lena said, pulling her wrist from his grasp. “Crosshair patched it up and gave me a stim. It barely even hurts.”

Chip crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows at her. He didn’t really feel that the medical advice of a sniper should supersede his own. Just because he was able to patch up her arm didn’t mean that she was good to go.

“What about the rest of you?” he asked. “Sparx said you flew off the speeder and hit the ground pretty hard. You could have other injuries that aren’t visible.”

Lena spread her arms out wide and moved them around in all directions, making a show of bending at the waist and lifting her legs one at a time as if she was trying to prove to him that she was fine.

"I'm fine, Chip. The worst thing is probably a few bruises."

"That could just be your adrenaline talking. I can't, in good conscience, approve you as battle-ready."

Grabbing the stim canister from his kit, Chip left Lena standing there as he returned to Admiral Yung’s. He could hear her frustrated sigh behind him as he walked away. When he reached Yung’s side, he pressed the canister against his skin and released the medicine from within. He hoped it would be enough to help the man get through the time it took for them to open a path back up to the ship.

Once he had cleaned the blood off Yung’s face and treated the gashes it had come from, Chip gathered his supplies and started getting ready for the wave of injured men that would be coming up from the battlefield.

As he worked, he glanced over to the edge of the plateau they were stationed on. Lena was standing beside Crosshair, who lay on the edge watching the battle. They seemed to be having some kind of argument. The sound of a loud explosion from below grabbed Lena’s attention and before he could blink, Chip watched as she leapt off the side of the cliff.

“Damn it!” he shouted, running to the spot she had just vacated.

Chip watched as she tore towards the battle at an alarming speed, her long braid trailing behind her. He couldn’t bear to watch what was going to happen, and after giving the sniper lying on the ground a dirty look, he stormed back to his station.

“Why does everyone make it so difficult for me to keep them all alive?”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Please reblog, like, and comment! I cheated slightly on this one and reused stuff from chapter 4 of "Bad Timing" but told it from Chip's POV. (Someday this man WILL get a break, I promise)

#clonetober2023 #star wars: the clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #original characters #the clone wars #clone trooper oc #clone troopers

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bugbyte · 5 months

Text

Today was good! I’m a little overwhelmed!

3:30 am posting because I’m feeling slightly wound thanks to today being a whole day, but it wasn’t a bad day?

Short version: bunch of appointments, thankfully all online, but after last week being stress central this was tolerable. I got my MMJ eval and it was quick and easy and if anything I over prepared because I’m so used to not being believed and having to back myself up with data. (Which I have to gather and keep for myself because medicine is apparently just a free for all where no one communicates with each other through the online app they have specifically so they can all access data about me from each other! Neat!)

Anyway that was a major relief and I was ready to cry because they said that this should work really well with the conditions and symptoms I have. I’ll probably write something up on the process later (because I would’ve liked a plain English walkthrough of what to expect but that’s ok) but I got my card from the state, which is all digital now, so welcome to the future, I guess.

We headed out to a pretty well reviewed and priced medical dispensary in the area and had a long info session on what would work best for me and landed on some low dose (for now) capsules and gummies. Then we got fried chicken because I’d had enough for one day and went home to see if it would work.

I took a capsule, ate my chicken, and waited. They did advise taking it with a fatty food (could’ve been peanut butter or avocado or anything really; we just got chicken for its uh, health…improving….properties….yeah that sounds right) It took like a solid hour and change to notice anything, and the effects were pretty minor.

I kept trying to explain what was happening to Delade but it was a very subtle thing and hard to get across. Basically the calmest I’ve felt in ages (bonus) and like a slight tiredness, like when you’re tired at the end of the day but not exhausted or like drugged tired if you take something to get to sleep and it hits hard. Just a nice soft calm feeling.

I got brave and tried adding in an extra half a gummy (watermelon flavor!) and that hit much more quickly and mostly just added to the soft feeling. Trying to put it in better words, it was like the different between laying directly on the hard floor, or laying on a puffy blanket on the floor. You can still feel the floor, but it’s much more comfortable than otherwise. I didn’t really feel particularly loopy other than finding a few things funnier than they probably actually were. I think I would compare it in drowsiness more to like…if you’ve been given an opioid after surgery or dental work or something, it’s kind of more like that than feeling just knocked right out. I always felt like these kinds of things gave me a sort of “cozy,” safe feeling while still being conscious enough to do some light things, and this was similar. Everybody’s different though so I might be a weirdo.

So yeah, it does work! I wasn’t expecting like a 100% change in pain levels, and this will definitely take some fine tuning to get right, but there was a difference for sure. I had the makings of a nasty headache after being stressed out all afternoon, which didn’t seem affected much by anything I took so that’s interesting. If I hadn’t had the headache I probably would have attempted some comic work but staring directly into a screen felt like a bad idea. In any case the sharp edges of the pain in the rest of my body got filed way down and I’m pretty amazed overall.

I know this can work now! So I can try again tomorrow! Hopefully with less stress headache so I can get a better gauge on how it actually feels! And hopefully try to draw.

So now I just have to figure out how not to feel weird about this talking to various doctors. Some recommended it, some I can imagine being less positive, but I think the anxiety about being judged is mostly in my head.

Anyway! It was a good experience overall, both the process for getting the card and actually trying the drug itself. If it’s something you’ve been looking into and have questions I can try and answer based on my (admittedly brief) experience so far. I only know how things work in NY, but being pretty anxious I get how it can feel more enormous to figure out when you don’t know the whole scope of a thing or what it’s like to actually do.

This entire thing makes me cackle btw because in fifth grade I won some DARE essay contest in school and I think got some kind of gift card I spent on art supplies, and a hat with the DARE lion mascot thing on it, which I think I still have and should probably start wearing for maximum dumbassery.

#blog #healthposting #chronic pain #medical marijuana #mmj #pain management #pain relief

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pornoes · 11 months

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I finally figured out how to explain why I’ve been so irritated constantly at my husband again these past 2 weeks. It’s nothing new (which is the problem lol) but I guess going to couples therapy for 2 months and seeing an iota of change was just enough for me to put the rose colored glasses on again.

You don’t have to read all this but I’m not gonna lie I would love some validation right now

I just hate how I’ll have so much on my mind – deep, meaningful thoughts/fears/hopes and I CANNOT talk him about any of it. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my past struggles with mental health, sexuality, my parents… and i know he is not someone I can confide in. For a while I was still telling myself that talking about heavy stuff wasn’t something necessary. Or that I was the problem for wanting to talk about it, that I was the problem for not feeling any better when I did try to go to him. But like…. I confide in my friends all the time. I have heartfelt and soulbearing conversations with my friends frequently and with ease, and I always feel so much better when I do.

But when I have talked to him it’s always made me feel worse. While I was realizing and coming to terms with the fact that I was raised in a really terrible household, I tried to talk to him about some of the psychological games and stress my mother put on me. He just stared at me blankly. When I recounted how my dad– for once in front of other people including him– called me the wrong name and told a story that showed how detached he was, my husband told me that was normal. That my dad being there for only one week every month my whole life was fine.

He’s consistently responded to things in ways that had caused me to backslide, and require me to undo additional damage in therapy.

I told him how my mother read that godforsaken “walking on eggshells” book and then used my BPD diagnosis against me. She would tell me I was crazy, that I was feeling emotions I shouldn’t, and anything bad that to me was my fault and I deserved. I couldn’t confront her because if i ever said something was wrong, she would tell me that it was horrible living with me because she felt like she was walking on eggshells. So I couldn’t ever complain because then I was just proving her right. I told him how scary and horrible the phrase “walking on eggshells” is when it’s used against me.

