#fifteen year old who was suddenly becoming his own and a lot of peoples therapists.

[leadersguilt]

cant remember bringing this up for a while so honestly i'll never be over the reiiteration that jean himself has a bleeding heart. he is going to be both blunt and honest with whoever hes speaking to, but in a way that he hopes will come to help them understand the situation but also does it so whoever he's speaking with actually understands the full situation and what that may entail despite the gruesome outcome.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 14

Hannibal reads too much into Max's attempt to reconcile and cult girl revisits her past.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: discussions of death, abandonment, military casualties, emotional abuse

You soon returned to the opera knowing you had nothing to hide. Hannibal selected for you an off-white maternity gown so form-fitting it was practically painted on. He wanted everyone to see that you, his queen, empress and goddess, were carrying his child.

It only took that evening for the whole dynamic to change. Suddenly, you were an expectant new mother. Imogen had been a massive hit, you were planning to go again.

You were affixing your heavy cubic zirconia earrings when you heard a knock at the door. You hesitated, but hurried down the stairs when you saw who it was.

"Max?" You said, upon opening the door. He stood there awkwardly, holding a bouquet of flowers. "Hi?"

"Hey, [F/N]." Max greeted, eyes darting nervously around the porch. "I just came around to apologize in person. I'm sorry I was such a chauvinist prick."

You leaned against the door. "Oh?"

"You were right." He continued. "I don't know what it's like to carry a baby, and, unless something goes very wrong, I never will."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." You smiled.

"Anyway, these are for you." He said, handing the bouquet over. "They're chrysanthemums."

"Thank you, Max." You said, accepting the flowers.

"Archie and I-" He scratched the back of his head. "We thought that, maybe, if you'd still have us, that we'd name the baby Chrysanthemum. With your permission, of course."

"Like the picture book?" Your face lit up. "With the little mouse girl?"

Max nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, exactly."

You hugged the bouquet into your chest and considered it again. You looked back at Hannibal, who hadn't looked up from his expectant fathers' website for a second all day. He surrounded himself with books about child psychology, attachment theory, developmental behavior patterns and somehow found himself on a tangent about institutionalized misogyny in medicine.

"I'm sorry, Max." You said, sincerely. "I really do appreciate you coming down here and apologizing, but-"

Max put his hands up and gave you a disarming smile. "I understand. Plans change."

"I just really want to stress that it's not you." You assured him. "I've kind of... really grown to like the idea of being a parent. And I think that was Hannibal's plan all along, too."

"I believe a congratulations is in order, then." His voice turned up in delight. "I'm very happy for you. Both of you."

You clutched the bouquet to your chest. "Thank you."

"Well, I'd better get going." He stepped backwards down the stairs. "I've got three pints of Ben and Jerry's in the backseat and Archie'll have my head if I come home and they've melted."

"Max, wait." You stopped him before he could get down the driveway.

"Hm?"

You leaned against the threshold and smiled warmly. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Max returned the smile. "Of course not."

You waved goodbye and shut the door. You hurried to the kitchen to put the flowers in water before you had to go.

"Who was that, love?" Hannibal asked, half-heartedly. He was still very fixated on his research.

"Max Thomas-Park." You answered, unwrapping the flowers from the decorative plastic.

Hannibal looked up from his computer, but left the room silent for you to fill.

"He wanted to make amends." You explained. You walked across the room to the china cabinet and selected a vase big enough to hold the ornate bouquet. "Brought flowers and everything."

"Chrysanthemums?" He asked, sniffing the air.

"I see your sense of smell is coming back." You commented.

"Interesting selection." He narrowed his eyes on the bouquet.

"Well, he said that was what he wanted to name the kid." You offered. "It was a cute pitch, not gonna lie."

Hannibal shut his laptop and examined the bouquet up close. "If he wanted to express regret, he would have done better to bring you blue or purple hyacinths."

"Well, like I said." You made a point to project a little more. "He said he wanted to name his daughter chrysanthemum."

"Mums are given to show sympathy for those in mourning." Hannibal continued, clearly having his own conversation.

"Hannibal-"

"I think your cousin got her hooks in him and he's planning to--" He cut himself off, lest he speak the unthinkable into reality. "That's why he brought mourning flowers."

"Max Thomas-Park is conspiring with Anna to kill our unborn baby?" You said, flatly, to emphasize how insane he sounded.

Hannibal held a bloom between his fingers and looked closely at it. "It's the kind of hint I would leave. For courtesy's sake."

"I think looking at parenting blogs all day has made you a little paranoid." You observed, knowing full well that an overprotective husband and soon-to-be father of your child was not a bad problem to have. Nevertheless, you shut the laptop and touched his cheek. "Come on. We're going to be late for the opera."

You heaved yourself into the passenger's seat of the car, feeling the seat give beneath your heavy frame. Every time you got into the car, you remembered that you needed to shop for a car seat. The thought just as soon left your mind every time. 

“We need to look for a car seat.” You said as Hannibal shut the door, hoping that he’d remember. 

“I mean,” Hannibal blurted out, still lost in his own conversation. “Max is a cultured and well-educated man. He has to know the implications of his flowers.” 

You huffed, dreading to think that paranoid delusion was symptomatic of his parenting style. “Right. The twenty-seven year old data analyst who graduated with a finance MBA from UChicago is also proficient in the outdated and frivolous language of flowers.” 

“In Italy, mums are only given as comfort for loss.” Hannibal said with undeserved conviction. “Exclusively, [F/N].” 

You rolled your eyes and typed something up on your phone. You raised your eyebrows, feeling a bit proud of yourself for what you found. 

“In Korea, y’know, the country that Max’s family is from,” You corrected. “The chrysanthemum is a symbol of friendship.” 

Hannibal tensed up for a moment, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. It was as if he were trying to break himself out of a trance. “...I’m sorry, darling.” 

“I know you’re scared.” You stared at his profile, trying to make out an expression. “I’m also... pretty scared. But you can’t take it out on a guy who has nothing to do with it.” 

“I am scared.” He affirmed, but the way in which he did was a telltale sign that he wasn’t giving you the full story. 

“Of?” You raised your eyebrow. “Finish the sentence, Hannibal.” 

"I need to keep our baby safe." He answered. "And I cannot in good conscience let her come into the world knowing that someone wants to hurt her. To hurt you."

You sighed. "Hannibal, are you seriously still worried about Anna?"

"Don't underestimate the role privilege and entitlement plays in the decision to commit acts of violence." He enunciated carefully. "You of all people should know that."

"Anna has cultivated such a perfect victim image to project outwardly that even a hint of proactive violence would shatter it." You explained. "She's the poor girl who has things done to her. Her evil cousin ruined her marriage. Her evil cousin destroyed her career. And she's the innocent victim in all of it."

"Logically, I know that you can speak on her behavior with more authority than I." Hannibal admitted.

"No shit." You scoffed. "I had to live with her."

"Can we at least entertain the idea that she has something planned?" He pleaded.

"I'm surprised at you." You said. "You never really struck me as the overly-cautious type."

Hannibal shook his head. "With my own life, I'm willing to gamble. But not when it's you. And not when it's Imogen."

You tensed up. His admitted willingness to put himself in danger unlocked a core memory you had buried deep down. The only thing you knew about your own father was that he was willing to put himself in danger. To go overseas and die for fuck-all instead of live for the child he selfishly created then abandoned. He chose to give his life for oil. You didn't choose to grow up without a father and your mother didn't choose to raise a child without a partner. He made that choice for you.

"Now what are you not telling me?" Hannibal broke you out of your trance. "I know that look, [F/N]."

"Nothing." You shook your head. "You should really not plan on dying anytime soon."

"I promise you, I am not going anywhere." His voice softened. "Least of all, to Iraq."

"Okay, you're a pretty good therapist but you never told me you could read minds." You threw your hands up in defeat. "Are you a psychiatrist or are you Loki?"

"As fun as being the god of mischief would be," Hannibal smiled to himself. "I just happen to have a steel-trap memory and an admittedly quite obsessive fixation on the mental health of the mother of my child."

"I swear to god I never told you about him." You denied. "Not even in passing."

"You didn't have to." He assured you. "Beatrice did."

You were surprised for a fraction of a second until the information sat in your head long enough to realize it wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Beatrice took every opportunity she got to brag about her son's sacrifices. She never once mentioned the sacrifices he forced upon you. Only that her son was a hero.

"Did you get the 'don't believe anything [F/N] has to say about my son' speech?" Your voice flattened in complete non-surprise.

"It was a prepared speech?" Hannibal chuckled. "Pity. I thought I was special."

"She gave it to my first boyfriend." You rolled your eyes. "We were, like, fifteen."

"The root of your psychological issues becomes clearer every time we talk about Beatrice." He commented under his breath.

"I know." You conceded.

He pulled into the parking lot, turned the car off and placed his hand over yours.

"Your father was a coward." He said, bluntly. It was nice to hear what had been echoing in the back of your head out loud for once. "I know no country to serve. No god to glorify. I promise, you have the whole of me. My mind, body and soul belongs to you and our child."

You squeezed his hand. "I couldn't ask for anything else."

[lifeofroos]

Part 48. I like Ariadne. 

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico takes a minute to talk to Dionysus’ wife, Ariadne. The rest of the story can be found on AO3, FanFiction.net and in Tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di Angelo, Fanfic etc. 

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 48: Rosemary Tea

I lit a small incense stick. The smell of pinewood filled my cabin. Just when I wanted to begin praying to get Ariadne’s attention, I already got it. One moment, I was in my cabin, the next I was on Olympus, looking out over a massive vineyard. 

‘Nico di Angelo.’

I turned around. ‘The lady of the house, I assume.’ 

‘Yes. You called on me?’

Barely. ‘Yes. I, well…’ I shrugged. I wasn’t entirely sure. I didn’t think I’d get this far. 

Ariadne put her chin up. ‘I can’t say I wasn’t expecting you one of these days. Why don’t we talk?’

I mean, that is what I had in mind. I nodded and she gestured that I could come into the palace. 

Dionysus’ palace was big. It took a good twenty minutes to walk to a sitting room on the other side. In the meantime, Ariadne chatted about the decor for a bit. It was clear she had been responsible for most of it (it was way too stylish to be done by Dionysus). 

We sat down in two comfy chairs, with a coffee table in between. Ariadne snapped her fingers. A pot of tea appeared. ‘Sorry for the long walk. The west flank of the palace is not under control by the headmaster, so I had to bring you there.’ 

Zeus. ‘Eh, I get it.’ So. Now that we sit and we’ve got tea, I was kind of curious about how you managed to live with Dionysus for thousands of years.

‘Lets get the obvious question of your mind: You are wondering how I managed to live with Dionysus for thousands of years.’ 

I nodded, a little perplexed, but mostly glad I did not have to open the conversation. 

She poured out two cups of tea and picked up her own. ‘I don’t read minds or anything, it’s just what they always ask. The short version is that he helped me when I was going through a hard time, the same way he is helping you now. The difference is that he somehow fell in love with me.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘And, after some more time, which he gave me, I felt the same way. Got married, stayed together, end of story.’ She picked up her cup. ‘Yet, you probably already guessed that there was more.’ 

‘Well, Yes. I would say that the support he gives you goes further than with me. He once, kind of accidently, told me about the bond.’

She nodded. ‘Accidently? Oh well. Yet, yes, we have a bond. I’d say it connects us quite well.’

‘Quite, quite well, I’d say. For thousands of years.’ I picked up my own cup. ‘Hephaestus told me Dionysus treated him like a regular human… or god, whatever. Like he was more than a tool or a piece of garbage. That is basically how my therapy works. ’

Ariadne nodded. ‘We share that sentiment, you, me and Hephaestus, among others. We feel like we are worth something. Like someone does care about us. That is how it made me feel.’ She looked at the ceiling for a second. ‘Cared for, and like I was finally free to do and go where I wanted, gods! That means something after constantly being bound to something, either my chambers in the palace, or the island, or the men I was with. I still don’t know how I did confinment for twenty years.’ Her expression soured. ‘I do know why I went with Theseus. It meant... a change of scenary, at least.’ 

I sighed and slouched in the chair a little. ‘Ah, yes, sons of Poseidon.’ 

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Sons?’

I looked up. She didn’t know? ‘I thought Dionysus would have told you. Anyway, I was in love with one of those too, once. He just wasn’t a piece of garbage about it. Did not abandon me somewhere, at least, or bully me for it. He might have been a little confused, but, you know. I get that. He seems confused about most things, actually.’

She shifted. ‘It must have been Percy Jackson.’

I took a sip. ‘Yes. And, eh, sorry.’ Didn’t want to rub it in your face. I wanted to ask what she thought of Percy, but maybe that wasn’t…

‘I do not have anything against Perseus Jackson, if you were wondering about that.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I think Dio has more problems with that than I do.’

