because i have to get out of bed

7

“Wait for me.”

The Doctor slipping these three words into Bill’s subconscious when thinking she’s still alive to hear them was, to me, an equivalent to three other words he used a lot with Clara: “Duty of care.” He said he couldn’t promise keeping her from getting killed, but like all companions, he does try to restore damage that seems reversible.

These scenes were both haunting and comforting with the latter only due to the fact that it was the Doctor calling out to her. For the record, I have a huge fear of a figure standing over one’s bed, but because it was the Doctor, I was fine in that scene. It was Mr. Razor who made me jolt instead, and for good reason when it was revealed who he was later on! XD

Sam W. & Ice cream

This was requested by @the-masked-bibliophile! I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 232

Warnings: none

(gif is not mine)

The summer heat was almost overwhelming.  You thought that the motel’s air conditioning would serve some kind of comfort, but it didn’t.  It was too hot and muggy to be comfortable.  All three of you were sweaty and laid out on beds.

“I can’t take this heat anymore,” you whined, wiping sweat away from your forehead.  “Why did we come here for a case?”

“Are you suggesting we should have let that witch kill innocent people?”  Dean rolled his head to look at you.  “Because if you are-.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you snapped back at the Elder Winchester.

“Enough,” Sam cut in, sitting up in bed.  “Babe, get up.  We’re gonna go for a walk.”

“You’re kidding right,” you mumbled, running your hand through your damp hair.

“Nope.”  Sam got out of bed, coming around to your side of the bed and pulling you up.  “I’ve got an idea that you’re going to like [Y/N].”

“You better be taking me to the Arctic Sam Winchester,” you grumbled as you followed him out of the door.

After a grueling fifteen minute walk, you ended up at an ice cream shoppe.  The ice cream not only tasted sweet, but it also helped cool you down.  Even if it was just a little bit, you felt better.  You felt lucky to have such a sweet and caring boyfriend like Sam.


Tag List: @xsvanjasx, @jpadjackles , @the-latina-trickster, @holding-on-to-francis, @lizbeth-loves-bobear, @maybe-mikala, @silverwingedfox, @starlight-showers6380, @mija-novella, @trashforwinchesters, @emilyymichelle, @ivvitm1109, @girl-next-door-writes, @flufy07, @gabriels-trix, @captain-amelia-bradley, @21-wolves, @rayleyanns, @myplaceofthingsilove, @mycuddlycorner, @mogaruke , @cyrilconnelly, @deathtonormalcy56, @legitgirl15, @alonewriterly, @sumara62, @nanie5, @supernatural-squadd, @pumpkinpiesandpocketknives, @shititskatelyn, @kakdhaoan919, @ladysigyn221, @dekahg, @aliensarestupid, @jc1101, @heycassbutt-67, @mikimausiii, @mactho, @xxxdevine-demonsxxx, @isthatcanada, @notnaturalanahi, @sonofabitch-spn, @wolfyangel-is-a-pluviophile, @castielangelinatrenchcoat, @psycopathic-turtle, @1-more-internet-kid, @tokentransboy

anonymous asked:

Hi Zoe, I wanted to thank you since a long time now. Thank you so much for helping me. This year was terrible for me. I had a lot of anxiety and stress, I made many break downs, I did a school phobia (no idea if you say it in english sorry), I couldn't go to school because it was too hard for me to get out of my bed. I was petrified to go to school, and this year was so rough for me. But you really helped me. Your drawings, sympathy and honesty helped me so much to see things brighter. Thanks ❤️

I have anxiety too, a lot actually. I think even as old as I’m, I haven’t done anything that’s actually worth it. Like yeah I have some achievement but compared to my friends I sure as hell am a 0. But it’s because I’m a 0 I have nothing to lose and that means I can be anything. I just think no matter what I do, I will still anxious anyway so better do something. 
Don’t worry darling, you’re ok.

Originally posted by giflounge

anonymous asked:

You mean harry as a dad. Tbh I don't know why but I often imagine harry as a single dad. He would just do the most for his baby and be the best father in existence. Harry's child would be so lucky tbh and I think he'll have a child til he wants to settle down and achieve all the things he wants in life.

also an anon sent in: Single dad!harry 😍😍😍

ok so i feel the mother would leave out of disinterest as soon as she’d have the baby, because she wanted to put it up for adoption since it was v unplanned but harry……as soon as he sees those tiny peepers and feels the little fingers f his baby grasp his thumb, he’s fallen for his gorgeous babe

he’d take full custody, and settle his bun into the house now shared between him and the little sleepy baby who sleeps in the same double bed as harry while  each get accustomed to having each other in their lives and hearts. harry would do every feed, and fact become an expert at making up milk bottles and clutching a tiny wailing baby in his arms simultaneously; he’d watch them gurgle and guzzle an entire 2 ounces of milk before feeling sleepy again and fall asleep in his daddy’s arms.

single dad harry means that baby grows up with a daddy who is his number one fan. they take little trips together in the car, music playing softly while harry drives, and baby chews the new book daddy got them for getting their injections done, and soon enough, tiny baby teeth come through, big bunny teeth that make harry laugh along with baby when they smile and giggle, revealing their two shiny pearly whites.

harry is there for every cry, every giggle and smile, every nightmare, every dirty nappy, every family party with his baby cuddled into him before wobbling off to join their cousins. harry doesn’t know how his mother could’ve left such a bundle of giggles and love. baby looks just like their daddy though, and he is very proud of that. green eyes, dimples, dark curls and all. right down to the softest facial features that separate baby from their dad’s more matured look.

baby loves daddy’s hugs, his sunday morning pancakes, and his extra soft shirts to cuddle into as baby would start to drink a bottle of milk independently, and would then start to speak; their first word is “love” and the second is “dada”. 

it’s only when those words are put together that harry knows that he is his baby’s world, just like his little bun is his entire universe. it’s just the two of them and for now that’s all they need.

anonymous asked:

Ship that pisses you off:💣 and Ship that makes you sad:💔

Ships that involve a minor with an adult piss me off. 