Anyway. I told him that story once. And then we got in a fight recently because of the ol “I don’t want to have sex with you cuz your fat” thing he said back in 2016. And during the fight he told me he could never talk to me about anything because living with me was like walking on eggshells.

He’s used my diagnosis against me so many times. Which is actually hilarious now because 2 different psychologists have told me I don’t meet the criteria for BPD. Hes used things against me that I’ve confided in him about. Hes picked on my insecurities and fears.

And the kicker is that I would NEVER do that to him. I never have and I never would. How hateful, how cruel. I know his insecurities and would have the power to twist the knife like that and I refuse to. Hes self conscious about his intelligence, like pretty intensely. Well my old roommate called him stupid (half-joking, but only half) and I could tell it hurt him. Okay so she was really shitty for a lot of reasons and I was already planning on not renewing the lease… but I broke the lease within that month because that was the final straw. I MOVED to protect him from his own bad self esteem. And he took my actual trauma and shoved it in my face to get me to shut up.

So how am I supposed to trust him after all that?

#text post

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deleteddewewted · 2 years

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May I request sweet with deku reacting to a rainbow baby

Just if you don't know a rainbow baby is a healthy baby born after a miscarriage or still birth

□ anon

Sweet: Rainbows

Midoriya x Gn! Reader

❤️🖤Sweet And Sour Event (May 21 - June 26)(JJK, MHA, KNY Characters Only!)❤️🖤

❤️🖤Sweet And Sour Event Masterlist❤️🖤

W: Angst, AFAB Reader, Mentions of death, Mild description of stillbirth, This was so fucking depressing.

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

He remembered when you presented him with the pregnancy test back when you were both in your early 20s. He never thought he would become a parent so soon into his hero career but he couldn’t say he wasn’t excited either. He dreamed of having a child of his own with the person he loved and being able to raise and nurture his child with them. He remembered buying everything he saw in the mall that might be of use to his future child. He bought so many green onesies and so much All Might baby merch. He blushed when you brought home a set of his own merch and the green bunny plushie he had bought for you back when you were both in UA. He decorated the nursery with you. He painted the walls green, built the crib, and bought all of the possible things to make taking care of your future child easy. He watched your stomach swell with each passing month. A voice in the back of his head kept telling him that this was it, that all of his efforts of climbing up the hero ranks were for this purpose. To build a family with you and to help keep you all safe.

But around your third trimester, even after feeling the baby, feeling them grow and develop, it turned into a stillbirth. You were mortified and devastated, and so was he, but the loss was worse for you because you believed that it was all your fault. You were the one that had to go to the hospital to go through induced labor. You were the one who had to push out the baby. He remembered watching you hold your child and speak to it like it was conscious. You handed him your child and asked him to wish them goodbye. It was tough. It was excruciatingly painful to watch you cope and Midoriya made sure to do whatever he could to make the entire thing less painful.

He went to therapy with you to make sure you were able to get whatever you felt out. He supported your choice to have your baby cremated and buried. He made sure that the nursery was locked so that you wouldn’t walk into it and feel pained by the thought of “what if”. He also went to therapy, mainly to seek answers if he was doing the right thing by trying to get you far away from the things that reminded you about the child you both didn’t get to have. He cried while at work, it mostly got worse after saving a family or writing up reports about child abuse. Everything reminded him of the small being he got to hold once at birth and last when he buried them.

You both didn’t have sex for a year. Your body needed to heal and he wanted you to be at your best possible health. Mentally and physically it all took a huge toll on you and he wasn’t going to pressure you into anything. You both slept in separate beds for the first two weeks before being comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed again. You slept on one side and he slept on the other, your backs facing each other. It hurt to sleep in the same bed and not hold you in his arms like he once used to do but he understood and he was willing to wait. Once you were comfortable and in better health, you began to be more intimate with him. It was very slow. You would usually touch him and have him do the same to you before attempting anything more. You wanted to feel loved like he didn’t blame you and loved you all the same even after the entire…incident. He would usually tell you how much he loved you when you both became intimate. It was more for him since he felt like his high-stress job, which has already shown to push your stress levels up when he left for long periods or was injured, was the cause for the loss of your guy’s child. It was something you both dreaded, separating you mean, you didn’t want to leave him and he didn’t want to leave you but none of you communicated on this fear.

Years later, after the physical and mental wounds healed, you and Midoriya were happily married for half a decade and in your early 30s. Your sexual relationship had healed and you both were actively trying for a baby. You both wanted the family you struggled to have, and yes, you both had adopted a precious little girl at some point but you both still wanted a biological child, just another kid so that your daughter would have someone to grow up with. You both already had the picket white fence with the green and floral garden you both dreamed of having but just one last person, just one more child would complete the dream.

“Izuku? Babe?” You were standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom and had a small stick in your hand. You showed it to him, a positive test stared back at him. You both got to work after confirming it a few more times. You were pregnant again. Midoriya made sure to retire for the whole pregnancy so he could spend it taking care of you. You both lived comfortably so money was never going to be an issue. He also wanted to be there in order for his daughter to adjust to the concept of becoming an older sister, and a role model to her younger sibling.

Once at the hospital, the nurses had you hooked to a few machines and induced your labor to help you. You were nervous once the contractions began. What if you did something wrong? What if you lost the baby again? What if this? What if that? What if-. Midoriya noticed the panic developing on your features and he quickly grabbed your hand. He gave you a little squeeze and a reassuring smile.

“You’ll be fine, love. You can do this.” With that, you watched the nurses flood into your room with the doctor and listened to the instructions they gave you.

You didn’t know how to explain the feeling of holding your child and feeling their breath against your chest. A healthy baby boy with your hair color and freckles like his father. You cried as you held your baby close to you. The warmth of their little body and their soft breathing became the evidence that this child was living. You looked at your husband and mouthed out “thank you” as you continued to silently sob. You both were left crying messes as you basked in your son’s birth and planned how you were going to introduce him to his older sister who had been bouncing with excitement since the day you both broke the news to her. The dream was completed, it was real. You both had that picket white fence with two wonderful children and one who forever remains in your hearts.

#deku x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya x gn!reader #midoriya izuku #ask #dd answers #dd speaks #mha #bnha #my hero academia

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apcthetics · 2 years

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11 questions to get to know your ocs: kal sekh edition.

what are their eating habits like ? how do they look after themselves ? do they exercise ? play any sports ?

so kal did have some years of medical school & then on top of that, his father got very sick and would have had to keep a pretty strict diet and lifestyle for the months that he was doing treatment, so i think kal himself is definitely very conscious of his health and looking after himself in order to try and stave off any sort of genetic issues that might come from his father being sick. there were a lot of habits he picked up just from being around and having to take care of their dad, and then the rest of it comes from him being kind of scared about the idea that he could also get very sick and lose his health which is something he’s very blessed to have, so he’s very conscious about looking after himself. if it wasn’t for the fact that his job was pretty straining and he’s on his feet and moving things and heavy equipment and literal people for like 12 hours a day every day, then he probably would play sports or go to the gym or something but it’s not really necessary nor does he have a lot of time for it. but he definitely pays attention.

i actually think that he’s probably mostly vegetarian, and doesn’t really eat red meat at all because it wasn’t cooked very often in their house growing up and it just doesn’t really appeal to him. despite being a workaholic mess he’s very careful about what he eats and when he eats and paying attention to when he needs to eat, and there’s a lot of just snacking on fruit when he’s around minding his business like his fridge is full of oranges and shit like that you know.

the only vice he has is that he drinks an excessive amount of coffee and doesn’t sleep well. disregarding the fact that midnight shifts are difficult to manage and his circadian rhythm is pretty fucked up because of that, he also just has a lot of undiagnosed anxiety that keeps him awake and moving around and he just. he doesn’t sleep well so two pots of coffee are a necessity to keep him alive and functioning and he is pretty reliant on it.