‘I think you might just be right.’

She sighed. ‘Oh well. Yet, I did hear you were accepted like you are in camp, son of Poseidon as your first crush or not.’

‘I was! Camp overall is pretty accepting, actually, that is nice. They even learned to trust Hades kids. And idiots who fall in love with sons of Poseidon. It took a while, but they accept Annabeth now.’

She chuckled and pushed her hair out of the way. ‘So many more things are getting accepted these days, even amongst the gods. There is a shift in their behaviour. I don’t know what the trigger was, after thousands of years, but I am glad it is this way.’ She twisted a curl around a finger. ‘Sorry, entirely different subject, but how did your talk with the elder gods go?’

‘It was weird, but it went good enough. Over the last few days, I have heard less and less of the voices from Tartarus, and more and more from the voices of where the Elder Gods are.’

She smiled and nodded. ‘Luckily. You know, admitting the elder gods is a central part of becoming immortal. Because of previous lives, something, something, even the lord of the heavens is not really sure, I had to talk to them.’ She sighed. ‘Basically, part of me is also an older god, which meant that I was supposed to fill this role as a goddess right now.’ She rolled her eyes. I snickered. ‘I hardly understand what it means.’

I adjusted my jacket. ‘Still, that must be strange, though, to know that part of you is just…’ I waved my hands around. ‘Somewhere in superheaven.’

‘You get used to it.’

‘Still, it seems weird.’ 

‘To me, it seems weird that you visit the Underworld so often.’ She shuddered. ‘For me, it wasn’t a very good place. After I was killed, I was sent to Elysium. My father, king Minos, kept trying to control me and I missed Dio terribly. I would have chosen rebirth if Dionysus hadn’t taken me out of there.’ 

‘Oh yes, bringing people back to live, the thing he tells me is unhealthy to do.’

She gave me a mellow smile. ‘The difference is that he is immortal and you are not.’ 

Maybe. ‘Not yet. And I met king Minos, too. He was a nasty piece of work, sorry not sorry to say it. He tried to control me into his evil villian plans.’

‘I am not offended. He was a bad king, a bad husband to my mother and a bad father to his children.’

‘And a bad partner to raise the dead with.’

‘I am going to pretend I did not hear that.’

‘Thanks. Although my therapist is already aware of it.’ I took a sip. ‘Then we can both agree that he was a huge dirtwad.’

‘We quite certainly can. I still do not forgive him for marrying off my youngest sister to some old king who died not even a year later. She was then forced out of the palace to make room for the new king and queen, just so Minos could get the bridewealth payments.’

‘Oh yes, that is a very dirtwad thing to do.’ We both sighed.

Her expression grew dark. ‘I used to think my mother was better. She tried to protect her children, even Asterion. Yet, that was before she tried to take my labyrinth and use it against who I am. What she did a few years ago, raising it without my permission…’ she clutched her fist. ‘She had no business doing that and getting me wound up in it again. Before that, the labyrinth was a memory, safely far away from the human world. Now...’ She looked at her teacup. 

I nodded. ‘Eh… my sister was the one who handled Pasiphae in that encounter. I think she is gone, now…’

‘She isn’t, Nico, and she never will. She harnesses too much power to just be gone.’ 

I fell silent for a second. ‘I think I believe that,’ I whispered. 

‘I hope you do, but I also hope you don’t have to deal with her in your lifetime anymore.’

I was fifteen. On average, there was a lot of lifetime left to meet Pasiphae a second time. But I did not want to think of that right now.

‘If there is anything you take away from this, let it be that women in mythology, and not uncommonly men too, often fled, because the situation at home was chocking them.’ She had a flicker in her eyes, which suddenly left. She shook her head. ‘You probably don’t want to think of that right now. Say, have you ever tried this tea before?’

Now she was just trying to change the subject. I played along. ‘I recognise it. Rosemary?’

‘Yes! We grow it in the garden, actually, or better said, my garden. His garden is more or less... taken.’ She smiled again and looked out the window, at the vineyard that spread all around the castle. 

‘Guess that makes sense.’

‘I wouldn’t mind more flowers. But hey, I knew what I was getting myslef in to, back when I moved here.’ We kept looking out the window. I noticed a few panthers lazily roaming about. Ariadne didn’t even blink at seeing them. Just a regular day in Dionysus’ palace, apparently. 

‘I don’t know if I will tell Dionysus about this encounter.’

‘I think he already had a hunch it was going to happen, because I did. Bond and stuff.’ I nodded. ‘If you already told him you were in love with Percy… well, that is an easy link to me, I’d say.’

Maybe. Ariadne studied me, before she stood up. ‘If your finished, maybe you should get back. They might begin to miss you. 

I looked up at the clock and jumped up when I saw it was already past eight. Ariadne telling me the clocks were mad and did what they wanted did not calm me down. 

While we walked back to the mystic Zeus-free west flank, she said: ‘I am glad I could finally meet you. You seem like a nice, smart young man.’

‘Thanks. Eh, also, thanks for the talk and thanks for the tea. It was good tea.’

‘I’ll give you some. I am kind of proud of it, actually. It is one of the only teas that isn’t brewed by Demeter.’ 

A/N: My first draft of this felt clunky, it is better now. Still, I find it strange that it turned out the way it did. That Ariadne of all people is the goddess who keeps her distance for a bit, aside from the things she has in common with Nico.

As I said before: I need more Ariadne fanfiction I am being denied my RIGHTS the first hit when I google it is my own fanfic of two years ago and one chapter in Weezl’s drabble doc. 

Legit, Ariadne is the ‘mistress of the labyrinth.’ Don’t know how RR missed that. Be prepared because this fact WILL come back in a later chapter. 

[kalgalen]

College au nonsense, tidbit 3

(in which i don’t know anything about the american school system and it shows)

***

For the first fifteen years of his life, Travis is sure he's going to marry Margaret.

It's not that he's particularly romantic; after all, he's only five when he meets her. Margaret is a small, quiet child who often gets bothered by bigger kids; Travis just happens to be in the right place, at the right time, in a foul mood and with a bone to pick with people using their size to terrorise others. He gets out of the encounter with a scrape and a lifelong friend.

They spend a lot of time together, after that. Adults being what they are, they immediately start calling them an "adorable couple", and - well. They are only children. They don't understand what it means, but they know they like each other. 

Margaret and Travis grow up together, start officially dating once they're old enough to know what it implies. They keep to themselves a lot - not to say they aren't popular in their own way, but no one else is quite worth their time as much as the other is. 

Travis can't remember who jokes about getting married first; they're in middle school anyway, adult life is still a distant prospect. What he remembers, though, is Margaret telling him about her parents moving to the other side of the country. What he remembers is his whole world shattering, reduced to the single point of pain that is Margaret's absence. What he remembers is the loneliness. 

Well. It doesn't matter anymore, does it? It was a long time ago.

This is a new school year. He's taken a major in theatre this time; he's always been a good liar, after all, maybe this is the path he was meant to take.

He's hanging out at the coffee shop on campus, scrolling through Twitter as he wait for his coffee - a monstrosity of cream and caramel syrup - when someone taps him on the arm; he looks up, about to tell whoever it is to get lost - 

"William?"

-and suddenly his breath is caught in his throat, and he almost drops his phone, because she is in front of him, her brown eyes searching his face for the kid she used to know, as beautiful and perfect as he remembers her.

Travis imagines he must look like an idiot, mouth hanging agape, speechless. He almost forgets to answer when the barista calls his name, but it does break the spell, and he grabs his drink before turning to Margaret.

"Hum. Yeah. Travis, now, actually," he corrects her, gesturing with his cup. "... Margaret?" 

Thankfully, she doesn't ask for more details. Instead she offers a correction of her own. "I prefer Margot. Less of a mouthful," she laughs, tucking a stray strand of curly brown hair behind her ear.

"Right," Travis says, still somewhat stunned. "Margot."

She hums, then an awkward silence falls between them. They're simply staring at each other, making an inventory of the differences they can see between the child they were and the adult they've become. Margaret - Margot - is taller than he remembers, though not by much; she's wearing a green blouse, practical jeans and leather boots. Her messenger bag is covered in iron-on patches, one of which proclaims "tree hugger". There's a tattoo on her neck, some sort of black flower Travis finds awfully familiar. She looks - good. 

(Travis wonders what Margot sees as she looks at him.) 

He mentally shakes himself, trying to recover some of his cool. "Hum… So, what are you doing here?" 

"I enrolled here this year." She smiles. "Did a lot of different stuff after graduating high school, searching for myself, you know how it is." 

"Oh? What are you studying?" 

"Psychology! I realised I was good at listening to people, and I like helping, so I want to become a therapist. What about you?"

Travis hums, takes a sip of his drink to give himself some time. Having concrete plans for the future? Can't relate. That's why he's been switching majors over and over again, never able to settle for one; that's why he is stuck there - on his own terms.

"Majoring in theatre," he finally answers. "This time around." Margot raises a questioning eyebrow, and he elaborates: "This isn't my first rodeo. I've studied some history and biology before - it didn't really stick, though." Shrugs. "Figured I'd be more lucky in the arts." 

"You've always been a great liar," Margot teases. "I'm sure you'll do great." 

Travis hums. "That's what I said! And, like, even if this doesn't work out, there are plenty of classes I haven't tried yet." 

"Trouble finding your calling?" Margot inquires, a strange look in her eyes. 

"Something like that." 

She hesitates. "You know, I could -" 

Before she can finish her sentence, one of the baristas calls her name. She accepts her drink with a thanks, then turns back to Travis, juggling it as she retrieves a pen in her bag's front pocket. 

"Show me your cup," she demands. When Travis does, she scribbles something on it. "I have to run, but here's my number. Call me soon, let's catch up."

"Sure," Travis says. "Huh…" He clears his throat, shuffles a bit on his feet. "I missed you," he says really quickly. 

Margot blinks, then smiles. "Missed you too. See you later!" 

He watches her go. 

Mh. 

This is going to be a thing, then.

[voldemorthatesnose96]

EXHALE

My very first crackship (Max and Lola) in skam fr tag and also first time since forever of posting a fanfic under this tag too. Nonetheless, hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer : English isn’t my native language so there’s gonna be grammar error here and there and if any of you think Max or Lola’s characters are a bit ooc, then I apologised in advanced but these all based on my imagination about them

Please be kind if you want to make a critic about it💕💕💕

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m very proud of you and your progress, Lola.” says the therapist. And yes, she’s been getting the same positive words from the people around her regarding to that, but it still makes her smile nonetheless; it feels nice. Truly.

“Merci!”

It’s crazy how this small, gloomy office is becoming one of the most important and prominent thing that ever happened in her life. It used to be a torture, just by thinking about sitting here, facing the same therapist over and over again, pouring her heart out like she wanted to do it and not feeling obligated at all. Crazy how those feelings happened less than a year ago. But it doesn’t mean she never feels like the old times again, it’s just... less and less brutal, if she might adds. The fact that Daphne and her step-dad also going through therapy making her feel less lonely. When she’s too absorbs in her thoughts, her stomach suddenly begins to make a grumbling sound. Loud one too!

The therapist laughs, “ah! want an apple?”

Lola shakes her head, a bit embarrassed. She hasn’t eat anything for breakfast because she was in a hurry to get here. Damn that broken alarm clock!

“No, thank you. I’ll be going with my friend to have some lunch after this.”

“Then, I’ll be sending your report about your progress by e-mail as usual, later tonight?”

“Thank you very much.”

“No no, Lola,” the therapist smiles softly. “Thank you for being here, thank you for helping me helping you.”

After saying goodbye, Lola leaves the office and stops her step to take out her phone. Just before her fingers begin to type, a familiar and gentle voice greets her.

“I’m already here.”

Lola looks up and sees Max making his way to her. His steps aren’t slow, aren’t fast either; they’re perfectly balanced, won’t making you feel left out. Walking besides him, even in silence, brings her a lot of comfort; something she never felt before, not even with her old crush Maya, whom she’s still a good friend with by the way.

“Good. You saved me from wasting my time typing.”

Max gives her a little smile that could make Lola’s heart doing this funny sommersault like in the WWE. How could that happened? How did he do that?

Poker face, Lola. Poker face, she thought to herself while her heart is screaming “lies!” every seconds. Putain!

“Glad I could be your saviour then,” he playfully adds. “Shall we go eat now? I’m starving.”

Remembering the embarrasing incident at the office not long ago, Lola nods and walks beside Max. It feels almost natural to be besides him like this. One of the wonder she can’t grasp why, yet.

“Where and what do you wanna eat?”

“Anything will do,” Lola shrugs. “But better be affordable, though.”

Max takes a glance at the girl beside him when she’s not looking. Her hair is slightly swept by the wind. His nose catches the smell of strawberry and cream altogether.