Fans of a ship - any ship, even mine - who harass others for liking something different also piss me off. 

But as far as actual ships, there aren’t any I can think of between two consenting adults that I would go so far as to say they piss me off. I’m internet old and come from the days of “don’t like don’t read” - my philosophy as always been that, just because a ship doesn’t appeal to me personally, doesn’t mean it’s not important to someone else. 

I don’t know what gets someone else out of bed in the mornings. I’ve certainly had days where escaping to my otp was the only good thought I had the ability to cling to - and I’m sure there are plenty of people who are uncomfortable with my ship for their own various reasons.

I do have one ship blacklisted, and since it’s the “controversial” ask I’ll name it, even though it’s pretty popular.. Dorian and Bull makes me incredibly uncomfortable, so I prefer not to see it - but, that being said, I’m not going to judge or harass the people who love it because of my personal preference, and if it shows up untagged on my dash, I just scroll past it and go on with my day. For someone out there, it means as much to them as fenhawke does to me. 

The ships that makes me the saddest are Karl/Anders, because there are so many bittersweet, tragic things you can do with that, and also anything involving Alistair, because every time I try to romance him I just come with worse and worse endings. Really, both Alistair and Anders I have trouble finding a happy ending for.

2

i have been alive for 360 days after trying to take my own life. i sit here in this airport a year later, passport in hand, with a full backpack but an even fuller heart. in 3 hours i will be on a plane to a country ive never been to. today ive taken 2 trains, 6 subways, and countless steps in the right direction. don’t get me wrong ive tripped and fallen in the last year(literally) but i have gotten up every time. the world has continued to throw punches at me and a few of them stung but nonetheless they healed in time and i got right back in the ring. this world may be throwing punches but I’m throwing them back now. i have been given every reason to give up, but i am here, i am standing, and i am breathing. I AM HERE. and that is worth something. so heres to being resilient, heres to being a fighter, and heres to a year of crazy, a year of having my medication changed so many times i lost count, to countless therapy sessions, late night drives, tears, bruises, to the days i couldn’t get out bed, shower, or even go to class, but heres to scoring the game winning goal, hitting a new PR in the gym, and laughing til i cried, heres to jumping out of bed today, heres to being alive after being given every reason not to be. and heres to the ticket ill be holding a year from now, to somewhere new, because i will be here. i will be alive.

“Prom was invented just to make girls starve so they can fit in a dress and compete over a stupid title.”

“Uh –” Derek blinks, eyes his sister dubiously, “I’m not a girl?”

Cora huffs. “Whatever.”

In the kitchen Laura bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry.” She yells. “Cora is just jealous she will have to wait five years to go to her own prom.”

“I’m not going!” Cora yells back. “Prom is stupid, I don’t even know why you’re going,” she tells Derek, “it’s not like you know how to have fun.”

Derek raises an eyebrow while Laura just laughs harder. “Oh my god.” Their older sister says. “I stay away for six months and Cora turns into a sassy queen.” She walks into the living room, pretends to wipe at her eyes. “I’m so proud.”

“You two are ridiculous.” Derek says, turning around. “And I’m just going because Erica promised to pay me. With ice cream.” Then he gives Cora a wicked smile. “That I’m not going to share with either of you.”

“You are the worst brother!” Cora yells as he begins to climb the stairs. “And I hope you fall on your ass while trying to dance!”

“Can’t hear you!” Derek’s cell begins to ring. “Too busy getting ready to prom!”

Laura lets out a high-pitched laughter. “I love you two so much.”

Derek shakes his head fondly, closes his bedroom door behind himself just as Cora tells Laura to shut up. “Hey.” He answers the phone, collapsing on his bed. “What’s up?”

“Yo,” Stiles answers, “whatcha doing?”

“Listening to my sisters fight.” He says, snorting when he hears his dad start complaining about all the yelling and ‘no, Cora, I’m not letting you go to prom, you’re thirteen!’. “I’m gonna have to check the trunk of my car tomorrow night.”

Stiles laughs. “She’s not that good.”

“If you keep teaching her, she will be.” Derek blurts out, curses himself mentally when he realizes it came out harsher than he intended.

It’s just – sometimes he can’t help it. He’s known Stiles since they were four, Cora wasn’t even born then, but one day she turned eleven and Stiles became her new favorite person. Stiles couldn’t find it funnier and took Cora as his little apprentice. He even taught her how to cheat on Mario Kart.

He’s never taught Derek that.

Derek rolls his eyes, thinks about his little sister still downstairs pouting and trying to convince their dad that she’s old enough to go out. He shouldn’t be jealous of her, but the thing is – he grew up with two sisters, he knows how to share toys and food, but he doesn’t know how to share Stiles.

Because Stiles is his.

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The white road

I am 24 when my doctor tells me that I was abused. She doesn’t tell me what happened to me, or plant any memories that weren’t already there. She takes what I have told her and she puts it all inside those six letters, that one word.