are they a big partier ? do they do drugs, drink alcohol ? what’s their stance on these things ? are they promiscuous ? do they prefer one-night stands, or do they like dating ? what about online dating ? why ?

this will come off as a surprise to nobody, but kal is not a big partier. it’s not something that he’s interested in and he doesn’t go out of his way to find the kind of places that he can go out or party or anything like that. he’s always been pretty quiet and shy and likes to be background noise, so anywhere that he has to interact with strangers or insert himself into other conversations is a bit stressful for him. he also has a habit of seeing all the potential ways that anything could go wrong, and that stresses him out. he’s glad to go when other people invite him out, though ; he loves being the supporting side character to the more outgoing people in his life ( like gina and sami and eren ) but he’s usually the sober friend and usually just there because he still has fun while being the designated driver.

he’s really not a big drinker. he does drink and he has drank and like every other person he has stories of getting too drunk and making a fool of himself but it’s definitely not something that he enjoys or wants to do, and it’s usually because he didn’t realize how much he’d been drinking or because he was with people who were drinking and just kinda went along with it. it’s super casual and literally only when he’s out with people ( or if gina shows up with her bottle of strawberry wine she wants to taste test together. ) again, super health conscious so he’s very aware of the kinds of effects that drug use can have on a person ( and he’s been around enough addicts in his line of work to know it first-hand ) so he’s pretty anti-drugs because of that ; i think a part of him definitely advocates for more support centres and stuff to help people who are struggling just because again, saviour complex. i don’t think he’s as opposed to weed and has like, smoked it or whatever at parties and being involved and prefers it to drinking, but for the most part if you see this man out and about he’s sober and he’s there to make sure all the drunk people he cares about get home safe.

once again, surprising to nobody but kal has no game whatsoever, so good luck finding more than like 5 people that he’s slept with ever. the multiple people thing isn’t really his style. he’s lucky enough that he had parents who were in love and was raised by a father who was like, hey, respect women, so he has this kind of dreamy romantic ideal of what love is and he falls fast, hard, and then those feelings last forever ( hi gina. ) one-night stands freak him out because he has no idea how to talk to strangers and then you throw the idea of having sex with strangers in there too and that just sounds like panic and not a fun time, no matter how many times sami has tried to set him up with someone. he can also talk himself into circles ; like he’s not the quiet kind of awkward, he’s the let me say every embarrassing thought that’s come into my head and then just shove my foot in my mouth kind of awkward, and while it’s apparently endearing to some people for someone just looking to fuck and move on that’s probably not the vibe. man dates and only dates.

also, online dating freaks him out. he don’t know these people. the entire thing relies on him being clever and witty and that just. that isn’t going to work.

what hobbies do they have ? what do they spend most of their free time doing ? how did they get involved in those things ?

he’s not really a person who does too much outside of his job, so i don’t really think there are any hobbies that he fosters or kind of does enough to be any good at them, or consider himself that kind of person. most of his days are spent working and sleeping and taking care of himself and the regular adult person things he needs to do, so he doesn’t have a lot of time to spare for doing things he actually enjoys doing.

that being said, there are things that he used to do and he occasionally still picks up if he’s forced to take vacation time or something like that ; he’s a big genre fiction reader and always has been since he was a kid, loved the adventure stories and the spaceships and swords and shit like that ( big nerd. ) he also does have the same artistic genetics that eren has, though he never honed them and isn’t particularly outstanding ; he just is a doodler and sketches little things on the backs of napkins or receipts whenever he’s bored and waiting around for something. art is interesting to him, but i think that’s more of a “it’s been interesting in our family” type beat so he knows a lot about it and has it in common with them and thus it’s near and dear to him.

the thing that he probably does the most though that could be considered hobby-esque is that he does a lot of cooking and enjoys cooking. like even though he’s always tired and there’s a lot going on in his life, he does go out of his way to make good meals because he enjoys the act of cooking because following recipes and things is a very mindless task. that and meal prep and stuff is almost therapeutic for him in the stressful environment he’s kind of constantly in? plus it’s something that he does with other people and often finds that time kind of sacred, like going over to his mom’s every morning and cooking breakfast for her ( and anyone else who’s there ) and he was just raised always helping in the kitchen so. that’s it.

what is their favourite place to be ? where do they spend most of their time if not at home ? why ?

again, kal is not a person who does much outside of his job so definitely the place he spends the most is the hospital. i think even if he’s not working if he has some extra time he’ll go help out wherever needs to be helped out, and that kind of thing. the only other place would be like, his mom’s house, which again as mentioned above he goes and visits her every morning and stuff, and since it’s the same house that they grew up in ( the market is expensive she’s saving it to sell for a lot of money eventually ) it’s got like, a sacred sort of feel to it.

what kind of music do they listen too ? do they listen a lot, or just once and a while ? how do they listen ?

and continuing on the “ kal is a very boring person “ train, i don’t think music is a particularly big part of his life and therefore i don’t know if he would really be able to name artists or songs that he likes. mainly he just kind of listens to what people around him are listening too. if he did put on music or wanted to listen to it or something, i imagine it would mostly be a lot of instrumentals? there’s too much going on inside his own head for him to listen to lyrics, so it would be a lot of jazz type music or like, that kind of instrumental stuff.

can they drive ? do they like driving ? what’s their car like ?

kal can drive and does so all the time because he is a paramedic and he do just be driving the ambulance around the city. despite being such a perpetually stressed out, anxious person, he’s very calm and like, good at navigating the new york city traffic because it’s something that’s come with years of practice and needing to get places in the most efficient manner possible. i think he also used be the one to drive their dad around to all of his appointments inside and outside the state, so it’s always kind of been something he’s done.

he does own a car, though he doesn’t use it much and it mostly just sits parked in his apartment complex. he pretty much only uses it when he needs to take someone somewhere or pick someone up or again, designated driver. its not that he’s against driving or anything he truly just doesn’t get out much and therefore has no where to go. it’s just some basic ass dad car from like 2016, probably, and would not stand out in any kind of capacity.

are they an animal person ? did they have animals growing up ? do they have animals now ?

i can’t believe vee headcanoned him and gina fostering dogs because now i’m going to think about that forever. kal is 100% an animal person, he loves them, he loves all of them, he’s very happy to stop and pet a dog that sniffs him on the street. i don’t really know if his family would have had pets growing up, like maybe him and eren had hamsters or something, but it’s not something i really picture them as having like a Family Pet just because they did move when kal was like, 6 years old and then they were probably a relatively busy family so they just never got one.

that being said i don’t know if kal could handle growing attached to a certain animal and then having it die at this point. his psyche is all fucked up and knowing that one day this animal that he loved and was attached too would eventually die and he would be there for it and it would be relatively soon in the grand scheme of time and the world would definitely kind of freak him out? and so he would never be able to fully commit to having his own pet. plus he doesn’t really have a lot of time to look out for them. but him and gina fostering dogs for a while absolutely makes sense with the saviour complex he has and the heart she has, i could totally see the two of them fostering puppies and looking after them and getting a lot of satisfaction in finding somewhere for them to live and all of that kind of stuff. also, he absolutely would adore milo and get very excited about seeing photos of dutchess that giselle showed him.

what’s their social media presence like ? what platforms do they use ? do they have a lot of followers ? what do they post ?

he’s definitely just a dude when it comes to social media like he’s not particularly active, but he has facebook and instagram and there used to be a lot of photos of gina on there and there aren’t very many photos now that they’re not dating but that kind of thing like. he gets lost to the infinite scroll and he’s sending sami memes at 3am when he has nothing to do but wait for a call. all of his posts are like 6 months apart and they’re usually just from some event or some kind of support for eren or sami or something like that, and otherwise his feed is relatively dead and nobody on there hears from him very much.