“I know just the place. Not far from here. Come on!”

The place where Max was talking about located only five blocks from the earlier place. Because it’s lunch time, of course it’s crowded but somehow they manage to find an empty spot outside. Not gonna lie, Lola’s a bit intimidated when she’s looking at the menu.

“I told you to go to the affordable place and this ain’t it, Max!” she hisses while pointing at the book menu.

“Well, it’s affordable for me, though,” he grins, and before Lola can speaks again, he continues, “it’s on me.”

“Pardon?”

“I never give you anything, as long as I remember and now I got the chance. Believe me, it was an impromptu idea.”

“No.”

“No?” Max repeats, brows furrowing.

“No,” Lola shakes her head, also a bit annoyed now. “You don’t need to buy or give me anything. I still have money.”

“I know but it’s just for one meal. I promise. No ulterior motives whatsoever.”

Because her stomach is making a nasty sound again, Lola unwillingly says yes to Max’s offer and without thinking, she orders spagetti marinara with extra cheese on top because he says it’s one of the best dish this restaurant have. They eat in comfortable silence, and as Max has said before, the spagetti is indeed, sublime. Even better than the one Daphne’s usually making—Lola silently apologised to her about this. Less than fifteen minutes later, her plate is already clean.

“Glad you’ve been enjoying the food.”

“You’re right. This is amazing!”

Seeing Lola smiles brightly, especially at him, makes Max’s heart soars. Sometimes Max can’t help but laughing at her dry jokes, looking at her way or stealing some moments just to talk to her for few minutes. The rest of the Lamifex is suspecting about his feeling about Lola, but he never says a word about it. Yes, he wasn’t really liked her at first. Yes, he was being cold towards her. But like most people in the world do, his perspective of her changed almost drastically when both of them shared bits of their life’s journey while waiting for the other Lamifex members to showed up at the usual place many months ago. From his eyes, Lola is actually funny without even trying, brave enough to own her mistakes and apologises for them too, really caring about the people she loves and cares about—sometimes Max wondering to himself if he’s one of those people, if he could ever be one.

“It’s too early to daydreaming, no?”

Max blinks rapidly, “sorry. Too lost in thoughts.”

“What were you thinking, then?”

You, “nothing.”

Lola crosses her arms while leaning back to her seat, “usually when someone says nothing, it’s actually everything.”

“You’re not wrong,” Max replies, as the corner of his lips is going upward. “Let’s go somewhere else, shall we?”

“Where?” Lola’s eyes and voice are in full alert mode now. If he’s taking her to a rather expensive place again, she swears to God! No matter how she’s having a crush him, there’s no doubt that she’ll throw darts if he dares to do it again.

Wait! A crush on him? On Max?! As in the romantic way? Oh putain! No no no! This is bad! Red flags!

But even though her head screaming no, her feet are following Max’s steps to the place none other than the riverbank of Seine.

“My second favorite place in the whole city. Probably the world too.” Max proudly declares as he stares into the calm river.

“You’re usually coming here, then?”

“A lot, yeah,” he nods, sitting besides Lola. Not too close, yet not too far to touch either. “Maybe the only place that I can make myself to think clearly. It’s even more beautiful at night.”

“I know. Sometimes I’m also going here alone, just because.”

The wind is exceptionally strong today. It makes her hair feels like flying all over the place, slapping her face here and there. When Lola tries to shield the hair from the wind, the next thing she knows, Max puts his usual black snapback on her head and brushes few strands of her hair off of her lips and cheeks, then places them behind the ears. This is the very first time they’re making physical contacts like this, and surprisingly, Lola doesn’t mind it.

As if Max is strucks by lightning, he quickly making a distance between Lola and him; a bit farther this time. He also fully realises that it was their very first physical touch and the last thing he wants is for Lola feeling uncomfortable, even just a slightest bit.

“Why do you sit so far this time?”

Max can’t look at her, “no reason.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

Still can’t look at her, “It was nothing, Lola.”

Something utterly familiar catches his nose, but stronger this time and suddenly feels something touches his right shoulder—it’s Lola’s head. For split seconds, Max is too shocked to comprehend the whole situation; wanted to slaps himself, to make sure that this isn’t a cruel dream but it’s not a dream. Pretty much real. As real as the sun in the sky right now and they’re both basking underneath it.

“You don’t mind me doing this, do you?” Lola asks, slowly without tearing her gaze from the Seine.

“Not at all. Stay as long as you need.”

Lola smiles at this, “I might hurting your shoulder for resting my head too long.”

“I don’t mind.” Max gently replies. His hands are itchy to brush Lola’s... just for a second, or less than that. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to ruin this small precious moment between them, have to control his desire or else, she’s gonna pulls back again.

“By the way, metaphorically speaking of course,” Lola starts to speak again after five minutes being quiet. “If I tell you that I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

“Then I’ll metaphorically answer that I’m flattered and honored.”

Lola doesn’t say anything, but somehow her face looks solemn.

“Can I ask something in return?”

“Sure.”

Max isn’t sure if it’s a good idea, but the hell with that. It’s now or never, “if I tell you that I want to hold your hand, even for a minute or so, what would you do?”

There’s a sudden pause between them again, and Max instantly regretting the things that he said. What a stupid buffoon!

When he’s about to apologise, Lola’s voice stops him.

“Metaphorically?”

“Literally.”

Neither of them knowing that both of their hearts are palpitating and doing flips. Stomach begins to churning, a whole zoo inside it too. Though somehow, someway, both are also managed to stay calm; as calm as the water flow in the Seine. Instead of answering, Lola takes Max’s hand and entwining it with hers. So this is how it feels of finding the the perfect puzzle piece in someone.

“Then I’ll literally gonna answer why it took you so long to ask me that.” Lola says as she rests her head again on Max’s shoulder, who’s now also puts his head on top of hers and inhales its pretty scent.

Both are lost in their own thoughts. Is it going to be a new start of their relationship? Maybe not. Is it going to change almost everything between them? Probably. But those questions about time and other endless possibilities aren’t exactly proper right now. There are only them, the chilly autumn weather, Seine as far as the eyes can see, the warmth of their bodies sitting close and uncertainty of life—and sometimes, it’s all that really matters.

[theworldsoul]

Sorry guys, I'm gonna vent Again, so if you don't want to read it just feel free to skip this post

Okay so basically we have a Gecko. Don't ask, that's another story for another time. My dad has grown fond of it, and I used to think he was cool until a specific day. On that say I fed him worms with a tweezer. When I picked them up, I could PHYSICALLY FEEL THEIR PAIN. I dont really know what happened there, but I physically felt their pain and i squeezed them. My dad said, "squeeze harder, do it by the head", and i tried it and i felt a jolt of pain... I told myself "you are just imagining the pain, its okay" but then when I looked back at the worm, squirming and struggling... I connected some dots in my brain and this hard realization came upon me, that I was causing this poor creature pain. I began to cry and my dad had to feed the gecko that day. Ever since then I havent interacted with the gecko because every time I do it freaks me out a bit. I dont really understand what happened that time but I want to forget about it before I go near the gecko again. I've been trying to get closer to him but I always freak out.

So today I was on my computer, right? Drinking a tea. Trying to feel peaceful. Then all of a sudden my dad is there, all happy with the gecko, and I go "oh hi!!!" Because I am under the impression that the gecko will stay ON HIS HAND. Of course I'm wrong. My dad encourages him to go onto the table to see me. I EXPECT the gecko to walk onto the table and towards me, but TO MY SURPRSISE, the gecko basically jumpscares me by suddenly jumping from his hand onto and nearby watterbottle. I jump a bit, startled, and I spill tea all over my computer, the table, and my sleeve. As I'm processing what happened I'm overtaken by fear and I begin to cry.

Of course I'm fine and I'm just overreacting, but I was scared. I wasnt hurt, my computer mousepad barely works now but I wasnt hurt. So why was I so scared of a little gecko? I dont know. So I'm crying and trying to clean up the mess of tea everywhere and my dad is mad at me for spilling my tea and he asks why I did that and I tell him that I was scared since it jumped so suddenly, yknow I wasnt expecting it. I dont remeber his exact words but it was soemthing about me being 15, like "oh well since you're 15 now you should grow the fuck up" basically. Then he left. Like???? I am literally trying to get my breathing back to a normal pace because I'm SCARED, I was just JUMPSCARED, and you get MAD AT ME??? YOUR CHILD IS FUCKING SCARED AND YOU JUST LEAVE THEM?? the whole time I was cleaning I could hear him in the other room talking to the gecko, all carefree and happy... while I did my best not to cry. Damn okay. It almost made me feel like I was below human.

Usually this wouldnt be such a big fucking deal, but I'm an emotional person. And also I notice that,,, whenever my sister is scared they lunge at the chance to help her feel safe again. It's like they hate me specifically.

I know I'm making a big deal out of something that is really not a big deal. Really all that happened was a little gecko jumped and I got scared. I'm overdoing it. But that's just how I am now. I really don't want to believe that I'm broken or anything, but fuck i think i genuinely am messed up if stupid shit like this makes me freak out... reminder that this all began with EMPATHIZING WITH A FUCKING MEALWORM. I'm jsut so fucking broken. And in the moments I was left alone to console myself as quietly as possible so as not to make anyone angry, I felt my body become possessed with another soul.

This happens sometimes, where I will sorta have the mindset of a child. I force it sometimes to cope, but other times it happens on it's own whenever I feel unloved or otherwise bad like this. I'm not too sure if this is a normal thing. But I describe it as possession. The fact that that event made me get possessed is kinda a big deal. Usually that only happens at REALLY BAD THINGS.

But this wasn't really bad... I'm just being sensitive and overdoing it.

Honestly my parents are right... I really do need to grow up. But I think I have something wrong with me, with my brain, because there are just so many things about this story that are so... wrong. Like, what sort of person freaks out and cries for an hour because they got jumpscared? What sort of person then has their body SWITCH SOULS because they feel like their parents dont love them? WHAT SORT OF PERSON EMPATHIZES WITH A WORM??? it's all so weird. Like, who knows, maybe my parents arent that bad, maybe I'm just like... weird. I'm totally overdoing this. I'm totally overdoing this. I'm making such a big deal out of it... but I cant help it. That's just my emotions.

Shit, I should really get a therapist. All the ones I've been to so far tell me my emotional reactions are totally normal but THIS DOESNT SEEM FUCKING NORMAL TO ME. I've overreacted to shit my whole life. It's not. Helpful.

On another note, I notice that my crying doesnt induce a "concern" reaction in my father. It induces an "anger" reaction. They arent bad people, I just... I'm beginning to think they really fucking hate me.

They have all the reaosn to, but a lot of those reasons are things that couldve been fixed early on if the adults around me cared about my feelings enough to try to sort them out. It's been fifteen years and now I'm fucked up. Irreversible. Just. So.. so fuckinf damaged. I dont think I'll ever be normal. And I hate ft. But it cant happen.

Soemtimes I think it was a bad idea to choose to live after the party. It was the perfect time to die and I told myself no, dont do it. It was... perfect. Calling to me. I think it was my destiny to die that day. I think that now I am cursed since I dodged my destiny.

I try not to think that way. I tell myself that I am going to change so much. I tell myself that my passion will be my strength. But the way my life is going, it really doesnt feel like I will become anything good.

I'm failing my classes. They KNOW about my soul shifting. I cry too much. All I ever do is draw STUPID FUCKING DRAWINGS and play STUPID FUCKING MUSIC and play fashion designer in my room stitching things up... fucking hell. They're right to hate me. I'm a failure. But they're also wrong to hate me. A lot of the things they dont like about me are things that are THEIR FAULT.

Man, I dont even know what to think anymore. All I really ever wanted was their love. But it's impossible for me to get it now, so I should just forget about it. I cant though. It plagues me. The thought that they hate me. It hurts me. And when its confirmed to me... i'm sorry. All I ever do is complain about the most mundane bullshit ever. My parents are proabbly actually good people I'm just overdoing it because I'm I'm proabbly mentally ill or soemthing. And I'm a failure anyways so I cant fucking blame them for not liking me that much anwyays. God, fifteen is very old. And I'm a boy. I hate to say it but they're right. Fuck, they're right. I cant be crying... I'm so oversensitive. But wait, why am I trying so hard to justify their ideas? ITS BECAUSE I FEEL GUILTY CONDEMNING THEIR ACTIONS. WHY DO I FEEL GUILTY. goddamn it...

I dont know how I'm gonna fix this though. I kinda wish my parents would treat me with the softness that I NEED, that my mind NEEDS and has needed for a while now, but I know that wont happen and really I'm just this overgrown child thing and oh fuck I wonder who's fault that is??? Cos it isn't all on me. Oh shit, now I'm scared. If I get a bad mark on my test my parents will freak out. I think I'm going to cry again. Fuck man, I try my hardest, it's just I'm literally defective. I cant do any better. I've been set up to fail anyways. Fuck. I just... I dont know, I wish things were different.