Before she takes my memories and gives me that word, I tell her that I have made the appointment because I want to know why I can’t stand being touched. I tell her that I’m 24 and I’m sick of flinching when shop assistants hand me my change, just in case their fingers brush against my palm and there is that fire again, the one that rushes up from my bone to the membrane of my skin any time it comes into contact that I wasn’t expecting. I tell her that I have been trying to do this properly, from dating to everything else, and it’s like I’m blocked. It’s like I’m missing a piece of myself that makes me an adult, or perhaps even a human, and I don’t know where it’s gone.

Read more (mobile)

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i wish i could do things right and i wish i had motivation to get up

How dan and Phil probably broke up #62
  • Phil: You've been bad and bad boys get punished
  • Phil: *ties Dan to the bed*
  • Dan: Ooo are we gonna have kinky se-
  • Phil: *plays hello internet on loop*
BTS  - you have a really sensitive neck.

Request: Hiya! Could I please get a bts reaction to you having a really sensitive neck and get really turned on when they kiss or bite it???


Seokjin: You were just sitting on the couch watching a movie, chilling together. But he had the bad idea of kissing your neck. “Don’t do it!” You warned. “Why?” He asked confused. “Just don’t.” “There must be a reason, Jagi…” He smiled and gave you another kiss on the neck, giving you goose bumps. “Oh I get it.” He said and smirked at you before kissing your lips.

Originally posted by rapdaegu

Yoongi: You were with him in the studio, waiting for him to finish some things. You were bored and sat on his lap. “Hey…” You said smiling. “Hello.” He said without looking at you. “Can we go home?” “Why? do you want to do something?” He smirked. “No!” You laughed. He approached at your neck and give a bite. “I didn’t want to, now i do. Let’s go home now.” “You know, you get turned on so easy.” “Shut up!”

Originally posted by leojuseyo

Hoseok: “Let me go!” You screamed, laughing. “Never!” He said laughing even more. He stucked you to the wall and put your legs around his waist. He kissed you on the lips, then his mouth went to your neck, giving a bite, making you moan. “Hm, do you like this?” He asked with a smile. “You know I like it, baby, go on.” He laughed. 

Originally posted by notjhope

Namjoon: He knows how you feel when he kisses your neck and he loves to tease you. You were sitting on his lap and he was running his lips lightly all over your neck, making you moan. “If you won’t do anything, stop!” You whined. “What do you want me to do?” He smiled. “I want you to stop.” “Do you really want?” He stopped. “No, just stop the teasing and get right to the point.” He laughed and kissed your lips.

Originally posted by rapnamu

Jimin: "JAGI!“ Your boyfriend yelled when he got home. "I’m in the kitchen.” “Oh, hey.” He smiled when he saw you. “Hello!” You smiled back. He sat down beside you on the table and kissed your neck. You shivered but pretended nothing happened. “Are you okay?” “Yes I am.” He kissed your neck again and you heard him laugh at your reaction. “You’re such a sensitive baby.” “I’m not! My neck is.” “Okay, let’s see…” He started kissing your neck repeatedly, leaving you extremely turned on. “OKAY!” You turned to him and kissed his lips. “Are you turned on?” He asked. “Yes. Now you’re going to have to figure it out.” “With all pleasure…” He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

Originally posted by jimiyoong

Taehyung: You were cuddling in bed. You were almost asleep when you feel his kisses on your neck. “Stop, Tae!” You laughed. “Nooo! You like that.” “Yes, I really like that.” You said unconsciously as his kisses began to get wetter with ulterior motives. “I know everything you like, Princess.” He gave you a smirk, just for getting you even more horny.

Originally posted by kimthwriter

Jungkook: Your boyfriend LOVES tease you in everything, no matter what. And when he found out you get turned on when he kissed your neck, he always did it. “Hey baby.” He said going up to you in bed. “Shut up, I’m reading.” “Keep reading.” He said and lay down beside you. Some minutes later, he began to give kisses and bites on your neck. “Why are you like this?” You asked, putting the book down and looking at him. “Because I want your attention, love!” He smiled. “Okay, you have all my attention now.” “Great.” He give you a smile and kissed you.

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Make fun of my kid? I'll get you back somehow.

So I am not sure if this belongs in @prorevenge, sense it wasn’t planned on my part. It kind of just fell in my lap. Feels more than petty, so here I am.

For a bit of background: My next door neighbor is/was a college student. She lives with our actual neighbor, her boyfriend. Typical crazy college kid. Weekend parties, drinking on her patio all hours of the night, and weird hours. You know the drill. I figured she was trying to experience college life, so why not? You do you lady!

Anyways one summer night last year she was sitting out on her back patio with her girlfriends doing their drunk thing. I am out wrapping up on some stuff with my toddler daughter. She at the time had a medical thing going on that caused her to walk a little weird. Nothing life altering and something that would heal with time. She did have a weeble waddle to her, especially when running. Sometimes she would fall right over. She was out running around with the dog and the ladies next door were waving and telling her how cute she was. All good.