his mom definitely is the kind of woman to just post on him and eren’s facebook timeline though. probably posts on gina’s too still like “ miss you : ) “ and kal is like mom you can’t just do that. please unfriend her. please stop. and she’s absolutely posting and tagging them in shit so even though kal is not active on facebook his timeline is just full of his mom posting photos of him and eren and being like my beautiful children :) and family members being like wow! look at them go! because that amuses me a lot.

what’s their job like ? how did they get it ? do they like it ? do they hate it ? why ?

so kal became a paramedic because he already had an undergraduate degree in pre-med, but after their dad got sick, he didn’t think he would have the time or brain power to focus on both his dad and medical school so he dropped out. he still wanted to be doing something in the medical field though because he did have this thing of like, i want to be a good doctor, i want to help people and so paramedic seemed like a good compromise to him? he regrets sometimes never quite putting in the effort to get his doctorate, but he also has a lot of pride in being a first responder because he understands how important his job is.

it’s gruesome though, and it’s very fucking difficult on him, both physically and emotionally. he’s seen a lot of really traumatic shit that people don’t want to have to think about seeing, and part of the reason why he struggles so much with sleep and just relaxing in general is because of the emotional impact that those kinds of things have on him as a person. he hasn’t yet figured out how to separate himself from his job, so he feels a lot of personal responsibility for every call that they answer too and every person who he has to look out for. if something goes wrong, it doesn’t matter the situation and the odds that the patient was possible to save, if they die while he’s on the job or he finds out they died later on it leaves a pretty hefty stain on his soul and he does really struggle with it mentally. he’s good at pushing those feelings aside because he’s really good at putting his own thoughts and feelings on hold when he thinks someone else needs his help more than he needs his own help, but they don’t go away and instead there’s a lot of sadness and difficult feelings that he never approached just kind of sitting inside of him.

i also don’t think kal would be comfortable in a job where he didn’t think he was saving people though, so no matter how hard it is on him and how many nightmares he has because of it, he knows he couldn’t feel comfortable or satisfied doing anything else, and that’s a big reason why he throws himself right in, because then he doesn’t have to think about the bad stuff.

what’s their family like ? is it close ? is it big ? how often do they see each other ?

kal is very lucky in that the sekh family has always been very close. when he was younger they were even the annoying like, “ i can’t hang out tonight it’s family game night “ type family. his parents were both very supportive of him doing whatever it was he wanted to do, though there was definitely some pressure ( especially being the eldest and being their son ) that he wouldn’t waste the brain power he clearly had and he would do something that would be good for the world, rather than something selfish and/or something that was a waste of his talents- hence his original idea to go into medical school. they weren’t like the “ art is stupid and you can’t be a musician “ kind of people though, more just the make sure you’re doing something that betters the world and not just living your life as a mindless drone type people. in some way he was definitely spoiled, but well-loved and not fed everything on a silver spoon so he didn’t end up spoiled.

when his dad got sick it shook up everything they had known, and the support system that his parents had built for him had definitely taken a turn and now kal felt as though he had to be the support system for them to pay them back for all of what they did for him growing up. it did luckily bond them all a lot closer, and kal has never felt any bitterness for feeling like he had to mature quickly to help take care of them while his father was sick, but getting suddenly shown that your parents are not infallible and actually quite vulnerable was a bit of a shock for him. seeing the impact his father’s death had on his mother, and on eren, was definitely a big deal for him ; and part of the reason why he’s never really approached the kind of mental pressure that he deals with is because he feels as though he has to continue to be the “ strong one “ for them and in his father’s absence, be the kind of person that his father would have been for both his sister and his mom. there’s also a big part of him that thought that helping them heal from their pain would somehow help him heal from his ; it didn’t, and he’s still holding onto all that, though he keeps it tucked very down inside and pretends he doesn’t.

eren truly does mean the world to him, as much as he’d love to sew her big ass mouth shut sometimes. a lot of his greviances and the way he’s so annoying to her is there because of love- he’s incredibly overbearing on her sometimes, and often times tries to parent her more than just kind of being a big brother, but it’s because he feels as though he has to look out for her. he definitely drops by with food unannounced and calls to check in on her a lot, and all of that kind of overbearing, annoying big brother shit. fights with her all the fucking time though eren is probably one of the few people that kal will not do a double take on what he’s saying because yeah. fuck you buddy. she’s also the biggest pain in the ass all the time so he doesn’t feel any remorse for bickering with her whatsoever.

what’s their mental state like ? what are their insecurities ? what parts of themselves do they like the most ? how would they describe themselves ?

on the average, day-to-day, kal really is okay. there’s nothing particularly grand about his life and he holds onto a lot of sadness that he’s never quite let go, but it doesn’t cause him a lot of suffering when he’s doing his job or making meals or talking with his family. he’s got a lot of anxiety and paranoia when it comes to people’s health and his own health and is very cautious because of that, but he’s not as mentally disturbed as a lot of my other characters are. he pushes himself to his absolute limits mentally and physically so he doesn’t have to feel a lot of the pain that he would otherwise feel because of everything he’s been through and dealt with, and he would definitely benefit from therapy if he would admit to himself that he doesn’t have to be the kind of person who’s there to support and help and save everyone else ( and it’s okay to ask for help himself sometimes ) but he’s not slowly killing himself so at least theirs that.

he has a lot of difficulty sleeping, and i do think he’s plagued by a lot of nightmares. he spends a lot of time awake and trying to distract himself from his own kind of,,, dark thoughts ( i don’t like that term but idk how else to describe it ), but obviously a lot of it tends to come to the surface when he’s alone and trying to sleep and he can just replay moments he’s fucked up in his brain and think about all the possible bad-ending solutions. he’s exhausted all the time because of that, which i think probably only worsens his anxiety because his brain doesn’t have the will power to like, help him out. his tank is running on empty all the time. overall he’s not having a fantastic time when it comes to that part of his mental health.

there’s a big part of kal that also feels as though he’ll never quite be good enough for anything. he’s constantly trying to prove that he is- a good enough son, a good enough big brother, a good enough paramedic, a good enough boyfriend- but because he’s putting so much effort into doing these things, he often comes up short for a lot of them, being either distant and not giving them enough attention ( gina ) or becoming overbearing and letting it kind of take over his thoughts ( his job, and probably how he’ll be with eren’s sickness. ) he wants so badly to be good and stop anyone he loves from suffering because of how horrible it is, but in doing so he’s just kind of pushing himself too far and coming up short. there’s this big part of him that feels a lot of pressure still to kind of walk where his father was, and he never quite got to understand how his father was human and thus he kind of idolizes him, and so that pressure also slips him up a lot. he wishes he could be a lot more go with the flow like a lot of the people who are in his life and a lot of the people he cares about, but unfortunately that’s really just not possible for him.

#ill tag this later #im not a big fan of it #so i just kinda wanna get it done #been picking at it for days #here u go #sad boy 3 i guess

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wetbloodworm · 1 year

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time for a post about niamh! just some general thoughts about my girl, a bit all over the place

she's turning out much nicer than anticipated when i first planned her out, which i think is partly a fault of mine and struggling to be rude even in roleplay lmao. y’know, like how it’s hard to pick the mean options in video games. i don't mind, though, i think she's interesting and i like that she views the rest of the Bullies/Dolphins as her friends that she cares very much about

she's also a thief that hasn't done any stealing in the campaign so far (despite her absurd sleight of hand), which is one part me being very conscious of Consequences and one part character choice. i think niamh chooses not to steal from those who aren't very well off, and is largely careful about stealing from shops as well. i think she also like... primarily steals for jobs, not just for funsies or on impulse or anything like that? if she's stealing something, it's on purpose and for a reason

when they were at the ruby’s house she was absolutely tempted to take SOMETHING because Rich Person, but that’s an ally.

she was less careful/choosy about her targets early on, for a number of reasons.

she started off stealing because she was felt frustrated and resentful and trapped, and she was lashing out. stealing was an outlet for feeling powerless and betrayed by her family. now that she's left home she feels a little bit more in control of her situation, and she has other things to focus on, and while the stress of being hunted by her hag is there she's generally happier overall, and busier, and needs that outlet less. she doesn’t steal out of spite or because she’s upset now, she steals because she’s good at it

another factor is she grew up a rich kid, and then she only had the money she took before leaving, which went fast. so she had to scramble to take care of herself for the first time, and she cared less about who she stole from.