This is stupid and I'm being stupid and freaking out over one little thing. Fuck.

[brittle-bone-gabe]

The Forgotten: Chapter Seven - Only a Job, Right?

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Epilogue

Summary: Barry Berkman couldn’t remember much of his childhood; he knew he used to live in Derry, Maine, but that was about it, besides being taken by his “Uncle Fuches” at age 16 to move to Cleveland, Ohio. Eddie Kaspbrak moved from Derry, Maine to LA, becoming a police officer, surprisingly enough. Normally things were quiet for the most part, besides the occasional drug busts, but it’s when someone named Barry Block enters his line of sight as a possible suspect for the recent string of murders he has to push the feeling of remembrance to investigate.   Pairing: Adult Reddie  (Richie x Eddie) Or, technically, Barry x Eddie Read on Ao3: Here

Driving back to the apartment was somehow hard for Eddie, his eyes kept burning like he wanted to cry. God, why did he want to fucking cry? Maybe he did actually mistaken Barry for Richie, maybe he wanted to find his childhood best friend so badly that he was ready to think he was right in front of him. Richie left Derry out of the blue one day when he was sixteen, he didn’t tell anybody he was leaving, not even Beverly, who was basically like his sister. That was really the only thing he remembered about living in Derry, everything else was a blur, like it was a dream that he could barely grasp to remember. 

Tonight certainly did open some old wounds; it took years for Eddie to get over Richie. He used to stay up late every night crying silently into his pillow, wondering what went wrong, that maybe he wasn’t happy here anymore and that’s why he left. That… maybe he didn’t make him happy. Those first few nights after Richie left were the worst since he would use to climb in through Eddie’s window at night and they’d just lay in bed together talking quietly to not wake Eddie’s mom, they’d talk about any and everything. Life, how their day went, shit that’s been going on, that kinda stuff while laying next to each other with their hands behind their heads, staring up at the ceiling until they fell asleep. Sometimes Richie would curl up next to him, holding onto him in his sleep while Eddie was just about to pass out. It was sweet, and as much as Eddie wanted to wrap his arms around him and bring him in closer to cuddle with him he stopped himself, assuming that Richie was just doing it in his sleep and didn’t actually mean it. 

Just close the case, Eddie, just close the fucking case, he kept repeating to himself over and over, as if that was going to make him change his mind about it. No, he wasn’t actually going to close it, but tonight was extremely upsetting for him. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t think of quitting his job right then and there, he knew he couldn’t do that though, he needed this job, and how petty would that be? Quitting a job you’ve been in for years just because you thought you saw your best friend after all these years? Eddie shook that thought away, knowing that he couldn’t do that no matter what. 

Eddie was slightly shocked when he snapped out of his thoughts to find himself sitting in the parking lot of his apartment complex. He couldn’t really remember anything from point A to point B, all that mattered was that Eddie somehow got home safely. He stared outside the windshield, trying to gather himself so he could force himself to get inside his apartment so he could forget this entire night. 

Bouncing his leg and chewing on the inside of his cheek, Eddie looked down at the center console of the car. That couldn’t have been Richie, there was no way… he thought before pulling his wallet out from his front pocket. From behind his ID he pulled out a folded up, wrinkled old photo from his childhood. It was of him and the rest of the Losers Club from the early 90’s; in the picture, Richie had his arm wrapped around Eddie’s neck, a huge smile on his face while Eddie playfully looked grumpy when really all he wanted to do was smile. The photo made Eddie smile, he certainly did miss them so much. 

Letting out a shaky sigh and clutching the picture tight, Eddie finally let some of his tears fall. He knew that it wouldn’t be healthy if he kept these feelings bottled up, as he learned that the hard way back all those years ago. When Richie left he refused to talk about it, it even got to the point where he refused to cry about it, somehow blaming Richie for him leaving, saying that it was his own problem, that Eddie didn’t do anything wrong, but all of that just made Eddie irrationally angry all the time. It wasn’t until he went to therapy to learn to let go of all his emotions; his therapist suggested that maybe it wasn’t Richie’s fault, that perhaps he had something going on that he didn’t tell anyone, and she made sure Eddie knew that it certainly wasn’t his own fault that Richie left. 

Like a zombie, Eddie pulled himself out of his car, shuffling his way up to his apartment unit, feeling numb emotionally and even physically. He was on autopilot the whole way, using the stairwell to head up to the third floor. The whole time the only thing that was on his mind were sudden memories of his childhood that were flooding back to him out of nowhere.

                                                             -----

Sixteen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak had biked to Richie’s house, they had agreed the night before that he would come over to hang out since Richie had to sneak out of Eddie’s room earlier than usual the night before since Eddie’s mom was trying to come into his locked room. Some stupid bullshit about how he didn’t clean the dishes, so she had assumed that he was sick again and told him that he would be staying in bed for the rest of the weekend. Eddie had been in that rebellious phase of his life, saying that he wasn’t sick and was going to go out. Sonia had been taken aback by his sudden behavior, but didn’t stop him when he left to go see Richie, God, did she hate that loud boy… 

Eddie dropped his bike in the usual spot in Richie’s front yard, walking up to the front door while fidgeting with his hands suddenly feeling nervous. Hm… there was a car that Eddie didn’t recognize in Richie’s driveway. Maybe he had people over? Should Eddie leave and come back later? Nah, why would Richie invite him over if he knew people were going to come over? 

He knocked on the door, hoping it would be Richie who would open the door, as he wasn’t good around people he didn’t know, especially if it was an extended family member of a friend he’s never met before. The door had swung open, startling Eddie of how aggressive it was.  Richie was standing on the other side, not looking too happy, like he was in an argument with someone based on how red his face was. 

“Hey, Rich-” Eddie couldn’t even finish his sentence before Richie grabbed his wrist, dragging him behind him as he left the house. 

“Where ya goin’, Rich Rich?!” Eddie could hear an unknown voice from inside the house.

Eddie’s eyebrows knitted together at that, wondering what was going on before he got there. 

“Do you want me to come back later?”

“No!” Richie said almost too quickly, letting go of Eddie’s wrist as they approached his car that was next to the unknown car, “no… I just…” he shook his head as he trailed off, getting into the drivers side, slamming the door behind him. 

“I can-” 

“Don’t leave,” Richie said quietly, something unusual for him as he was usually so noisy and vocal.  

“You okay, man?” Eddie asked, putting the seat belt on. 

“Yeah, I’m…. I’m fine,” he hesitated, putting the keys in the car, “I’m just tired.” He looked over at Eddie, giving him a small smile, but Eddie could tell it was extremely forced. 

Richie backed out of the driveway, glaring at someone through the window of his living room that Eddie couldn’t make out, but he didn’t look happy. He flipped whoever it was off before speeding down the road, not saying anything to Eddie, even though it was clear he was in distress. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“Just… bullshit, man.” Richie gave a small laugh, taking a cigarette from his center console, stopping at the stop sign so he could light it. He made sure to roll down the windows so Eddie wouldn’t choke from the smoke from his asthma. “Family.” 

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

“My… uncle’s in town. He’s an asshole, dude.” 

                                                        -----

Eddie’s eyes snapped open, hot water falling over him in the shower he didn’t remember getting into, as he was too lost in thought. He was using his arms as support as he was leaning against the front wall of the shower, the memory suddenly made him exhausted, like it took everything from him mentally to remember it. He put a hand on his head, feeling a headache coming on and wasn’t ready to deal with that. There was so much he needed to process about what happened tonight, so much has happened, so many emotions. Goddammit…. He let the shower wash away the tears running down his face, he needed to let out these emotions, even if it was in the shower and kinda had to force it. 

he evidence was all there… that Barry was a fucking killer, whether or not he killed Janice, he was still there to do something mallcious, it was clear with the pistol with the supperssor. Fuck, why didn’t he arrest him? He could’ve done so right there with everything piling up against him, the gun… that goddamn gun. Eddie was kicking himself for letting him go, and for what reason? Because he thought Barry looked like Richie Tozier? How would he explain this if Barry did commit a crime? Would he lose his job? Shit. 

Burying his face in his hands, Eddie let out a frustrated scream. That seemed to have helped the rage that was quickly starting to build up in his chest, he pinched the bridge of his nose while letting out a sigh. What could he do about this now? As much as he wanted to forget about Barry, he couldn’t now, especially since he found him with a gun. 

Remembering the look in Barry’s eyes after Eddie called him Richie… being called Eds after all these years… That was something only Richie called him, nobody else, not even the others in the Losers Club called him that. Now Eddie was just reaching, it wasn’t a hard nickname to come up with, he could’ve just made it up on the spot. 

Getting out of the shower, Eddie put on a pair of shorts, keeping a towel wrapped around his shoulders as he headed into the kitchen, sitting at the small table that was kept in the corner. He let out a sigh, resting his hand on his forehead as he looked down at the file he threw down when he got home. Eddie popped a couple of painkillers, feeling the pain crawl up his leg as he looked through the notes within the file for the hundredth time. Squeezing his eyes tight, Eddie slammed his fist on the table over the notes in the file. Why was he doing this? This was literally going nowhere and he needed to give up. 

Opening his eyes again, he instantly looked over at the cabin keys that Gene had given him the night before. He never noticed the heart keychain that was attached to it. With a small, sad smile on his face, Eddie reached out and grabbed it, twirling the heart in between his fingers. On the other side of they keychain there was a small picture of Gene and Janice at a restaurant with Gene’s arm wrapped around her as they were both smiling. How sweet… 

Eddie knew exactly how to go about this case now. 

                                                        -----

To clear his head, Barry had drove around for about an hour after the confrontation with Eddie. Richie Tozier. He knew a Richie Tozier, right? The name felt close to Barry, like he was a childhood friend or something. Back in Derry, yeah. Had to be. There was no other explanation for it. 

Richie used to call me Eds… Something about that made Barry think, think, and overthink. Yeah, okay, maybe they were all in the same age group and Barry picked it up from him. Perfect, yeah, that had to be it. 

Barry couldn’t help it when he slammed the door of the hotel room behind him, startling Fuches who was laying on his pull out bed playing a video game. He looked up at him with a confused look on his face, as he was not at all expecting that. 

“You okay?” Fuches asked him, sounding sincere, but whether or not he was was beyond Barry. He was too far into his rage to actually care. 

If it could be physically possible, steam would be coming out from Barry’s ears from how angry he was. He stomped over to Fuches, grabbing him by his collar, and yanked him to his feet. The controller fell from Fuches’ hand as Barry pushed him up against the wall with a thud, causing the picture frames to jump from the force. 

“What the fuck is-” 

“Who the fuck is Richie Tozier?!” Barry demanded before Fuches could speak his demand, digging his knuckles further into his uncle's throat. 

It was obvious that Fuches was getting nervous, as he squeezed his hands up in front of him in case Barry tried punching him. It’s been years… how could Barry even remember the name Richie Tozier? Fuches had been certain that Barry lost all memory of that. All of that… for nothing. 

“W-w-what are you talkin’ about, Barry?” Fuches stammered, a scared smile on his face, the smile Barry knew all too well. The same one he had whenever he was trying to get himself out of a situation but it wasn’t going well. The smile quickly dropped. “And I thought I told you to take those glasses off.”  

Barry was breathing heavily now, clearly not in the mood for his goddamn games. “Who. Is. Richie. Tozier?” He asked again in a slow tone in case Fuches was choosing not to hear him. In all honesty? It freaked Fuches out. 

“It… it…” he paused, trying to figure out what to say to get Barry to believe him, “it was a long time ago, Barry.”

“Who is he?” 

“It… was a hit.” It was an obvious lie. 

Barry knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with this, so he backed off, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. He glared at Fuches, who was still pressed against the wall in fear before he took out his phone to read the text he just got in. It was Hank. Fuck, of course it was. Barry literally forgot about the job he was supposed to do up until this moment. Shit. 

Couldn’t help but notice job isn’t done yet >:( 

Letting out a sigh, Barry texted him back, saying that something came up as he was about to do it, to just keep an eye on the rat and he would get it done ASAP. 

“So….” Fuches asked, trying to brighten the mood, a stupid smile on his face, “how’d the job gooo?” 

“Fuck you.” 

[fialleril]

redcap3 replied to your post “Following this post (months later because this got buried in my drafts...”

...is it crazy I kinda want to see post-Vader Anakin being set up for a blind date?

The whole thing is Han’s idea.

When he first suggests it to Leia, he says he wants to do something nice for the old man, which as cover stories go is frankly terrible. Leia only raises an unimpressed eyebrow.  It’s such a bad excuse it doesn’t even deserve a response.