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wholesome domestic prompts
  • i brought you home flowers just for the hell of it, no it doesn’t matter that we’ve been together for three years and i’ve never done this before, they are pretty (and so are you i love you)
  • we, the blankets and the pet have tangled into an irreversible knot on the couch and if no one comes save us this might be our end 
  • we wanted to cook but now we are dramatically singing a duet with kitchen utensils in our hands, this is quality Performance™ 
  • i’ve had a horrible week and you just brought me home my favourite treat
  • no, when i said i wanted you to help clean the house i did NOT mean you should do it wearing only, exclusively stockings, you insolent FOOL
  • one of us has to get out of bed to make pancakes and it’s not going to be me ok just go and bring me nourishment
  • it’s been TEN YEARS and you STILL don’t know how to properly tidy up the dishes!!!! these plates go here, but these almost identical ones go there, is it that hard??!? what, no, they look nothing alike!
  • you can’t go to work because i need cuddles
  • i’m sick but no don’t worry about me, go to work, no really i can handle myself, love, it’s…. ok that sounds wonderful i’m giving up pls stay
  • we have guests over…do you really think it’s an appropriate time to affectionately grab my butt and kiss my neck… in front of the entire table….ok
  • ‘i know we both don’t believe in marriage but let’s get married for tax benefits’… ‘listen i know i said that but if you don’t even try to be romantic about proposing so help me god. try. again.’
  • it’s raining but we’re sitting sheltered on the veranda, cuddled side by side, reading our books, and if you ask me then the weather and the moment can stay like this forever
  • sometimes i just can’t stop kissing your stupid face
magic touch bond au
  • i keep thinking of a magical au where jack and bitty wake up
  • like after a party or something and they’re both in excruciating pain
  • and so all the guys are freaking out and they sort of piece together that jack and bitty are being affected by the same thing
  • so holster hauls a screaming bitty into jack’s room and dumps him on the bed next to jack and the moment they touch everything…stops
  • why yes, it’s our old friend, the Forced to Be Touching At All Times Trope

Keep reading

I am here for Lancelot and lemme tell you why

No, I’m not talking about true, genuine relationship-y type things.
I’m talking straight up abusive and obsessive, namely Lotor being obsessed with Lance.
I want Lotor to attack the paladins, see Lance, and throw the plan out the window because holy fuck he needs that boy now.

Please consider this:

Lance gets captured (or traded for a cease fire [the team opposed but Lance went anyways]) and taken onto a Galra ship where he gets a room with a nice bed and everything, but there’s no windows, no unlocked door. The air vents have bars in front like a jail cell. His room may be luxurious, but Lance has never fell more imprisoned.

Lotor drops by constantly, forcing Lance to do things in exchange for his life. The Galran prince will dress up our paladin in various outfits, ranging from showy to modest. He makes him dance (I headcanon blue paladins having a history of being exceptional dancers) and, as soon as he learned Lance could, sing.
If Lance refused a request, he’d get hurt. He put up with it for a while, but soon got too annoyed. He didn’t care anymore. So what if he got hurt? It’s not like his friends were coming (casually throws in some Langst for ya [dont worry, I promise Voltron is doing all they can]).
Eventually, Lotor learned that physical pain wasn’t working anymore, so he switch to psychological. He visited less and less. He let Lance go crazy from lack of social interaction. He’d show up again weeks later, and lo and behold the blue paladin was willing to do just about anything.
Lance thrived on attention.
Lotor used it against him.
The Prince repeated the process. As time went on, Lance became more and more dependent on Lotor’s attention. The more disinterested he seemed, the greater the lengths the paladin was willing to go to.
Mental abuse turned to sexual harassment turned to reluctant - almost fearful - consent. The Prince wanted everything Lance had to offer, and he was going to take it using whatever means necessary. Out of fear of being abandoned, the paladin went with whatever Lotor demanded.

By the time Voltron rescued him, Lance could barely function without the structure Lotor gave him. He forgot how to act around so many people, far to used to being in solitude, or in the abusive presence of the prince.
Lance was never quite the same.

Edit: I’m writing this. It’s in the editing stage rn but it’ll be out soon! Edit #2: it’s here! https://helloitstrash.tumblr.com/post/161228677879/truce (I’m on mobile rip)
You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


“Out!”

It’s the first thing Y/n wakes up to, Savannah’s outraged voice echoing along the walls of Y/n’s bedroom.

Y/n groans, squinting her eyes open at the sudden movement of her bed shaking wildly.

Savannah’s pulling the stranger out of Y/n’s bed, her merciless hands continuously pushing him out the bedroom door. He’s half awake, his slumberous daze making him scramble as he attempts to throw his clothes back on.

“Fuckin’ Jesus” the unknown man grumbles, his eyes still half closed from the immense amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night.

Savannah remains relentless, despite his attempt to get fully dressed. He even falls at one point, when he hops on one foot to get his leg through his jeans, but she doesn’t stop for a second.

You, get out of here!” she demands, her hand giving him one last shove out the door before she slams it shut.

Y/n groans again, her sensitivity to anything other than complete darkness and silence making her throw the duvets over her head and bury her face in her pillow. She’s well aware that she has to embrace the very few seconds she has of total peace and quiet before Savannah begins to lecture her for the irresponsibility she just walked into.

She’s only able to reunite with darkness for a split second before Savannah pulls the covers completely off of her, bringing her back into the horrifying sunlight.

Y/n falls off the bed, letting out a groan as her still slightly intoxicated body makes contact with the wooden floor. Her hungover state is making it nearly impossible to figure out the chaos unraveling in the room; all she can really understand is the pounding in her head and the burning in her eyes every time she exposes them from their lids.

She rolls over onto her back, huffing as her fingers dig into her eyelids. She coughs, her abrupt movements making her stomach flip with every turn she makes. She’s given no time to recover before Savannah rips her arms away from her face, gripping onto her wrists as she pulls Y/n off of the floor.

“What the fuck is going on here, Y/n?!” Savannah yells, eyes glaring at Y/n’s very, very hungover stance.

Y/n nearly trips over her own two feet as she attempts to balance herself after Savannah harshly pulled her up from her collapsed figure. If she had the capability to answer back, she would have, but she’s still fucked up from last night and can barely stomach the sunlight seeping in from the curtains.