ALSO as a rich kid, tbh her empathy for the poor and her awareness took time to develop. she didn't look down on people, necessarily, but it didn't quite occur to her how stealing something that seemed small to her could ruin people who don't have much to begin with. niamh had to see how poverty actually affected people, how her actions actually affected people. THEN she only started stealing from those who could afford it. or assholes.

niamh leaving home was one part needing to get away from her family and one part fear of her hag finding her if she stayed still for too long.

her relationship with her parents before the hexblood reveal was... fine. it was alright. they weren’t GREAT parents but they weren’t the worst. they were just kind of there, and sometimes they were bossy, and really the nanny and the cook had more of a positive effect on her emotionally growing up, but they were fine. sometimes they’d give her things, and sometimes they were kind without strings attached. and especially when niamh was young enough to not really know better, they seemed perfectly fine to her! the Reveal was the start of things getting less pleasant. first niamh was upset that her mother kept this from her alongside being upset about not being human very suddenly from her perception, and eventually niamh had to find out on her own about the hag hunting her thing, so she was upset about THAT burden being placed on her against her will. there was tension between her parents, too, since her father hadn’t known about this either, and niamh got the vibe that her parents managed to blame HER for this tension. her relationship with both parents soured, and as niamh got older and examined the situation more and stayed upset she decided this was all real fucked up and hey, fuck her parents actually? fuck her mom for burdening her with the hag situation so she could marry a nobleman, fuck her dad for getting weird when he learned she wasn’t technically his (or only his? how do the genetics work here), fuck them both for acting like this is such an annoyance for THEM that SHE caused by turning blue one day. also generally fuck them for being shitty parents because she was a teenager who could recognize that more and was developing strong opinions about how she should be treated and what she should be able to do.

then, y’know. the hag thing. i imagine she didn’t figure that part out immediately, that she was going to be hunted so that she could also be a hag one day. hexbloods are relatively new to ariknott iirc so that would’ve had to be research that she did on her own trying to find answers to what this meant for her. and that was a horrifying thing to learn, but at first she didn’t. know what to DO about that, y’know? no one really had answers for that. she just was going to be a hag one day. which definitely sent her spiraling for a bit, that feeling that it was inevitable that one day she’d lose all sense of herself and become a monster. she mostly comforted herself by convincing herself that she was safe at home, there were guards and it was Home so it was Safe, and like, no hag had shown up YET, right? so maybe she was special. maybe no one was looking for her. she was never FULLY convinced of that but niamh is good at denial. for a while, anyway, because eventually she became more and more nervous over the idea of being a sitting duck here. like, obviously her home at the estate would be the first place a hag would look, right? the home where the woman who made the deal lived? she’d come here first, right? she’d absolutely come here first. bringing that idea up with her parents didn’t go over too well because as complicated as their relationship had become, niamh was their only heir and they couldn’t just send her away. besides, where would she go? be realistic, niamh.

so yeah, combo “I Hate My Parents I’m Going To Run Away And Become A Thief Out Of Spite” and “If I Stay Here My Hag Will Find Me”

i need a full name for her, both just to have one and because she’s nobility and her Family Name is probably a thing i should figure out

Niamh Clodagh Garrahan

there we go

i don’t know why i’ve just decided to go full irish with her name. i have to get my inspiration somewhere

it’s funny to me that i gave her heroforge figure a rapier thinking she’d be more into that and she’s turned out to be a shortbow kinda girl

thinking about it and if the hexblood thing didn’t happen niamh would’ve still ended up resentful of her parents because of who she is and who they are. it was really just a catalyst

i’ve mentioned this... god, somewhere? probably my dreamwidth dnd PC analysis post and maybe also twitter. anyway niamh is aroace. i think maybe sex/romance-neutral leaning towards repulsed. just not her thing, she doesn’t want anything to do with it, y’all do what makes you happy but leave me out of it pls

sometimes niamh cuts her hair short right before going on a job so she doesn’t have to deal with it being in the way. it’ll all grow back like within a day or something but at least she’s free for that brief period of time.

the ‘eerie token’ thing hexbloods can do... she can remove her teeth and nails ‘harmlessly’, apparently, but does that mean ‘painlessly’? idk, if it’s painless she’s tried before but if not she’ll just stick with making tokens from her hair, thank you

i’m losing steam here, any more niamh thoughts will have to be a separate post

bye friends xoxo

#niamh tag #dnd tag #dnd ariknauts

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vimbry · 2 years

Text

making a post about my own personal experiences as an offshoot from the one I just reblogged because I don’t want to take away from the actual criticism of weaponised incompetence as a form of misogyny, but it did also make me think of something else

as euphoric as the process of figuring out I'm trans definitely has been, there’s parts aside from the more obvious downsides that have made me even less comfortable with myself in certain areas. and that’s really more on ableism above all else. I have adhd, involving a poor short term memory (but do make up for it by rectifying this through different methods). I’m dyspraxic and my fine motor skills are pretty weak. (pretty sure I’m autistic too which, probably also has some impact on my approach to thing as well). I couldn’t even get a handle on tying shoelaces until my teens lmao. and through a combo of overthinking and judgement/discouragement of my abilities in how I was raised, I second guess myself a lot, which means I often feel like I’m reaching out with too many questions in how to do something which may seem pretty obvious, when I feel confident in asking for help at all. in a new experience/place, I’m so self conscious and have such little intution that I often hang back and watch someone else perform an action first, Just to be safe in “am I doing it right”, which sounds so overcautious out loud, but that’s how it is. and I always wonder how that would look on the surface if I presented differently. it’s not as if people are particulary considerate how I am now tbh, but I know there’ll be that added perception of “lazy useless guy” on top of it.

I can’t really follow/visualise written instructions that well compared to say, diagrams or preferably, demonstrations (thank you ever single person on youtube who does this), and tbh tho navigating grocery shopping is not an example of something I’ve ever had a problem with, those tiktok trends of girlfriends giving their boyfriends illustrated shopping lists honestly have me thinking... damn, take away the peter pan-syndrome/learnt helplessness association and I could really appreciate that. like, in the scenario of being sent to an unfamiliar location, here’s what I want here’s what it looks like, that saves so much fuss and stress.

it really didn’t help that I did read a blog entry once about someone’s experiences with their dyspraxic husband, and how she “knew really he couldn’t help it, but he frustrates me sometimes because it seems to simple to me, I felt like he wasn’t trying hard enough”. and all of the comments were just like, “this sounds so hard for you I’m sorry!” and it’s like. man, I just feel like a huge burden on everyone. it really stuck with me, more so in how absolutely none of the responses cared about the person living with the condition and focused more on how their poor partner was a martyr for living with them. thing is it’s not like, Inherently bad to vent about this. some frustration is inevitable when entering a relationship, it’s a two-way street that people will always have to make compromises in. and I know rationally that’s just one person and their readers’ somewhat uncompassionate and ignorant opinions, but that doesn’t rule out the chance of someone treating/thinking of me the same way.