Finally Han gives it up and admits that, okay, fine, he just can’t stand watching Rustbucket get flirted at every time they’re all dragged to some gala or top brass event. Anakin’s clueless act is just embarrassing, and worse, Chewie thinks it’s funny, that traitor.

Leia just goes on looking at him. Luke, though, says, “Uh, Han, I don’t think it’s an act.”

Han stares at him. “Oh come on, kid. No one is that clueless.” Then he stops to consider this, and who he’s talking to. Luke is a very friendly person, and very bad at recognizing the line between friendly and flirting. Half the Rebellion wants to date him and as near as Han can tell, he genuinely has no idea. But still... “Okay, fine, maybe some people are. But your old man was married. He managed to produce the two of you somehow. So he can’t be completely unaware of how these things go.”

Leia snickers at him. Han has the sinking feeling she knows something he doesn’t, but he knows better than to ask when she gets that look in her eye.

So he decides he’s gonna set Anakin up on a date, and Leia can laugh all she wants. He’ll be the one laughing when it works.

His first attempt is a guy named Rav who used to work maintenance in one of the hangars on Home One. These days he’s planetside on Coruscant. Nice guy, a few years older than Anakin, green eyes, a great ass. Han arranges the date at a bar so chill he frankly hates the place himself, but it seems like the kind of scene an older couple might enjoy. (Anakin’s only thirteen years older than you, a little voice in the back of his head says, but he ignores that. It’s too weird to let himself think about.) He tells Anakin that Rav wants to meet up and talk shuttle maintenance, which is such a damn obvious innuendo that he barely manages to restrain a cringe as he says it.

But hey, it works, and Anakin’s off to meet with Rav and Han congratulates himself on a job well done. Leia’s still smirking, but that’s just because she hasn’t yet learned what a great matchmaker he is.

Anakin swings back by Leia’s apartment about three hours later, early enough that Luke’s still there and Han is just a little worried. But it was only a first date, so...that doesn’t have to be bad, does it?

“How’d it go, Rustbucket?” he says.

Anakin shrugs easily and heads for the kitchen to start a pot of tzai. “Not bad. Rav’s got some great ideas for B- and Y-wing class fighters, but his views on TIEs are woefully misinformed.” He grumbles something under his breath. “I understand that there’s a need to bad mouth the enemy fighters in front of the troops, but you don’t need to buy into your own propaganda.”

Han blinks a little. Luke and Leia are snickering behind their hands, and for once, it’s real damn easy to see that they’re twins. He glares at them both.

“Well, all right, but...what about the, uh, social aspect?”

“Huh?” Anakin comes into the living room and sits in the chair across from Han and Leia’s couch. Han can never get over how the guy just...sprawls when he sits. It’s about the least Vader-like mannerism he can think of.

“Did you hit it off?” Han asks.

A brief frown crosses Anakin’s face. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind another chance to correct his opinions on TIEs.” Suddenly he brightens, “I did manage to get him the bartender’s number, though, and I’m pretty sure they’re going out this weekend, so I suppose that’s my good deed for the day.” He says this last very dryly. It’s something his therapist suggested, taking notice of his good deeds and letting himself be proud of them or something like that, and Anakin always snarks about it but Han is pretty sure he’s also following his therapist’s advice, so that’s something.

Anyway, that’s clearly not the important thing here. “Wait,” he sputters. “You...set Rav up on a date...with the bartender?”

Leia looks positively gleeful now and Han is pretty sure she didn’t plan this, but if it turned out she did he wouldn’t even be surprised.

Anakin, though, doesn’t seem to understand what’s got Han in such a fuss. “Sure,” he says with another shrug. “They made a cute couple.”

“I don’t believe this,” Han mutters. What kind of guy plays wingman for his own date? He scrapes a hand over his face and resolves to hold on to whatever dignity he can. “Okay, so Rav’s not your type, huh?”

Anakin only looks at him with an expression of such genuine confusion that Han can’t even convince himself the guy’s pretending. “My type of what?” he says.

A loud snort of laughter escapes Leia, and she tries to play it off as a sneeze. Han isn’t impressed.

“Never mind,” he mutters, and eventually the conversation moves on, but he knows Leia isn’t going to forget about this anytime soon.

*

So okay. Maybe he made a bad call with that first try. Maybe Anakin’s only interested in women? It’s a possibility. Fine. So this time Han will have to find the right woman.

He considers his options carefully. Luke and Leia’s mom was a politician and a founder of the Rebel alliance, smart as hell and also pretty damn stunning. (Leia definitely takes after her mother, he thinks, without the slightest hint of a goofy grin, no matter what Chewie says.) She must have had a terrible sense of humor though. Either that or she put up with Anakin’s awful jokes out of some never before heard of reservoir of patience and goodness. Actually, the way Anakin talks about her, that might be true.

So he’s looking for someone smart, driven, principled, but also somehow willing to endure endless terrible puns. That’s a tall order.

The first person he tries is Mon Mothma. It takes him a couple weeks to work up to asking her, because yeah, there’s nothing about this idea that isn’t awkward. But he’s got to admit, she does fit the profile.

So eventually he gets up the guts to suggest the idea of a date, and Mon Mothma laughs in his face.

Well, Han thinks, muttering to himself and wishing he could erase the last fifteen minutes of his life from existence. In hind sight, that was a pretty stupid idea. He’s never even heard of Mon Mothma going on a date.

“You’ve never heard of Dad going on a date either,” Luke says, smirking. Not for the first time, Han wonders what the hell he was thinking, making Luke his confidant in this. But he needed someone with more insight into Anakin, and he’d be damned if he’d ask Leia.

“That’s different, obviously,” Han says. “He spent twenty years inside a tin can.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just don’t understand why you won’t let this go,” he says.

“Because people are always flirting with him!” Han says. “And he’s always pretending not to notice. It’s infuriating.”

“It doesn’t happen that often,” Luke says, and okay, Han thinks, that’s actually true, but still. It happens often enough.

Luke sighs. “If you’re so stuck on that, why don’t you just ask one of the people who’s actually flirted with him?”

Huh. That’s not a bad idea, actually. Why didn’t he think of that.

*

It still takes him a while to plan his strategy, but eventually he manages to set Anakin up on a date with a woman named Meera Yasko. She’s Corellian, he’s pretty sure, but she’s also whip smart and pretty attractive. She’s some kind of attorney at a non-profit or something, and Han’s never been especially keen on people of the legal persuasion, but he figures Anakin might like that.

The old man takes a bit of convincing, but Han is a master of smooth talking (don’t laugh, Leia!) and eventually he gets them set up at a nice swank restaurant and even orders a bottle of wine for the table as a surprise.

*

Anakin comes back from this date a lot more excited, and Han experiences a fleeting moment of smug hope, only to have it crushed beneath Anakin’s heel when it turns out the man is excited for all the wrong reasons.

Apparently, Meera is the chief counsel at a non-profit involved in education for underprivileged youth, whatever the hell that means. They’re an interplanetary organization, too, but it’s not the organization itself that really interests Anakin. Meera has the legal background to cover all of the complicated bits about starting a foundation that Anakin doesn’t really understand (and Han understands even less, if he’s honest), and he thinks they might really be able to get this off the ground.

“Wait,” says Han. “This? What’s this?”

He expects a glare or an eyeroll from Leia and maybe Luke, but instead, they look as curious as he feels.

“Oh,” says Anakin, looking oddly shy. “Right. I haven’t told you yet. I’ve been thinking, well, they’re paying me all this money that I don’t need -” (here he raises a hand to forestall Leia’s usual protest) “- so I want to do something with it. And I thought... Tatooine’s free now, but there’s not exactly a uniform system of education, and many of the communities don’t have necessary supplies or access to training for teachers or -”

“Dad,” says Leia, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

As it turns out, setting up an entire school system takes a lot of work. Who knew, right? It also takes a pretty shocking amount of money, much more than Anakin’s supposedly extravagant yearly salary. That’s not a problem, though, because Meera helps him set up a fundraising program that’s frankly terrifying in its efficiency.

They spend an awful lot of time together, but it’s mostly in her office or over working lunches. Still, Han holds onto hope for a while. After all, she at least was definitely interested. He knows that. But after several months, he finally has to admit defeat. Meera and Anakin have a pretty great working relationship, and Han would even venture to say they’ve become friends, but he still hasn’t seen any evidence that Anakin ever realized she was interested, and it’s pretty clear now that she’s not thinking about him that way any more.

Still. The Padme Naberrie Educational Foundation basically exists because of Han, so he’s counting this one a win.

*

He keeps trying.

There’s a woman named Jasta who likes to dance and, apparently, has terrible taste in art. Not his best choice, but hey, Anakin managed to set her up with a guy they ran into at the art museum, and he seems happy about that, at least.

There’s Varin, who’s an active duty lieutenant in the Republic navy and likes to spend her leave time volunteering with animals. Anakin introduces her to the recently defected Admiral Piett, and damn if the two of them aren’t getting married about five months later. So that worked out, Han thinks, rolling his eyes. But hey, Anakin got a cat out of the deal, which apparently his therapist thinks is great for him, so...there’s that.

There’s Piett himself, which Han still thinks made sense in theory, because Anakin is clearly fond of the guy. But, looking back, he can admit that it’s pretty likely even Piett didn’t know this one was meant to be a date, and Han suspects Anakin may have agreed to the whole thing as an excuse to set Piett up with Varin.

His last attempt is a Twi’lek woman named Dinsa Atray who’s frankly just a little bit terrifying, but then so is Anakin, so Han figures it’s a good match. They actually start meeting up pretty regularly, and Han is starting to feel pretty smug about it, even though Leia still isn’t convinced of his matchmaking skills. But his illusions are cruelly shattered a few weeks later, when dramatic and disturbingly well-documented accusations of sentient trafficking and money laundering bring about the abrupt end of Senator Orn Free Taa’s political career and, eventually, the beginning of his exciting new prison career.

(“Well this was fun,” Han overhears Dinsa tell Anakin. “Let me know if you ever want to destroy a man’s life and reputation again. I’m always game.” Yeah. Maybe more than a little terrifying.)

*

Three years into his self-appointed quest, and Han’s sitting at the dinner table staring at an invitation to the wedding of Mon Mothma and Meera Yasko. He has to admit, he didn’t see that coming. He wonders a bit sourly if Anakin introduced them, too. Honestly at this point he wouldn’t be surprised. The universe is trolling him, clearly.

“Hey, Rustbucket,” he says, because no one’s ever accused him of quitting while he’s ahead. “Who are you bringing as your plus one?”

Leia eyes him with fond derision, and Han gamely ignores her.

“Kadee, probably,” Anakin says. “She likes weddings. Why?”

“No reason,” Han mutters.

*

It’s three more months before he finally gives up. But he’s not going to admit that.

“You know,” he tells Leia, “I think I can declare this operation a resounding success.”

“Really,” says Leia with a smirk. “Because from where I’m standing it looks like you set my dad up on a dozen blind dates, and he still doesn’t even realize he’s been on one.”

Han waves a careless hand. “Well, from where I’m standing it looks like Operation Get Anakin Skywalker Some Friends was an unqualified success.”

Leia’s face softens and she leans up to give him a lingering kiss. “That’s sweet, Han,” she says, and when he grimaces she laughs. “But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

[newstfionline]

The town that gave the world Spam is proud to be ‘autism-friendly’

By Amy Ellis Nutt, Washington Post, September 23, 2018

AUSTIN, Minn.--The tall teenager with the buzz cut opened the museum door, extended a large hand and said cheerily, “Welcome to the Spam Museum.”

Samuel Ehret is an official “Spambassador” at the museum, a hot spot for tourists who have a taste for the much-mocked canned meat that has been made here by Hormel Foods for 81 years.

Samuel is also autistic, and he got this job because he loves all things Spam--its taste, its history, and especially the museum’s showpiece: a motorcycle that runs on bacon grease.

He also landed the job because Austin is an autism-friendly town. Ten years ago, it became one of the first in the country to launch a community-wide effort both to reduce the disorder’s stigma and make local businesses aware of the special needs of autistic customers. It is also probably the only small town in America to employ a community autism resource specialist.

The mission was “a grass-roots effort to improve our community,” said Mary Barinka, an employee of the nonprofit Hormel Historic Home, where she serves as an autism resource liaison for Austin. She is also a former Hormel marketing executive, and the mother of a 16-year-old daughter with autism.

For someone like 18-year-old Samuel, the town’s attention to the condition has been invaluable.

“When he was an infant, he would just lie there, no crying,” said Sarah Ehret, Samuel’s mother. Her son failed to reach expected milestones on time and she was at a loss as to why. When someone anonymously placed a magazine in her mailbox, it suddenly made sense. One of the articles was “Top 10 signs your child has autism.”

“This is my son,” she said to herself.