“Is this what you’ve been up to?!” Savannah spits, angry laughter tying into her words, “Is this the kind of shit you’ve been doing while cutting everyone off?! Sleeping with random guys?!”

The last thing Savannah expected to see was Y/n in bed with a half-naked man and empty bottles of alcohol scattered across her bedroom floor. It was extremely rare for Y/n to carelessly consume alcohol and have consistent one night stands. Savannah’s witnessed her go through these phases only a handful of times throughout their friendship, all of which stemmed from Y/n’s toxic intolerance of being alone.

She should have seen this coming, though. After finding out she’s been in a relationship with someone Y/n was in love with, the first thing she should have done was check up on her. But there was so much fear holding her back, so much guilt preventing her from confronting her about it.

She wouldn’t know exactly what to say, or how to say it, without making it sound like she was the shittiest friend in the world. She had a feeling Y/n had feelings for Harry, considering she had mentioned him a plethora of times once she met him.

And Savannah still took it upon herself to date Harry, for her own selfish reasons. She never thought that it was the potential reason Y/n was so distant. That thought was the last one in the back of her head, completely throwing her off guard when she found out.

She’s tried to reach out to her multiple times, only to be deliberately ignored and shut down. After a while, she figured all Y/n wanted was space, so she stopped trying for a couple days.

But nothing stopped Harry. He’d spend hours knocking on her front door, on his knees, begging for her to speak to him. He’d call her when he wasn’t near her, because he had driven himself crazy knowing he never told Y/n what he needed to tell her so urgently.

Y/n knew—she knew just how much effort he was putting into seeing her again. She heard him, every day, through her front door, but she never knew what to do. The constant fear that Harry didn’t feel the same way back was all the convincing she needed to never speak to him again.

There’s only so much her heart could break, and she didn’t know how many more times it could before she finally snapped.

Y/n grips her head as she squints her eyes shut, hissing at the throbbing in her head when Savannah’s voice booms throughout the room. The overwhelming migraine taking over Y/n’s head practically forces her to sit on the edge of her bed, the palm of her hands still digging into her eyes.

“Not cutting anyone off,” Y/n mumbles, grumbling when she opens her eyes properly to look at Savannah, “I’m just adjusting.”

It isn’t a lie. Her intention wasn’t to ignore them, not at all. But as time went on, the more her emotions started becoming fragile; one wrong sight would have made her break.

And as stupid as it sounds, having sex was the only time she felt wanted after Harry and Savannah started dating. Even if it was in a drunken state, even if it was just purely for physical pleasure, the hours spent with random men were the only moments she felt purpose.

It was also her biggest distraction. Having one night stands was her emotional outlet, her way of letting out all of her emotions without actually doing so. It sure as hell was better than being alone—anything was.

Savannah sighs, shaking her head softly as she kneels eye level to her. She’d never seen her like this before, so lost and broken. She would have lectured her further if she wanted to because she had every right to smack some sense into her. But after all this time, after all the pain she could only imagine Y/n going through, could she really do that to her? Could she really blame her for doing this to herself?

“Y/n,” she rubs her legs, “I have been the shittiest, most horrible friend to you. I was so selfish and so inconsiderate, and I don’t blame you for not speaking to me these past couple days. But, Y/n, this—” her hands gesture around the horrendous state of her bedroom, “this isn’t adjusting. Having drunk sex isn’t going to rid your feelings for Harry. You’re suppressing your emotions, you’re running away. That’s what you’re doing.”

Y/n’s lips begin to quiver as her eyes well with tears; the first time she’s truly cried since the night she saw Harry at Lexi’s. Savannah feels somewhat relieved when she sees the tears falling from Y/n’s eyes. It isn’t a familiar sight to see, but it shows her that she’s actually accepting what she’s been hiding all along.

“You have to talk to me. I don’t care if you yell at me, Y/n. I don’t care what you do to me, but you have to talk to me. You have to show me something. I can’t be hearing about your feelings from Harry, that’s not fair for anyone.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Y/n whispers, her words breaking beneath cries she so desperately wishes she could stop.

But there’s no going back now. The alcohol is still running in her system and she’s reacting instinctively. There is nothing holding her back, not now.

“How was I supposed to tell him that I was in love with him when I knew he didn’t feel the same way? And how was I supposed to tell you anything about him when I knew this would end up happening anyways?! And what was I supposed to say to the both of you when you both decided to take it upon yourselves to flirt in front of me?!

By now, Y/n’s blood is starting to boil. The words coming out of her mouth are laced with venom, her sudden shift in mood making Savannah swallow thickly. But everything in her is operating a million miles an hour, her words coming out faster than her brain can register. She doesn’t even remember standing up from the bed while she paces around her bedroom, empty bottles rolling around the wooden floor.

“Because no matter what I would have done, it would have ended the same! The way it always does, Savannah! The way it always ends with you getting what I want, even if I want it more—“

“Y/n—"

“Even if I need it! You still get it!”

The harshness in her voice is replaced by violent cries, her words drowned in uncontrollable sobs.

The pain is all over. Everything she’s attempted to numb is now all hitting her at once. All the loneliness, all the anger, all the hurt she’s been burying is now reaching the surface. She can barely breathe, all of the emotions suffocating her, squeezing against her throat.

Savannah is quick to embrace her shaken body, shushing her as her hands rub up and down her back.

A part of her always knew she was the reason Y/n’s love life was barely existent. Although Y/n never admitted it, she drops hints at it every so often. She did notice how all of Y/n’s high school crushes ended up liking her instead, and did notice how whenever Y/n tried to date, she would barely mention them to her. It was as if she was hiding them from her, completely intimidated that Savannah would take away her only chance at a relationship.