I mean it’s far from a current worry regardless, because I am absolutely nowhere near the position to do anything about myself re: gender right now haha, but I do think about it. the “males are so useless, have to do everything for them haha!” mindset is garbage bioessentialism that excuses poor behaviour and does nothing but hurt multiple types of people in different ways. it’s cruel to women who deserve better but are groomed to believe a relationship is essentially signing up for motherhood to a grown man, and it’s cruel to anyone who legitimately struggles and isn’t infantilising themselves and utilising supposed weakness for their own gain.

#don't reblog

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familyvideostevie · 8 months

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hello! don’t know why but i felt the need to bare my feelings to you tonight. you don’t have to respond to this or anything but this has been simmering in my brain for far too long now.

here it goes!!! i miss you. it’s that simple really. you are one of the first few people in this app that i struck up a friendship with. you are humble and so very nice and i love talking to you and checking up on you even if it was once a month. talking to you always, always brightened my day. honestly don’t know where it went wrong. at one point, i realized that you weren’t following me anymore. i didn’t really care because you said in an ask that tumblr was glitching and would make you unfollow blogs even if that wasn’t your intention. i believed that! we still continued to talk, but i noticed that you never followed me again and that your replies weren’t as enthusiastic. i know that you are busy with your own life so i chalked it up to that (i’m busy with mine too), but when you would speak to other people, it just felt different. so i started thinking i did something wrong, but i seriously don’t know what. i wish i had the courage to get off of anon and talk to you about this but then again it’s probably nothing to you and i’m definitely overreacting and overthinking. i don’t know. we’re probably too old for this but i treasure my friendships so much that drifting apart with anyone is as painful as a break up. even if we only know each other through the internet.

if it’s something i did, i’m sorry. if i am overthinking, i’m sorry too because i had to make you read through this entire thing. i just really wanted to get this off of my chest. i also wrote this at 3 am so forgive me. that’s it i think! i wish you all the best and i’ll keep on supporting you!

wow! hello! i'm going to put this reply under the cut because it's long (like, longer than many fics i write). you are under no obligation to read this! but as you've shared your feelings with me i thought i'd do the same.

i will be really honest with you, since you have been honest with me: this stressed me out a lot. reading it was like feeling my heart sink deeper and deeper in my chest with every word. i have been on the internet for a long time but it was not until i started this blog last year that i really began to interact with people in a meaningful way. i've been in and out of fandom spaces and never really clicked with anyone, never been brave enough to chat or share myself the way i have here with the fics i write and the conversations i have on the dash and through dms. this entire time i've been very conscious of how i behave -- or at least i've tried to be -- and that includes not starting/being a part of drama, apologizing when i think i've messed up, and setting my own/abiding by other people's boundaries.

so, all that to say, the feelings that you've expressed here are my worst nightmare. i don't think i'm going to apologize, since i don't think i've done anything wrong, but i will explain myself and the way i use tumblr/think about internet friendships.

first of all, this is not my main blog! it's entirely possible that i do follow you but it's a different url (which i am happy to tell people if they ask me for it privately), so you might not realize.

second of all, i've been on tumblr since 2011 (rough estimate). over a decade later i only follow 110 blogs. that fluctuates! when i'm really into something i will follow accounts that post about that thing, and then sometimes when i'm less into that thing, i unfollow them. when a blog hasn't posted for ~6 months, i unfollow them to keep things tidy (a method of control that has no reason, just my brain being my brain!). when a blog i've followed for years starts posting about something i dont like or care about all that much and know i won't get into/expresses an opinion i maybe don't like/says something i dont vibe with, i might unfollow them! sometimes i block tags but i prefer my dash to be clean and full of stuff i do want to see so often i just unfollow. tumblr, to me, is a place i come to get out of my own head and to distract from reality a little bit and always has been long before i started writing on here. so i am very liberal with the unfollow button and 99.9% of the time it's not personal.

expanding on that. re: unfollowing you. i have never been a part of mutual culture until this blog. i didn't really get it at first but then it became a useful tool for getting my work seen and for supporting the work of others. but as i got bigger (a relative term here, i do not consider my blog to be big), i started to see how mutuals can be kind of a cliquey thing socially and also instill a sense of obligation to people, so i've tried to steer away from that language and stopped attributing following/not following someone as an approval or as a sort of key in the door of online friendship. i want anyone who wants to talk to me to feel like they can! but at the same time i don't follow everyone i speak to and it's not personal. i do not expect anything from the people who follow me in terms of reblogs or likes or anything, even the ones i talk to often, because i think we are all here for ourselves and for our own enjoyment and i don't want to take away from that (in addition, i have barely been reading fics, even those written by dear friends and blogs i adore, so my attention/engagement is low as a default).

but it seems that maybe i have done so for you anyway. so, coming clean. a few months ago i unfollowed a bunch of blogs. some of them were mutuals! mutuals i've spoken to, mutuals whose work i've enjoyed, all that jazz (though i have accidentally unfollowed people before -- that happened today, actually, with a friend!) it is possible you were one of those people. my reasons are mostly related to what i've already said -- some people post a lot of asks, which i dont love scrolling through, some people start writing content i don't care for, etc. oftentimes the content of theirs that i do want to see ends up on my dash anyway, which is great for me (and fairly often i'll pop onto those blogs myself and see what they've been up to using my best friend, the search bar)! so, if this is you, that's that. i unfollowed you and it's not personal and it does not mean we cannot still talk or be friendly or even friends, but i understand if it means that for you.

i realize that not everyone places the same limited weight on folllows as i do and that an unfollow hurts. in that case i urge you to talk to me about it. this happened to me in real life. on my personal instagram account i unfollow people all the time because if they don't post a lot or i don't talk to them often i don't see a need to see what's up with their lives. one time i unfollowed someone i went to college with and it upset him! he asked a mutual friend of ours to ask me why i did it. i said, oh! i didn't realize it was a big deal, i had no malicious intent behind it, i'm happy to follow him again if it means that much. so i did! i'd have preferred he came to me, obviously, but no harm done in the end. i wish this is what you had done.

but i digress. i would like to call out this part of your message:

i know that you are busy with your own life so i chalked it up to that (i’m busy with mine too), but when you would speak to other people, it just felt different. so i started thinking i did something wrong, but i seriously don’t know what. i wish i had the courage to get off of anon and talk to you about this but then again it’s probably nothing to you and i’m definitely overreacting and overthinking.

you are right that i am busy! and the way you say you're feeling is a way i've felt before, for sure. but people cannot know what you're feeling unless you tell them. i am hurt that you think i don't care and that this is nothing. yes, we are all strangers online but i really hope that i haven't given the impression that i don't care about people's feelings and how my actions affect them because that's not true at all. internet friendships are hard! the lines are blurry and i will be the first to admit that. but i really implore you to talk to people about how you are feeling because that's how you maintain friendships and show respect for the people in your life -- open and honest communication. it only benefits everyone, even if things don't work out. i like to think that we can do things that are hard or scary for the sake of the people we care about.

a friend, when i asked about how to reply to this message, told me that sometimes friendships do just drift. people change and priorities change and that's okay, it's part of life. i know it's hard and it doesn't get easier but it's also life. but personally, you sending this on anon does not signal to me that you want to repair this, as it doesn't actually solve anything. and that makes me sad.

anyway! i think that's quite enough. feel free to come speak to me, i really really welcome it. if you've read this far you might think that i'm overreacting, or if you're reading this and it's not about you, you might think that, too! i tried to cover everything i could think of but im a little flustered and not sure any of this makes sense.

you guys, i really only want my blog to be somewhere where you feel like you can be yourselves and be honest and hopefully also respectful. there's been a lot of weird shit going on and i have luckily been treated very well on here by all of you and i am grateful for that.

to everyone else, i love you, thank you for always being kind to me.