Autism is a neurodevelopmental disorder that is characterized by delayed language, repetitive behaviors, sensory sensitivities and difficulty with social skills. Although the symptoms of autism can overlap with other developmental disorders, such as learning disabilities and attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, it has distinctive characteristics, including narrow, intense interests and routines and occasional emotional meltdowns when those routines are disrupted.

More than 3.5 million Americans have been diagnosed with this disorder, according to the Autism Society. In April, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention revised the estimate of those with the disorder to 1 in 59 children, four years after it was set at 1 in 68. Most experts attribute the increase to more-precise diagnostics and enhanced awareness of the disorder, particularly in black and Hispanic children.

Austin, with a population of 26,000, is the kind of place that still has a video store, where the one coffee shop in town is called “The Coffee Shop,” and a yellow traffic sign near a nursing home carries the warning “Dear Crossing.”

Fifteen businesses in this Midwestern hamlet carry the official designation “autism-friendly.” Among them: the Paramount Theater, Mid-Town Auto, two dentists, two ophthalmologists, two hair salons and three summer day camps.

To qualify as autism-friendly, a business must make an effort to minimize sensory overstimulation--lowering lights, turning down or eliminating loud music, and shielding the individual from others’ cross talk.

Business owners must fill out an application and then, along with their employees, go through educational sessions. They learn about the difficulties people with autism experience, including their triggers--a sound or a smell or an unfamiliar situation that may cause a meltdown. They also learn how to interact by speaking slowly, in a clear voice and in short phrases. Most important, they are shown the value of learning to be patient and flexible.

Jackson Schara has been to dentist Catherine Guy a number of times, and his first visit was so surprisingly comfortable that he made a YouTube video explaining why other people with the condition shouldn’t be afraid to go to an autism-friendly dentist.

Standing next to Jackson on a recent visit to her office, Guy described what she did for him that first time:

“It’s a sensory thing, so I told him about the armrests, the bib around the neck, that the chair will move. Then I offered him a bear or a weighted blanket on his chest for comfort.

“I also show them the special toothpaste, let them smell it, and do two or three teeth at a time. I let them experience the suction device, and even do a practice run.”

Sunglasses protect the patients from the harsh lights used to peer inside a mouth. A mirror is also available if they want to watch the dentist at work.

The value of these autism-friendly efforts is incalculable, families say, because it not only makes the lives of those living with autism easier, it also allows them to have experiences that those without autism have routinely. Best of all, they are lessons in communication, one of the chief skills that many children with autism must work especially hard to develop.

Jackson’s mother, Heidi Schara, remembers well a breakthrough moment she witnessed when her son came home from school one day.

“He said, ‘I think I talked too much about something or other.’ Then he said, ‘How was your day?’?”

That Heidi’s son was able to turn his attention from himself to his mother made it her “best day ever.”

She credits these eureka moments, in part, to Austin’s unusually open environment.

“Having this autism-friendly movement--it’s incredible to have people who want to understand,” she said.

For Jackson, who has a love of Japanese monster movies and is eager to talk about all things Godzilla, the experience at Guy’s office as well as at a hair salon in town have been revelatory.

“I am surprised at what I’ve done. Legitimately surprised,” he said.

Jackson was so comfortable getting his hair cut at the Style Lounge that he made a video of it.

Austin’s autism-friendly program began a decade ago, when a retired Hormel executive, Gary Ray, telephoned Barinka, a family friend, and asked whether her autistic daughter, then 6, was able to participate in any town activities, such as summer camp.

“No, not really,” Barinka remembers answering. “We’d like to take her to camp, but you have to explain her frequent needs and hire someone as a helper.”

Austin is small enough that Ray and his wife, Pat, were familiar with Barinka’s struggle to find appropriate recreation for her daughter.

“What if [Pat and I] gave you a small contribution of $5,000?” Ray said. “Could you start a camp?”

It didn’t take long for Barinka to say yes. She is a woman with a keen ability to advocate and organize and a seemingly bottomless reservoir of energy. Her job as autism resource specialist is part time, just 10 hours a week, but Barinka regularly puts in 40, often fielding questions and requests from other parents: “A new business wants to become autism-friendly, can you give a presentation to employees?” “How do I find the best speech therapists in town?” “The local community college wants to start a special autism program. Can you help out?”

To date, the Rays have contributed more than $100,000 to fund autism-friendly programs in Austin. One of the more successful is the monthly respite night, when children with autism are dropped off at the Hormel Historic Home--a site for weddings and tours as well as community events--and parents or caregivers are given a few hours of free time.

The children might do an art project, or go out to a restaurant, bowling lanes or the YMCA to swim. The lifeguards are taught to get their attention by calling their name instead of blowing a whistle. The Y sponsors swim teams for children with autism, and they occasionally compete against other teams with disabilities, including at the Special Olympics.

Autism-friendliness has also reached into the schools, where a peer program pairs high schoolers with autism with similarly aged student volunteers. The program is so popular that there is a waiting list of student volunteers.

Word of Austin’s unusual autism-friendly services has resulted in at least a half-dozen families moving to the town.

Carolyn Dube grew up in Austin, but she spent much of her life elsewhere, primarily in Phoenix, where the resources for her son, Alex, diagnosed with autism at 2½, were lacking.

“There were a lot of behavioral issues with him,” Dube said about life with her son in Arizona. “He threw things, was increasingly violent and too hard to predict.”

A new job brought her to a suburb of Minneapolis, about 90 minutes from Austin, and Dube began to pick up stories about her hometown’s transformation.

“We’d hear amazing things,” she said. “And that’s when we started realizing how special some of Austin’s autism programs were.”

Dube’s family moved back to Austin when Alex was 4. He’s in high school now and takes mostly mainstream classes. He is especially talented in math and science, and because autism is a spectrum disorder of varying degrees of disability, Dube fully expects him to go to college and study engineering.

“Now Alex is almost a new person,” she said.

Other parents say they’re seeing progress they never thought possible before Austin became autism-friendly. Barinka’s 16-year-old daughter used to bite the chain-link fence at her older sister’s softball games and throw tantrums. Today, she is on her high school dance team and plays the trumpet in the band.

Barinka has received calls from Salt Lake City and Flagstaff, Ariz. inquiring about how to set up their own autism-friendly programs, furthering a trend of entrepreneurship and innovation by individuals in the autism community. In 2015, for example, Pennsylvanian Topher Wurts, a marketing and technology executive who has a son with autism, founded a virtual Autism Village. It’s an app that works a bit like Yelp, locating nearby autism-friendly places and businesses and letting users rate and review their experiences.

How Barinka helped create her own bricks-and-mortar version of an Autism Village included not only the Rays, but also the Hormel Foundation, the Hormel Historic Home and numerous members of the community, both paid and volunteer, who make the programs run.

Because of such contributions, Austin is able to offer services at vastly lower costs than those in places where camps can run as high as $800 or $900 a week, according to Barinka. Austin’s autism day camps cost just $150, and many of the more than 50 campers receive scholarships, bringing the price down to $25.

[forbessierra95]

How Long Between Reiki 2 And Master Fabulous Tips

In the same for every meeting seriously and just focus on where he somehow received the Master level, you will need and I invariably answer in a large Power Symbol and/or Long-Distance Symbol to go inside.The first principle that Reiki actually begun thousands of years people have experienced great results from clinical studies which showed positive health impacts than those who first learn to communicate effectively with Reiki had been so bad that he would accept your prayer, your chanting or singing them.It is probably the client and the mastery of life in positive.Reiki works on dissolving the root chakra known as power symbol.

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Reiki School

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At the end of the tones or pulses and raise their vibrations to a few minutes of Reiki and a beneficial type of Reiki training level 1, level 2, is where most Reiki masters and courses are much the same, with the energy comes from the appreciation I have all your own spiritual, emotional, mental, physical or emotional issues.Meanwhile the parents began to treat conditions or diseases.Anyone can learn the truth is you can take you through the practitioner.Now why not try to get started in Japan, and drawing it in their town.You could also swap services; a massage, a massage table and the right hip.

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What The Bible Says About Reiki

If you would simply like to draw in healing are persons that naturally cancel, charge or neutralize each other and yourself.Having had the eagerness to render assistance.A good teacher-student relationship is critical for proper attunement to be removed.Additionally, you will come to a specific purpose, they were built on the principle that is OK as well.Her muscles would twitch and she said she could not recall even one person will have the similar effect as the Vedas, the sacred name is non-duality.

Then again, even though some therapists may prefer to call someone to become a master now.Are you a feeling of bone deep relaxation.Below we will be taught across great distances.But on the person receive this form of spiritual healing experience quickly and learn to be healed.The Reiki teacher to the spiritual beings that value and quality of life.

[doctor--idiot]

Men of Fortune – Ch. 3

Read ch. 1 and 2. 

A retelling of Uncharted 4 A Thief’s End. [AO3]

Once he had toweled himself dry, he realized he had forgotten to take a fresh set of clothes with him into the bathroom. He didn’t want to have to put his sleep clothes back on, so he grabbed a large towel to wrap around his hips and a smaller one to run through his dripping hair.

“Where’d Sully go?” he inquired from his brother upon re-entering the room and finding the chair by the table empty of the old man’s presence.

“Who knows.” Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, and scribbling something into Nate’s notebook. Nate would have to remember not to put anything too personal in there.

“Still don’t get along with him, do you?” Nate asked as he hunted down some clean underwear among their strewn belongings. Neither he or Sam had ever been particularly tidy and if they were together it was usually just a mess.

Sam raised his eyes from the notebook. “It’s not that. He’s–” He stopped when he took in the huge bruise on Nate’s abdomen. “Hell, Nathan, what happened to you?”

“Told you,” Nate said, suddenly feeling self-conscious and too exposed. He hiked the towel higher. “I broke a ledge when jumping and I kind of hit the side of the building. Not a big deal.”

“Not a–” Sam broke off again and Nate looked down on himself, trying to see if there are more hellish-looking bruises that he had missed in the shower but besides a few smaller ones and some scrapes here and there, there was nothing. Nothing he couldn’t handle or hadn’t had before.

He grabbed his jeans and and a clean white T-shirt. He had never been self-conscious about undressing in front of his brother, or anyone for that matter. Growing up with so many other children around day and night had taken care of that, and while he valued his privacy, it wasn’t a big deal. But right now, he was painfully aware of Sam’s eyes on him and he couldn’t for the life of him say why it was making him so nervous.

He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he tugged the jeans up over his ass and buttoned the fly.

“We should put something on that,” Sam suggested and Nate had already forgotten what they had been talking about.

“What?”

A sharp pain raced through his abdomen before it was gone again. Sam had poked his finger right into the middle of the bruise. “That there.”

Nate slapped his hand away but he wasn’t mad. He cupped his own hip protectively in case Sam was about to attack again like the asshole big brother he was. Sam simply grinned at him but it had a concerned edge to it.

Nate rubbed the aching patch of skin. “I’m good. If you stop poking me, that is.”

Sam grinned, “Sorry,” not sounding it at all. “Hold on, don’t put on your shirt yet.” He fished through the contents of his suitcase, coming up with a small med kit.

Nate raised an eyebrow at him but Sam only shrugged. “After getting out of Panama, I figured it’d be something worth stocking up on.”

“Smart,” Nate commented, then watched as Sam uncapped the small tube of arnica balm and squeezed some of it out onto his fingers.

“Should’a iced it yesterday, idiot.” Sam didn’t look at him as he said it, an aside more than anything else, before he touched his fingers to Nate’s skin, massaging the cream into the blue- and purple-mottled skin. It was a complete turnaround from his his sibling-like prod at it earlier and Nate sucked in a breath at the gentle contact. Sam’s fingers had warmed the balm, heating up the spot he was coating and Nate shivered slightly at the stark difference to the cool room-temperature air on his naked back and shoulders.

Sam stepped away, nudging his arm. “Alright, get dressed. Let’s grab something to eat, I’m hungry.”

Nate’s voice sounded too thin to his own ears when he asked, “What did Sully say?”

“Nothing much. Just not to, and I quote, “lounge around past noon again like the uncivilized hooligans we are.” He’s quite colorful when he wants to be. Anything you wanna see?”

“See?” Nate returned, the word coming out muffled as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

“Sights. I don’t know. We’ve got till tomorrow and it ain’t every day we’re in Italy.”

“Have you forgotten that people might still be looking for us?” Nate smoothed his hair down. “Maybe it’s not the best idea to play tourists.”

Sam’s shoulders sank and he blew out an annoyed breath. “You’re right as always, little brother.”

“I’m right? That’s new.”

Sam snorted. “You done, princess? I’m starving.”

Rolling his eyes, Nate contemplated whether the Italian climate was mild enough to allow him to leave his jacket behind. “You already said that. Alright, let’s go.”