And Savannah can’t shake the horrible feeling she has when Y/n admits all of it to her.

Y/n buries her face in her shoulder, her tears soaking through her t-shirt. She wishes she could hold a grudge against Savannah, but she doesn’t have the heart to blame her for anything that’s happened. Everything is because of Y/n, everything happening is because of her fear of emotions and every bit of her has no one else to blame.

“I need him.” Y/n sobs into her shoulder, her hands tugging at the ends of her shirt for some sort of release.

“I need him so much. And I hate it—I hate that I do so m—much.”

“Oh, Y/n.” Savannah kisses her temple, holding her higher against her.

She knows how much Y/n needs him, and knows now more than ever. She was her happiest when she first met him, she was almost an entirely different person. But now, after everything that’s happened, Savannah has never seen her more of a wreck than she is in this moment.

“Let’s sit you down, you need to breathe.”

Y/n whimpers as she’s placed back on the bed, Savannah reminding her to breathe every couple of seconds. She looks at Y/n with sadness in her eyes, comforting her whenever she needs it most.  

“He needs you, too, you know.” Savannah sighs, shaking her head as she takes Y/n’s fidgeting hands into hers.

“I never noticed it until you distanced yourself from us. He didn’t open up to me the way he should have, never talked to me the way he had with you. When I asked him about it—asked him why he wasn’t communicating with me properly, he always mentioned you.”

Y/n flutters her eyes shut, pursing her lips with the slight possibility that Harry may actually feel the same way towards her. There was always a part of her that fully believed the only reason he’s tried so hard to reach her was because he felt guilty for hurting her so much.

But knowing that there’s a chance in Harry reciprocating feelings gives Y/n an overwhelming sensation she’s ever experienced before. It’s the first time in a while there’s a particular type of warmth in her chest, and she swears she begins to tear up from the bit of happiness she’s been missing.

“He would tell me that you were the only one he truly felt comfortable around. Even confessed you were the only one he’d ever be able to talk to, even if we were in a relationship. He was going absolutely mental.”

Savannah sweeps the pad of her thumb under Y/n’s eye, catching the few extra tears that are overflowing. She smiles weakly at her in reassurance, raking her knotted hair between her fingers.

“No matter how much he claimed to like me, he loved you. He’ll always love you. And even when he was completely oblivious, I know now that, deep down, he was always yours. He was never really mine, no matter how much we all thought differently.”

Y/n nods slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips when she hears Savannah’s words. It’s the first sense of hope she’s felt in a while, and it almost completely rids the pain. Almost.

“I’m sorry for ruining your relationship, though. I kind of feel like this is all my fault.”

Savannah laughs softly, finding it almost completely unbelievable that Y/n always finds a way to apologize, even when things aren’t her fault.

“Are you serious, Y/n? Nobody, including me, can love that man half as much as you do. I ruined your relationship. You barely had anything to ruin.”

She runs her hands through Y/n’s hair one last time before patting her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face as she stands up from her kneeling position.

“Now, up you go. I believe you have to talk to someone who’s been dying to see you.”


It’s when Y/n is about to walk out of her door, freshly showered with a new change of clothes, ready to face Harry when she realizes she never said it.

She never fully told Harry she loves him, not when he was conscious, at least. She had felt it for so long, it has taken over her for so long, yet she never told him how she felt. It almost makes her wonder if it’s the reason why he’s been trying so hard for her.

He needs to hear her say it.

“It’s not hard.” She mumbles to herself as she unlocks her front door.

“Not hard, I just have to fucking sa—”

“Y/n!” Harry breathes out, springing from his position on the ground up to his feet.

He twitches when he instinctively brings his hand up to reach for her, but he holds himself back. He isn’t quite sure how far he’ll allow her to go, but if it were up to him, every part of her would be against him. Every single part.

She sucks in a breath, not expecting to see him waiting on her doorstep, and certainly not expecting him to seem so relieved to see her.

“H—Harry,” she whispers hesitantly, “what are you—“

“I’m sorry!” He stutters, interrupting her before she has a chance to finish asking her question.

“I know how inappropriate it is of me to just sit on your doorstep so unexpectedly but I knew Savannah was coming and I thought that maybe this would be the only time I’d get to see you and I was going to come in but some guy came running out of here and I didn’t want to get in between your time with Savannah so I just figured I’d wait until you came back out but I wasn’t sure if you ever would so I just figured I'd—“

He stops rambling when he feels Y/n’s hand on his cheek, her eyes looking at him with so much tenderness he swears his heart melts.

“Catch your breath, Harry.” She mumbles, rubbing her thumb along his cheek, “Just take a breath.”

He inhales sharply as he closes his eyes, turning his head so that her hand is against his lips. He kisses her palm softly before she moves it to play with his unbrushed hair.

His eyes flutter shut at her touch, his body almost completely melting into her. He feels his weakest now more than ever, and he’s never been more relieved to be this close to her again.

“Who was he, Y/n?” he whispers.

“The guy, who ran out of here, who was he?“

As much of a coward as it makes him, the thought of her in bed with someone else physically and mentally pains him more so than he’s ever expected. His head swims with thoughts of her naked, trembling, crying as she devotes her love to some other man, and the more he thinks about it, the more sick his stomach feels.

“Have I been trying for nothing? Have I been wasting my time?”

How could you ever doubt my love for you? is the first thought that comes to her. How could you ever question how much I love you?

Instead of saying the words right at the tip of her tongue, her eyes crease inward, slightly shaking her head as she scrapes her fingertips delicately against his scalp.