#anon ask #emma's asks

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kuriboo · 1 year

Text

I shouldn’t feel this way. I don’t want to feel this way. I can’t stop feeling this way.

You know, I’m supposed to be, happy, that the people I care about have friends, other friends, good friends that care about them.

Not…this. Not the envy and sadness and anger. Not the fears of being left out and being replaced.

It’s nothing new. I’ve felt feelings like this for a long time. Different people, same feelings. It’s a horrible cycle. I care about people and I’m so glad we’re friends and I just get so…absorbed in that that when they reasonably have other friends and do things with other friends, my brain just…explodes. Why can’t I be like them, I’m not good enough to have friends, this other person is just going to replace me, and it goes on.

Has it ever gotten this bad? Well…. I just lost my job, and before I knew I was losing my job, it was the really busy season. And it’s not the first time I’ve lost my job, but last time I wasn’t living at home, which amplifies all these negative emotions and makes them worse. There’s also a lot of personal family related stress that I’m not going into here.

I don’t remember making any sort of conscious decision, you know. Things just…escalated and I lost it.

Still kind of losing it. I don’t really feel any better than I did a week ago.

What’s the endgame here? I’m not sure that there is an endgame. I’ve had these feelings for a long time. Eventually it usually kind of fades until it pops back up, different people sometimes, same hat regardless. In this case it’s really not stopping. I don’t know how to make it stop.

Admit what’s going on and talk about it, maybe? Ha. I’m too much of a coward for that. Sorry. That’s probably the healthiest option. But if I was able to walk up to someone and go “hey i feel like i’m being stabbed in the chest constantly because you have friends that aren’t me”, we wouldn’t be here. I don’t want to hurt or manipulate anyone with this. My burden to take on and all that.

It’s just…a pretty constant thing, and at some point I guess I decided one way or another I was going to stop feeling this way. Rehardwire my brain however I needed to to get rid of these toxic feelings. Guess I got sick of…feeling all this and pretending I didn’t.

Didn’t really…work. I tried to rehardwire my brain, made myself more miserable in the process, and I still felt all that on top of it. Guess I’m just doomed to it, ha.

There’s no real conclusion to this. I still feel this way. It’s probably not going to stop anytime soon. It’s fine. My brain’s probably not going to be happy I said this much on a tumblr post no one’s going to read. I’ll deal with that on my own. Like I said. Don’t wanna hurt or manipulate anyone over this. My problem to deal with. I’m fine with that.

Not sure trying to rewrite the way I think is just gonna magically go away just like that just because I said so. So…waves my hands. You know. Ignore whatever might pop up. I don’t know that anything will, but I’m not gonna sit here and make empty promises that it won’t. I know I’m hiding a lot from everyone I talk to, but I’m not gonna lie about that.

I don’t know how to…finish this off. Feels like it needs some kind of proper conclusion but there isn’t one, so I don’t know what to say. I’ll try to clean up my own mess? It’s not worth worrying about? Something like that, anyway. As long as these feelings don’t impact anyone else, as long as no one needs to know about them… I’m willing to take it on myself, so it’s fine, really.

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love-and-bubbles · 2 years

Note

I apologise if it seemed that I was demanding a response, I was just overthinking it because I wasn’t sure if I sent it to you or that I thought I did and I didn’t. Happens too many times.

It’s amazing how bodies are so different. Like you I can justgo wild with eating without having to worry because my size never changed. I never increase in size if I stuff myself with so much carbs like someone would do that they have to go crazy in the gym to get back in shape. Which I am thankful for, because I do not have the time and patience to do so. I think the older we get, our choices just becomes healthier, more conscious and responsible. I agree with the restrictions, in our house, there is always that abundance of food or that so much freedom, never restricted even if we barely had anything before. It’s a belief and upbringing i’ve got that food should never be restricted to anyone and should be given freely if we are in our house. It’s like, I can say no to everything but not food. Like you know what I mean?

The place where I am offers a lot of cheap restaurants with amazing quality food, I am not sure in your continent though because it’s Europe. I don’t know if it’s just me but if it’s something along the lines of Europe, it automatically means not cheap. lol. They’re definitely not very practical, I tell you. That’s where I have spent so much of my money. How was the sushi? I do not like sushi at all. I can never get its hype. Have you been to asia? we need to build that tolerance you’ve got. haha

Yeah, culture is just so interesting. It’s fascinating to think that nobody is just one thing from just one culture, we are all a bit of everything and we carry that through places we go and we share that to people we meet along the way. It’s a beautiful journey. I agree with the last part, wherever you go, they’re always one that makes you feel hmm, ya i like that, that feeling is mine now.

I could only wish to visit that places you’ve mention. You have seen so much of the world already, it’s intimidating to think about. Those places are absolutely a dream to see, it would be so different to the ones I have seen so far and it’s not that many. I guess though, it’s the perks of being on the same continent and a bit of UK and all that. You get to visit them very easily. If I were in europe, nobody would see me in one place for long, i’d always hop onto the next train and soak everything up like a sponge. It’s the opposite for me, I love the mountains though you’d never see me climbing on one. I am not too into the beaches as one of my houses is in front of the beach someone tropical so i’ve had enough of it. I have read TTS a long time ago. Such beautiful scenery, it makes me want to live like that too. Away from people and everything else that causes stress. I think in Harry’s words “don’t knock it ‘till you try it” basically what my dad said to me, try first before saying no. It would be amazing, no? To just see the other side.

I think there’s so much of europe as it is a continent on its own therefore it’s packed of everything it’s so hard to choose. You need to write and channel them. I could only wish I am as wordy as you and channel them into writing fictions too.

I am not a celebrity. god forbid. Nor am I famous in tumblr or one of those big accounts. My existence is a little quiet but maybe you’ve come across my blog somewhere sometime but never improtant, my account is basically just a place of my own soap opera and a pile of stress. lol

I agree about everything about fanfictions. There’s an endless supply and endless ways to write pining. And an endless amount of frustrations, happiness , and everything a roller coaster of emotions in fanfictions. It’s amazing, I am so glad there is this community built for the fans, by the fans. I have slowed down with smut now, I just want to read my own works without reading about the same two people having at it. Though, I wrote one recently with smut where I tried writing it as elegantly as I could. lol anyways.

It’s okay!! I have been busy too. And I still am, I haven’t been having the best year really, and the more we get to the end, just the worsts it gets. I just want to be a hermit and forget about everyone and everything else. Preferably live someone on those mountains in scotland where it’s so remote and away from people. I would just cut off social media and any connection and live life like that. That’s how it feels every day and the older I get, the more tempting it has become.

Can this just be your gift already? Just kidding. I actually had a different plan about my gift to you because I signed up on a whim where I was high spirited and when it finally comes down to writing, I was like shit, what have I gotten myself into. But all is well. I’ll make sure you’ll recieved it and feel the love. I already have the dates. hehe

Tell me more about yourself. xx

OMG I nearly deleted this ask accidentally. So I guess it's fair to say that we both are going a little crazy. And please don't apologize. No need to at all. It was actually a good reminder.