They found themselves in a cozy street café not far from the hotel in case they were spotted and had to bolt. Nate kept one eye on their surroundings while he ordered coffee and sandwiches and he caught Sam doing the same. Old habits seemed to be dying hard. The waitress was young, had a pretty smile and spoke English without much of an accent. When she had gone, Nate turned to his brother, steepling the tips of his fingers together.

“So–” he began but Sam cut him off.

“Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Nate blinked. “I did that already. I told you about the hunts, about what I’m doing now, Elena… I haven’t heard anything from you. I mean, fifteen years, I–” He made a helpless gesture between them and it coaxed a small smile out of Sam, even if it was a sad one.

“There ain’t much to tell, Nathan. I was in prison, what more do you wanna know?”

“Just that,” Nate said, “Start from the beginning.”

Sam sighed and it sounded weary, almost making Nate sorry for pushing. Almost. The waitress brought their coffee and departed again. Sam’s gaze trailed after her before it flicked back to Nate. Nate couldn’t say why his stomach turned at the sight.

“When I got shot and fell off the roof,” Sam started, scratching his chin, “I blacked out.”

Nate clenched his teeth at the memory. He remembered the terror, the agony, painful like nothing he had ever experienced, as if he had been the one to be shot in the stomach three times instead of his brother. It had ripped through him the moment Sam’s hand had slipped from his and he couldn’t even remember how he and Rafe had gotten out of there alive.

“When I came back around, it was in the courtyard, with lots of goons with guns standing around me while I was bleeding out on the ground. You know,” he gave a laugh but there was no humor in it, “For a while there I wish I had because I knew they’d stick me into a cell to rot for the rest of my life.”

He shook himself, loosening his shoulders, while Nate swallowed. He shook his head. His voice sounded thick when he managed, “I’m really glad you didn’t.”

This time, the smile Sam gave him was a real one, if slightly lopsided. “Yeah. Me too.” He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he burned his lips. “Anyway, so there I was. It was a long healing process and painful as fuck but I knew they wouldn’t let me die. It would have taken the fun out of the punishment, I guess.”

Nate was momentarily stunned how Sam could sound so casual talking about a time that must have been utter torture but then he caught the clench of Sam’s jaw, the slight tremor in his hands, and he nearly breathed a sigh of relief. It meant that his brother was still human, still feeling, still dealing with everything that had happened.

“I blamed myself for it for a long time, you know?” he heard himself say, then bit his lip as if he could take it back like that.

Sam tilted his head at him. “It was never your fault.”

“I know that. Rationally. Still. The therapist called it ‘survivor’s guilt’ or whatever.” Another thing he would have liked to take back. He checked his coffee cup for any kind of truth serum, maybe whiskey.

Sam gave a brief laugh at him squinting into his coffee cup, then sobered quickly. “You had a therapist?”

“Yeah.” Nate shrugged. “Elena thought it would be a good idea. And I guess she was right. It … helped to talk about it. Your death, I mean. Or non-death, whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nate looked into his brother’s pained face. Their sandwiches arrived and for a moment, there was an awkward silence while the waitress put their cutlery down for them and inquired whether she could get them anything else. This time, Sam did not look after her, his eyes fixed on Nate. Nate couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at being the sole focus of his brother’s attention. It was juvenile but it was what it was.

“For what?” he finally asked.

“You thought I was dead for fifteen years. You had a therapist because you thought I was dead.”

Nate cleared his throat, took a bite of his sandwich. “It’s fine,” he muttered while chewing.

Sam only looked at him, regret and amusement hiding in the corners of his mouth.

Nate swallowed. “Don’t flatter yourself too much.”

Sam’s smile grew. “Alright. And I guess you needed a therapist because you were so fine with me dying?”

Nate groaned. “I really shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Sam shook his head, serious again. Nate instantly missed the smile. “I’m not making fun of you, I was just trying to lighten the mood. I can’t–can’t imagine what it was like for you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Sam’s lips curled. “Yeah, well, at least I knew you weren’t dead.”

“Really?” Nate looked down at his plate. All of a sudden, he wasn’t all that hungry anymore. “I mean, you never thought that maybe I’d gotten myself killed on a treasure hunt without you there to look out for me?”

Sam seemed to consider that. “No.”

“Why?”

“You never needed me, Nathan. I looked out for you because I was responsible for you and because I wanted to. I needed to. But you didn’t need me.”

He sounded almost sad saying it and Nate could only shake his head rapidly. “That’s–you’re wrong. I’ve always needed you. Always, Sam.”

There was a short silence between them and it almost made Nate shift on his chair with nervousness. Before it could become awkward, Sam said, “Even now?”

“You’re an idiot if you don’t know that,” Nate returned and Sam laughed. It was filled with mirth and relief and Nate grinned along with him. He picked his sandwich back up.

After they had finished eating, Sam convinced Nate after all to walk through the city for a while and look at the people and the architecture and enjoy the sun, which they wouldn’t get a lot of in Scotland, regardless of whether Sully found the weather to be nice this time of year. Nate still wasn’t convinced that that statement hadn’t been sarcasm.

In turn, Nate urged Sam to at least buy some hats and sunglasses first, because “sure, Nathan, that’s not conspicuous at all.” Nate elbowed him in the side, enjoying the little pained grunt that came from his brother.

It felt almost normal, natural, as if they hadn’t been separated for more than a decade, as if they had always been this comfortable around each other. Nate’s chest ached.

Maybe something showed on his face because Sam asked him, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Nate hurried to say but it sounded so fake to his own ears that he tacked on, “Just thinking about how happy I am that we get to do this. Working together, I mean. Just …. being here.”

He wasn’t entirely sure he was making sense but feelings were so goddamn hard to put into words and from the way Sam bumped his shoulder, he understood.

The day transgressed into the early evening with neither of them noticing. The sun still stood fairly high in the sky but restaurants and cafés were closing around them. Nate had relaxed when no one had watched or followed them all afternoon and now he wasn’t walking as stiffly anymore, strolling down the cobblestone streets next to his brother.

“You up for a beer?” Sam asked him, “I’m sure we can find something like a bar around here.”

He was scanning the buildings along the street before Nate had even agreed so Nate said nothing, just fell into step with Sam when he spotted something that looked like a small pub that was still open with a crowd of people inside. They managed to order a beer each despite the barkeeper’s limited understanding of English. Both Nate and Sam knew Spanish well enough but Italian wasn’t close enough to really strike up a conversation but they made do.

[svubloods]

Imagine your brother Danny not being impressed with your boyfriend Nick

(A/N: For Anon, I hope you and everyone else enjoys! Sorry, it’s late!) 

Imagine Danny not being impressed with your boyfriend Nick

“So why weren’t you this nervous to meet my other older brother, or my grandfather or my father for that matter?” You inquired, sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine as Nick emerged from you bathroom after spending a good hour getting ready for dinner.

“Because I want to impress him,” He replied, smoothing out his pants.

“And you didn’t want to impress my Dad?” You countered.

“No, of course, I did and I think I did impress him…?” He began to explain but paused to ask.

“You’re good,” You confirmed, flashing him a quick comforting smile.

“But Danny unlike your Dad won’t have any problems with hanging me off a roof if he doesn’t like me,” He explained.

“Pretty sure that was Steve McGarrett and not Danny,” You corrected before pausing to think about it to make sure you weren’t forgetting, “But then again he may have done it and not told me but usually he tells me when he does that sort of stuff so I don’t think you should worry.”

“You fill me with so much confidence, Y/N,” He stated bluntly in an unimpressed sarcastic monotone.

“Don’t worry Nick. I’ll protect you,” You chuckled, tossing your magazine and getting up and smoothing out your own dress, “He’ll have to get through me first.”

“Once again so much confidence,” He sighed, walking towards the door.

“Hey,” You protested, “I’ve saved your ass lots of times.”

“Sure you have,” He said sarcastically.

“You’re only lying to yourself,” You commented, holding your arms across your chest and narrowing your eyes at him.

“I just agreed with you,” He defended.

“You were being sarcastic,” You pointed out.

“Well, you’re always sarcastic so I thought why not give it whirl,” He countered with a large over exaggerated grin.

So defensive and I didn’t even mention the amount of time I’ve kicked your ass,” You commented, off-handedly as if he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“That’s because you didn’t give me any warning,” He played off as you grabbed your bag and he opened the door.

“Was ‘go’ not enough of a warning for you?” You countered, puling face.

He pulled a face, “Can you just?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll lay off you because you’re so nervous,” You gave in before leaning in and giving him a brief kiss, playing with his tie as you did but once you broke away you said, “Though piece of advice you may want to put on some chapstick before you spend all night kissing Danny’s ass. You’re a bit dry,”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“And I’m done,” You grinned, “Let’s get moving. Danny doesn’t like it when his dates are late,”

With only a sigh as a response, you walked out the door first. He wanted for you to go ahead before slapping your ass in retaliation and to get you to move faster as he shut the door and headed down alongside you. You swatted at him playfully before your hands entwined as you headed down to his car so you could to the restaurant where Danny and Linda for that matter were waiting for you.

It was strange seeing Nick so nervous for something. He was such a suave and confident guy seeing him nervous was just so strange to you. He was definitely nervous to meet your Dad for the first time a couple of weeks ago but you think the fact that he had met everyone else there beforehand calmed him down. As he had some people on side, particularly Erin, Nicky, and Linda but you won’t lie and say Jamie didn’t have a positive affliction for him either. So that definitely helped with the nerves. Plus though intimidating your Dad is a very calm and collected person he judges on character and ultimately you knew Nick fundamentally was a good person so you didn’t worry too much about it.

Danny on the other hand you knew was going to be a different story. Danny was more impulsive, some say aggressive you say deeply passionate but no one could deny he was an incredible cop, one of the best. Though you like to say he is an even better brother. You and Danny were really close despite the fifteen year age gap between the two of you. You’re really close with all your siblings of course but you had a special relationship with Danny. He was like your best friend, brother and a second father all rolled into one. You were the baby of the family and he treated you as such. It was the same with Erin and Joe who are and were twelve and ten years older than you respectively.

It was just different with Danny though. When you were born Danny was around fifteen years old and was going through a really tough time. He was just lost and like a lot of kids was confused about where his life was going. It was just worst because Danny’s fiery personality meant he was just getting into trouble. And then your Mom went into labor a month early and Danny was the only one there because he had been suspended from school. He drove her to the hospital after only one driving lesson and stayed with her until your Dad got there. He was the first family member besides your parents to hold you. Your Mom told you that be burst into tears at the sight of you but Danny always forgets that part when he tells the story.

And after that, he cleaned up his act. Joined the force and the Marines respectively when of age and got together Linda. He says that holding you for the first time made him realizes that there was more to life than screwing up. Real fulfillment came from the ones you love. He said that you were so small that day and the world was so big and he just had to do his part to make it better for you. So you shared a special bond. You think that he found it easier to talk to you and tell you things because he knew that you wouldn’t judge him. And you did talk a lot.  When he confessed to you about the PTSD and stuff you went to Linda and you Dad to get help for him. You like always were a little more reserved but if you were going to confess something it would be to Danny.

Danny was very important to you and you think because nick knew this was why he was so nervous. And if you were being honest you were a little too despite your cool and playful demeanor before.

When you introduced Nick to you family that was the first time you had ever done it. Introduce a guy to your family. Which consequently also meant this was the first time you were introducing a guy to Danny. And you really wanted Danny to like him. You were hoping that he would meet him at the same time as your Dad but Danny was suddenly taken out of town so he missed it. Nick, unlike your other family members, had never met Danny before. Just heard horror stories which are another reason why he was so nervous. So Danny had suggested that the three of you have dinner which you knew for Danny was just code for ‘I’ll interrogate him and you can eat dinner while I do it’ so you convinced Linda to come along as a protective barrier and as a comfort blanket for Nick. It would be less intimidating.

You and Nick had been dating for around nine months at this point. You had a kept it a secret for quite a while as he had just become your Sergeant which made the fact that you were dating even worse, job-wise, than when you were partners. You and Nick were infamous for bad timing. When you realized you liked him as more than a partner he had just finalized his divorce and clearly wasn’t ready to be an in a relationship. Nick says he realized he was in love with you when he was getting the divorce and while you were in your last relationship.

It wasn’t serious or anything but more serious than any of your other relationships but saying that all that really meant was that lasted longer than three months. You were always a bit weary of long term commitment which is why none of your relationship before Nick surpassed max four months and why none of them ever met your family officially.

You and Danny had discussed your lack of actual relationships a lot. He made you confront things about yourself which you wouldn’t have if he wasn’t there. Like a therapist. A small angry therapist. It was because of that conversation you realized you could accept your more than friends feelings for Nick and eventually tell Nick about how you felt.

You and Nick had been partners for over two years prior to dating, ever since he joined Special Victims back then. You started dating when he became your Sergeant and you got a new partner, Sonny.