“I don’t know, Harry.” she whispers honestly, “I don’t know who he is.”

He nods softly, but nothing in her answer reassures him. He knows there is no other explanation for a guy to run out of her house at nine in the morning without a shirt on.

“May I come in? Wanna talk.” He asks tentatively.

“Of course you can.”

Silence falls between them as they both claim spots on opposite sides of the room. 

There’s a tension in the room they both can’t seem to shake, an unaddressed barrier between them making it nearly impossible to find an appropriate way to start a conversation.

Harry’s the first one to break the silence, however, after a few minutes past of each of them refusing to make any eye contact with each other. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

The question caught Y/n’s attention quickly, her head that was once resting in the palm of her hand now up on its own, a small “hm?” parting past her lips.

She’s acting dumb even though she knows exactly what he’s talking about. She just isn’t prepared to answer him, not in the way he wants her to.

“That you’re in love with me. Were you ever going to tell me?”

She shrugs, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she tears her gaze away from his. She isn’t used to confrontation, especially when it involves her emotions. It’s one of her weaknesses, but there’s absolutely no way around this one. Even if there was, she wouldn’t have the audacity to take it. He deserves to know—everything this time.

“I told you before.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as he looks at her from across the room. No, he may have been oblivious about her feelings in the beginning, but he sure as hell would never have forgotten it if she told him how she felt.

“Bullshit!” He scoffs. “You didn’t tell me shit! We wouldn’t be here right now if you had told me!”

She sighs, her cheek laying right back down in the palm of her hand, almost as if shying away from him.

“Well, it’s just—you were sleeping.”

Harry stands from his place on the couch, face scrunching in aggravation as his hands rub up and down his face.

“You’re kidding me, right? You have to be fucking kidding me right now!”

His fingers harshly grip the roots of his hair before stomping is way towards her. If he doesn’t get any answers out of her, he swears he’ll lose his goddamn mind.

His hands grip the sides of her face, squeezing her jaw between his hands as he looks at her bewildered.

“I need answers, Y/n. I don’t think you understand how many fucking answers I need right now.”

He speaks through clenched teeth and a tightened jaw, frustration boiling in his blood as she gives him the outright most ambiguous and outrageous answers he’s ever heard in his life.

Y/n places her hands on top of his, her fingernails digging gently into his skin. Despite the harshness of his stare, this is the first time she’s seen him in weeks, and she still finds him to be the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.

“It was the night after I drove you back from Lexi’s, when you and Savannah were kind of going through that rough patch.”

He falls to his knees in between her legs, an almost unnoticeable smile tugging at his lips from the memories of that night. Because although Savannah had left him by himself, he had a night with Y/n that changed him forever.

"You fell asleep on me, after you told me you were still going to fight for her. That was probably one of the worst things you could have said to me, but you didn’t know, and I was angry at myself for not telling you sooner. I didn’t know how else to tell you unless you were—you were sleeping.”

His hand reaches up to her lips, his thumb tracing along the outlines of her mouth once she’s done speaking. No matter how much she confuses him, and no matter how fucking angry she makes him, he wouldn’t want to be staring at anybody else right now.

“I loved you then, too” he whispers, “I didn’t know it. I didn’t know anything until you left me. I knew you meant everything to me, I knew you were the only one I trusted so deeply. But the second I lost you, I felt empty.”

He presses his forehead against her collar bones, her heart beating quickly against his neck. She sighs, her fingers intertwining with his against her lap as her hips slide more towards the edge, her knees supporting the sides of his chest.

“Didn’t matter that I had Savannah. She was lovely, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t you. I tried so hard to make myself believe I was just missing you as a friend, but there was nothing that convinced me.”

His tearful eyes looked into hers, both chuckling slightly at their current state. They’re both crying, both their hearts racing in their chests. If someone were to tell them now that there’s a feeling even remotely close to how beautiful they feel now, together, they wouldn’t have believed it for a second.

Y/n wipes away the loose tears on his cheeks while she sniffles, giggling softly at how stupid they probably look.

“I’ve always loved you, Harry,” she whispers, “there’ll never be a time that I stop. No matter how hard I try, my love for you is stronger.”

It’s when the words fall from her lips that Harry realizes all he needed was for her to hear her say it. Her voice is so sweet as she says it, too, and her eyes leave no trace out doubt when she looks into him.

He tries to hold back the irresistible urge to kiss her, but it’s completely impossible. His lips press feverishly against hers, both of them releasing moans at just how right it feels to be kissing one another. Their kiss isn’t the slightest bit romantic. It’s harsh, it’s desperate, it’s messy but it’s just what they need.

Harry crawls on top of her, his hands on every part of her they can touch. He groans when he feels her nails scratch down his back, leaving her giggling underneath him.

“Mine.” He growls, his thumb putting pressure right underneath her chin.

He admires her face, the glorious look of her swollen lips, wet eyes, and pink cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. A soft whimper leaves her lips, craving nothing more than to feel his lips against hers again.

“These lips are mine. All of you—all of you is mine. No other fucking wanker gets you the way I do.”

She smirks, her eyes half-lidded.

“‘m not allowed to sleep with random guys but you’re allowed to fuck my best friend?”

He presses his lips against her again, his hands brushing loose strands of hair away from her face as he does so.

“Never fucked her,” He mumbles against her lips, “couldn’t get you off my mind.”

Y/n rolls over so that she’s on top of Harry, her legs on either side of his waist as her hands roam his chest through his t-shirt. He looks priceless like this, weak and breathless underneath her as her hands grip the sides of his face.