I get you when it comes to eating and restricting. Growing up quite poor food was not always a given in my family. Like we would make dandelion salad from literal dandelion leaves we picked ourselves. So sweets and treats were always really special. But on the up side it also helped me being okay with not always having and getting everything I wanted right way. And appreciating the little things (especially cake... I can never say no to cake). I have been a vegetarian since I am 14 and it never felt restrictive. I was quite strict but every few years, especially when travelling, I would eat some local speciality or something that I just wanted to experience. So if I really want to I will always do it. But then when starting university I became quite obsessed. I fell down the raw vegan rabbit hole quite badly. It got quite compulsive and at one point I realized I wasn't enjoying food anymore, and it had always been one of my favourite things. So I reflected a lot and slowly got myself back on track, being kinder to myself and living a little. And over the years I got to where I am now. I am still a vegan (I have watched too many documentaries to ever change that again) but I am also extremely creative in the kitchen and my food is always colourful, always fun, and always plenty. In fancy Europe (I mean it is expensive but we earn money that makes it affordable, less so in eastern Europe, in Hungary for example poverty rates are insane, I think politically every country in Europe still can improve a lot on, as we can all) we are blessed with an abundance of good vegan food alternatives and loads of fresh produce. I made an insanely cheesy vegan pasta bake the other day and it was not like weird tasting fake cheese taste but sooooo good. Sushi I am like Louis in that interview about tattoos with the red and green paddle. I used to be very much *red side* then I slowly turned to *green side* and now I absolutely love it *covers his hole body in tattoos*. I haven't been to Asia but I love Asian cuisine, the different cultures and the variety of the places. I had many flatmates from different Asian countries so I had my fair share of whatever they'd cook like home made kimchi (ok I nearly died eating that sooooo spicy). So yeah Asia is high on my to go list. Especially all island nations.

Reading your words is like sooooo beautiful. The way you talk about cultures and travelling and yes, that sounds about right. And your dad seems like a wise man. Please don't be intimidated because I have lived my life the way I have. I certainly haven't had your experiences. I didn't even go out there all the time like I wanna go and see all these places. Sometimes it just happens to me. And many people have stopped asking me about my life, for some of my family members it's because it's too wild for them to imagine, other's just wave me off because they can not compete with me when they tell me about their holiday. But it's not a competition. I have the highest admiration for my brother who found that small town and decided to settle down there and never leave. He rather builds a strong community around him than travel and that is amazing, something I might not have the persistence for. I love humans and their experiences and I want to hear everyone's stories on all the things all the time.

Scottish mountains are beautiful. And if you ever go there, there is a special place I could recommend. It feels like out of a fanfic. I mean the entirety of the Scottish countryside feels like out of a fanfic. Which is one of the things I love and value most about Europe, the history. The old castles and buildings of all the ages. When I lived abroad I was strangely missing it. When there are no 'old' train stations or mystical villages. Tropical Island sounds amazing though. Even if I would probably die in the heat in a second. And then it's not just the sea, it's the ocean. I miss the ocean and everything that lives in it.

As soon as I am allowed to know you stranger, I need to read that elegant smut of yours. I love that! After all we are serious writers. And I also love how we can see how we grow with our writing. How interests and priorities shift and perspectives broaden.

That 'I want to escape the world feeling' yeah I know that one. I just want to hide in my blanket all day and ignore that the world continues. I am sad to hear that your year has been a struggle. That's why fanfics and fandom drama sometimes are such a great escape. Everything a bit easier there. I believe the world would be a better place if we all slowed down a little. A little more 'let's watch this tomato plant grow every day' and less off 'you should really have done this by now'. When I was living like that I was my most at peace really, but also a little lonely at times. I hope that there are also beautiful things coming your way! Now I feel bad, because I had a great year, I got to see Harry and Louis. European privilege again. Did you get to see any of the boys? But I have to say I watched some Louis live streams from around the world curled up in my bed in the middle of the night, those are some of my favourite memories. That and me listening to the Harry's House leak lying in the sun in the botanical gardens every day after uni. It felt like a special gift from Harry. What are your favourite memories of this year so far? As I said I loooove hearing people's stories. Small windows into their lives.

I can't wait for the love! Hahahaha nah, this is already more than I feel like I should get out of nowhere like this. The way you write is so kind and just makes me happy reading it.

"Tell me more about yourself." - Why would you ask me this? I am both flattered and scared. But mostly excited. No body would ever just ask this. This might be the kindest thing anyone has ever said. Hahahaha oh well... if that doesn't say it all. But honestly such a nice way of interacting with people. You are quite amazing at conversation. Thank you for this and please also tell me more about yourself. Maybe something you just want to tell people or something you would like me to know?

Do you like vinyl? Because I think I am addicted.

Do you watch stupid (or less stupid) shows?

Or documentaries?

Like books?

Sports?

Animals?

Colours? And when yes where?

Art? What is your favourite way to express yourself?

Sunrise or sunset?

Past or future?

Who are you and who do you want to be?

#questions questions questions #hugging strangers #like a warm day at the beach #with a book

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space-and-flannels · 2 years

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As a kid, I never understood why my parents would get mad at me for over eating and constantly told me to only eat when I was hungry. I always felt hungry. Then I started to get self conscious about my body but I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Then I got older and was able to look at things. I was almost constantly surrounded by people who were better looking and skinnier than me. Throughout all of middle school and high school, I only gained weight due to growing. I never lost weight or became skinnier. I played volleyball for five years, soccer for two, track for one, basketball for two, and did musical theatre for three. My body image issues had gotten worse cause I never felt athletic enough. I was the same. I still had a fat stomach. Then I stopped playing volleyball due to building stress. I started to be told I needed to find a physical activity and work out so I wouldn’t get fat. I was constantly sucking my stomach in for years, I still do. Bagging shirts made me feel the most comfortable cause everything else was too showy.

Then I entered college. I was determined not to gain the freshman 15 because I knew if I did, I would be super disappointed in myself and I knew my parents would yell at me for my eating habits. I never noticed anything was wrong with my body. Then suddenly, I went to 125 lbs to 136 lbs in five months. I felt awful. I started crying. My shorts weren’t fitting. My appetite was constantly fluctuating but was always on the higher end. Then it dropped. I purposefully wore tighter waisted jeans to Thanksgiving Dinner and I had to change after one and a half plates because I felt like shit. I started hyper fixating. Second semester, my appetite was still low. Three times throughout my first year of college, I started to force myself to eat less. I didn’t need the food, I had enough fat. I didn’t need to spend unnecessary money. I’m pretty sure I stopped eating breakfast at some point and stuck with lunch and dinner. I even felt guilty about that.

I stopped eating when I wasn’t hungry. I would go maybe four-five hours without being hungry. I was doing good. Following what I had been told to do my whole life.

I wasn’t doing good. I believe I cried or… well… stopped myself from crying because I hate explaining why I’m crying - because I didn’t know what to eat. It felt like I was constantly limited. When I couldn’t find out how to get around it, I would feel incredibly guilty for eating something unhealthy. For about a week, I pretty much was only eating a snack and dinner. Trying to avoid carbs and excess sugars. A week went by and by Sunday, I was hardly hungry. I had munched on the lettuce, ham, and cheese within the sandwich. All day that’s the only thing I had. I made the mistake of taking a hot shower. I felt light headed and dizzy. I walked back to my room to grab a snack. All I remember was resting my hands on my roommate’s bed to wait out the dizzy spell when all the sudden I was laying on the floor. After that, my roommate forced me to eat three meals a day. I hated it. I was almost never hungry and I felt like I shouldn’t be eating but I had to eat so I wouldn’t inconvenience my roommate.

Since then, I’ve been told completely different things. My mom started noticing when I was hardly eating because I wasn’t hungry and she started telling me I needed to eat SOMETHING because that’s better than nothing. The same person who was previously telling me to only eat when hungry.

It’s… it’s just all so confusing and I hate this.Especially when you’re 133 lbs now and two doctors have said that your weight is fine but then you look at yourself in a mirror or in pictures and you hate everything. Your arms are too fat. You aren’t sucking in your stomach enough. Your thighs are too fat. You don’t like your face shape.

#eating issues #food issues #only eat when hungry #mental issues lmao #college life les go #whats this healthy relationship with food?#body image #body image issues

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