“The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

He blushes, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he sends her the biggest grin she’s ever seen on him. His eyes are full of love, too, and Y/n swears every breath she had the chance to take has been knocked right out of her.

“Nobody makes me feel the way you do, Y/n. Nobody.

Please don’t yell at me for apologizing for everything. I’m sorry I feel like I’m screwing everything up, every minute of every day. I’m sorry I’m not good enough, and that I need constant reassurance and validation. I’m sorry I have panic attacks and that I have so many triggers. I’m sorry I suck at being an adult, and have to do things at my speed, whether that means actually getting out of bed, or cleaning, or even taking a shower. I’m sorry that I get so nervous about little things. I’m sorry I overthink every detail. I’m sorry that I don’t think I’m beautiful. I’m sorry that I argue with you about me being beautiful. I’m sorry that I sweat a lot because I get nervous. I’m sorry that I either eat way too much or not at all. I’m sorry that I have night terrors and get little to no sleep. I’m sorry I’m always sick or in a lot of pain. I’m sorry I let you get so close to me, and now you’re probably miserable. I’m sorry you had to go through this. I’m sorry I ever existed.

spitfirechick  asked:

Hi! Are you taking prompts right now? If not, super sorry to bother you! But if you are, do you think you could write some fluffy nurseydex? I've been having a bad day and could use a pick me up. Thanks either way!

Hi! Could you maybe write a nurseydex comfort?? I’m a bit down rn, people keep bashing my hockey team just because we won

“I almost cried in front of three different advisors today,” Dex huffs, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“Oh - um,” Nursey chokes out. He’s a little caught off guard - he certainly wasn’t expecting that response when he asked Dex how his day went.

“I didn’t actually cry,” Dex shrugs, as if that makes it better, “Thought about it, though.”

Nursey doesn’t know if he’s supposed to press for more information or let Dex be. They’ve been dating for a month, he’s still trying to feel their relationship out. He waits a beat, and when Dex doesn’t elaborate at all he can’t help himself from asking, “Why?”

Keep reading

“I deleted your number from my phone month and months ago so that I wouldn’t text you in the late night. I know you sleep well, and fully throughout the night, and you grew sad and distanced yourself each morning you woke to find my frustration, years too late. I unfriended you on Facebook because you liked all the posts I put up, the happy ones, the good ones, the fun ones. I trained my brain to forget your last name. I taught myself not to think of your eyes. Or the shape of your collar bones. I now can proudly say I don’t think of you late at night when I stare at the light coming in my bedroom windows.”

I’m trying to slow time, and stay still enough so that I don’t wreck anything. That I don’t turn any of the good let in my life into something negative. 

I’m writing everything down lately. Because I don’t trust my memory to catch all the good and bad. It’s like a recently mended net, about to test it’s new strength. 

I hate writing K’s and G’s in my handwriting. I like writing L’s and S’s. I bought a spray bottle at the dollar store and filled it up with water and eucalyptus essential oil. I’ve been burning lavender incense and spraying my pillows with the eucalyptus water. I’ve rearranged my bookcase, and listened to an old FM radio. I searched for a station that didn’t have commercials for about 20 mins. My internet had been down some 24 hours at that point and I just needed a little something in my ears.

I’ve been gone 11 days, and now my cats don’t leave me alone. They come, twirling and dancing between my feet as I walk around surveying this apartment I missed. Each tiny and large thing put in a place that feels right, at least for now.  

In college I would repaint my studio apartment’s walls in the middle of the night because I needed a bit of a change. I would rearrange pillows, shelves and furniture because it felt better thinking about how I’d never been kissed. How I’d never known the touch of a trusted lover. Now I do it because it feels good to seek and find solace and comfort here, away from the world outside. 

I’m not sorry that I’ve allowed certain men take root in my memories. Idaho with his grumbling, growling, and breathtaking smile, his declarations. Brown eyes with the way his mouth moved when he talked and his tattoos, and his love of achingly soft music. The midwest gent for his attentive nature, patience, and his stoicism. My southern best friend who made me laugh like no other, with goofy memorable moments of pride and care, his strength. My contractor ex, nationally ranked rugby boyfriend who lived in the Poconos and who made me feel delicate, womanly, but who trusted me with a hammer and power tools. The tall gangly boy who grew into a handsome man, one night to take my hand late at night in his sports car only to whispered beautiful words of praise besides a lake under the moonlight some miles later. 

But that’s because I sometimes forget the bad associated with each. Or the bad I brought to them. 

I’m sitting on the floor, my legs have fallen asleep and I know I should shed my clothes and crawl into my bed. I should make a list of all I want to accomplish tomorrow, and I should, I should, I should, I should. 

I think I’ll soak in the tub, or change my sheets and get into bed and play a song that starts slow and sad, but builds in my chest like road trip views where you get surprised by a great landscape after the same sad thing miles and miles. Just one more hill. Just one more hike, one more mile, until you’re closer. I’m closer.

Everyday, I am thankful for those who have loved me, and who have allowed me to love them, even if it wasn’t enough for either of us in the long run. Because I’m learning to love myself more, and more. Learning to call myself out on my bullshit. Learning that exciting things happen every day, that I can make exciting things happen, worthwhile things.  

That one day, doesn’t matter how soon, all these memories, all this growth will mean a more successful relationship with another extraordinary person. With my extraordinary person. Who will grow with me. That will take me as I am, a person capable of greatness, even if that greatness is just great according to each of us, and the small things I do to affect others positively. 

I just have to breathe in, make several small movements that turn into larger ones, exhale, then do it all over again.