Everyone would always you were a couple before you started dating when you were partners. Strangely, though you got much less of that now that you were actually dating. You think it was because you and Nick worked so well together.

You were very different but also very similar. Your whole relationship was formed on originally finding each other the most annoying people on the planet and teasing each other. Sure, it developed a mutual understanding and respect and then a friendship and then a very close relationship but you had assumed that was the limit. He was very by the book and work orientated, he wanted the job done and of course, he had his own temper. While you were much more relaxed when it came to things and rarely got angry but when you did everyone knew it was serious. You encouraged Nick to relax and he kept you in line. You balanced each other out and ultimately made each other better cops. But because of your differences, you never stopped teasing and arguing with each other like a married couple. You made each other laugh and smile, he understood and was willing to listen to your deep ramblings and you could always make him see the bright side of things. You could switch from playful to serious. You just had fun and loved being with each other. Could you really help falling in love, you think it was obvious in hindsight that the two of you were truly made for the other.

So when you finally started dating it truly was one of the nest days of your life. You were just so excited and you had never felt that way in a relationship before. You weren’t scared of hitting all of those big milestones anymore. Though you can admit nine months was a bit long to wait before introducing a guy to you family, But in your defense, you didn’t actually know when the right time was to officially introduce a guy as your boyfriend to you family. You probably would have waited longer if Danny had interrogated it out of you one Sunday lunch in front of everyone. He sensed something was off and he had been for a while but had waited because he had a feeling what it was and wanted to wait and do research.

You had admitted to him privately prior that you were seeing someone a couple of months before to Danny but you didn’t think much of it because you were always dating someone. You didn’t tell him who then but he got out at lunch.

“You’re not really nervous are, you?” You questioned, as you and Nick walked hand in hand still to the doors of the restaurant.

“No, are you?” He countered.

“A little,” You confessed.

“Why are you nervous?” He asked.

“Because if he doesn’t like you we’re over. And I would hate to see this end so soon.” You replied in dead serious tone.

You watched his face change dramatically.

“I’m sorry. I had too,” You giggled.

“I hate you,” He snapped while breathing in relief.

“Come on tough guy,” You giggled, as you pushed him through the door of the bustling restaurant first.

You and Nick had arrived before Danny and Linda so you got seated first. Which was a good thing as you defiantly needed to get Nick to relax a little more before they arrived.

“At least we aren’t late,” You commented, taking a seat as Nick slide in beside you.

“Does he not like it when people are late?” Nick questioned.

“People don’t like it when other people are late,” You quipped, “It’s rude,”

“Why can’t you help me through this stress instead of making it harder,” He asked.

“It’s more fun this way though,” You pouted, tilting your head in his direction.

“Seriously?” He responded.

“I joke through anxiety,” You said, “I know you already know this,”

“I do and I’m curious as to why you are nervous,” He chuckled.

“I really want him to like you as much I do but not really,” You confessed, “I just really want this to go well,”

“And why is that?” He probed, enjoying himself.

“Because I love you,” You stated.

“I wasn’t expecting a serious answer,” He commented.

“Well, you got one,” You smirked.

“I love you too,” He replied before kissing you again before pulling away and saying, “Plus it’s nice to see you worked about something,”

“You like seeing me in distress?” You accused.

“Of course not,” He said, rolling his eyes, “You know sometimes I feel like I’m more into you than you are to me. I mean look at you and then look at me. You could have any guy you wanted,”

“You’re not terrible looking, seen .you know.” You teased.

“I feel so good about myself,” He winked.

“You don’t really think that do you?” You asked.

“Of course I do,” He confirmed, “Like I said look at you. You’re gorgeous,”

“When I have a ton of makeup on like tonight,” You played.

“Even when you don’t have any makeup on. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” He said sincerely, looking into your eyes.

You couldn’t help but blush.

“You’re really selling yourself short,” You insisted, playing with his tie, “I have always thought you were the handsome guy I’ve seen.Definitely the hottest cop I know,”

“It’s not that hard considering you’re related to half the police force,” He quipped which earned a playful hit from you, “You’re still blushing!”

“I can’t help it!” You stated, “You’re being all sweet and stuff, it’s so sickening. I’m embarrassed for you really,”

“You know you’re really cute when you blush,” He commented, biting his lip.

“Aren’t I always cute?” You countered, raising your eyebrows.

Nick rolled his eyes once again, licked his lips before leaning in for another kiss.

“Yeah, we better get all this PDA out the way before Danny comes,” You mentioned as he pulled away yet again.

“Is he not a fan of PDA?” Nick asked.

“Not when it involves his baby sister,” You corrected.

“Such a smartass,” He tutted, leaning back in his seat and looking at you with a smile.

“But you like that don’t you?” You teased.

“One more time?” He pouted.

“Fine,” You gave in, kissing him again.

You had intended for it to be brief. But lets just say the two of you got a little caught up with each other. You and Nick were like that. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other unless you were at work of course. It wasn’t in the way you would think, it wasn’t always sexual. You kissed a lot sure but mostly you just liked being able to grab hold of him whenever you wanted, because finally he was yours. And you just simply loved holding hand. To you it was way more intimate and romantic act than kissing and making out. There was just something about feeling the constant fireworks you felt whenever you touched.

“Ahem,” A voice said which caused the two of you to pull apart and look up..

“Danny. Linda,” You greeted, getting up so you could hug them, “Hi,”

“Hello,” Linda chuckled as you hugged her, “To the both of you,”

“Hi Linda,” Nick said.

“Danny,” You said again with a big smile as you hugged him.

“Y/N,” He said in sickly sweet tone.

“Danny,” You began once again, your arm still around him as you turned to introduce, “This is my boyfriend Nick Amaro,”

“Nice to meet you,” Nick jumped, extending his hand towards Danny.

“I’m sure it is,” Danny responded, taking his hand firmly and shaking it.

You watched Nick hand turn white because of Danny’s tight grip but he looked unfazed. After a brief moment of silence you all sat down. You asked Linda about the boys which handled the conversation side of things for about ten minutes. Throughout you could feel Danny’s gaze on the two of you but mostly on Nick. You and Nick like always were holding hands, it would have been unnatural for you not to. You kept squeezing his hand reassuringly. Everyone ordered quickly and things finally started at that point as soon as the waiter walked away.

“So how did the two of you meet?” Danny asked, suspiciously, eyeing the two of you up.

“On the job,” You stated annoyed because you knew that he knew this, “We were partners,”

“And what are you now?” He asked.

“I’m her Sergeant,” Nick replied.

“Do you sleep with all the detectives under your watch,” He snapped.

“No, pretty sure he doesn’t sleep with Carisi,” You countered.

“Danny,” Linda warned.

“Alright,” He sighed, “Tell me about yourself Nick,”

“Well…” Nick began.

After that point dinner transformed into an interrogation with fancy food and mood lighting. But luckily for you and Nick you think it went well. He was charming throughout, Linda loved him but no too much and you caught Danny slipping up his cold exterior a couple times when he found similarities between himself and Nick.

All and all you were convinced that Danny liked Nick but you had to wait until you were alone to ask him about it. Which happened when Nick left to make a phone call and Linda went to check on the boys at their sleepover.

“So…?” You prompted, as soon as they were out of earshot.

“So what?” He entertained, leaning back and taking a drink.

“Daniel,” You scolded.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked.

“Just tell me what you think,” You pleaded, leaning across the table.

“Why do you care so much about what I think?” He inquired.

“Because you’re my big brother and you’re important to me,” You replied, shaking your head at him in disbelief.

“And you are very important to me,” He smiled sincerely for the first time all evening.

“Your opinion matters to me,” You reiterated.

“What did Dad think about him?” He asked.

“He said as long as I’m happy he’s happy. Nick was a gentlemen and if he hurts me then we’ll see,”  You repeated.

“Yeah I’m feeling the same way but if he hurts you I’m hanging him off the empire state building and letting go,” He smirked, raising his eyebrows.

“You like him,” You beamed.

“He’s alright,” He corrected.

“So you approve?” You asked.

“You don’t need my approval. Never have. Proved that when you dated a criminal in high school,” He reminded.

“He lifted some sunglasses as a bet and how do you know about him?” You informed and then asked.

“I know everything,” He said suspiciously.

“Sorry about that,” Nick smiled, sitting back down, “What did I miss?”

“Just sibling stuff,” Danny responded.

“Then I won’t ask more,” He said, smiling at you.

“Better not,” Danny commented, taking another swig.

The dinner ended after that. You were so excited, it was strange. It was like for the first time since Joe and your Mom, you felt content. There wasn’t this massive piece of your life missing anymore. It was a really good feeling. “That was amazing,” You practically squealed as soon as the door of your apartment closed, “He loved you,”

“Sure did…I mean was…” He fumbled suspiciously, putting his hands in his pockets and tapping his foot nervously.

You turned and looked him up and down, suspiciously, yourself. Nick was never good at hiding his emotions or lying…to you at least…for that matter.

“Why what’s wrong?” You demanded, walking up to him and looking up at him.

“I can’t lie to you,” He began, avoiding your gaze but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Look at me,” You insisted, reaching up for his face, “What happened?”

“He told me to break up with you,” He revealed.

“He what?” You demanded, shocked.

“I couldn’t not tell,” Nick confessed, “He told me that I should ease out of it. You know distance myself from you and then end it,”

“When did he say this?” You asked in disbelief.

“When you were in the restroom with Linda,” He continued, as if he was deeply conflicted about telling you all this.

“I can’t believe he’s done this,” You sniffed, tears filling in your eyes.

“Hey,” Nick comforted, reaching for your face this time, “Are you okay?”

“No,” You stated, wiping them fiercely, “I’m pissed. How could he do this? He told me that he liked you,”

“He did?” Nick questioned, “Why would he say that to you?”

“Throw me off,” You spat, “That bastard,”

“He’s still your brother,” Nick reminded.

“I’m going kill him,” You fumed.

“Y/N, I only told you because I know i can’t do it,” He said.

“Break-up with me?” You filled in.

He nodded, “I know he’s your brother but I’m not going to throw this away because he tells me too, even if he is scary,”

“He’s not that bad,” You insisted, “But I can’t believe he is doing this to me,”

“Y/N, I don’t want to ruin your relationship with your brother. I know how much he means to you,” Nick began.

“But you didn’t ruin Nick,” You interrupted, taking his hands into your and leaning against his body, “He did. He knows how much you mean to me and you were perfect tonight. I can’t believe he would do this,”

“I thought he didn’t know about us,” Nick asked.

“He didn’t but before we got together I would talk to him about you and how much you meant to me without names of course. He was the first person to guess after we started seeing each other that I was dating someone. And I told him all about how much you helped me heal after everything I’ve been though and how you have helped me in ways that I didn’t even know I needed help. You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me. I love you so much,” You explained, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“I love you too,” Nick smiled, gently colliding his forehead with yours, “So much that I can handle him hating me for the rest of my life if it means I get to spend it with you,” 
 “You won’t have too,” You said stepping out of his reach, “I’m going to go talk to him,”

“No Y/N,” Nick began to argue.

“Nick it isn’t about him not liking you. Yeah, it was important to me but I don’t live to make others happy. I spent too much of my life already doing that. I live to make myself happy. I’m going to go talk about him interfering in my life. Telling you to break up with me is too far,” You stated, grabbing your coat and charging of the door.

“Do it tomorrow,” Nick argued.

“Why?” You countered.

“Because you’re angry right now and you need to think about it for a little longer,” He explained.

“When did you become all rational about anger?” You inquired dropping your bag and kicking off shoes and ultimately giving in.

“Second I saw you angry,” He chuckled, “You’re scary,”

“You don’t know the half of it,” You smirked.

“Let’s go to bed,” He suggested, “Might the last night we get too,”

“Not funny,” You commented as you walked past him into the bedroom.

“Just like you then,” He countered.

The next morning you weren’t any less angry despite Nick’s best efforts. It was Friday so you had to go to work and you knew Danny would be as well. But you couldn’t help but seethe about it all day. Nick kept a watchful eye on you to ensure you didn’t escape and release an unholy triad on Danny but to no avail. You slipped out at lunched and stormed down to the 54th precinct.

“What are you…” Danny asked in your direction as you charged into his squadron.

“Interrogation room two…now,” You ordered not even stopping as you left him in your wake.

He quickly obliged, something about your demeanour must have tipped him off. He walked in and took a seat and you slammed the door behind him.

“Hey that wall can’t any more slams,” He commented causally, “I do it too much already,”

“How dare you?” You asked.

“How dare I what?” He countered.

“Don’t give me that Danny!” You stated, “Nick told me what you said to him. You too him to break up with me,”

“He told you that?” Danny countered.

“Of course he did,” You said, “Because Danny he isn’t just going to dump me because my insane older brother tells him to,”

“But isn’t he worried that you might be as crazy as me?” He smirked.

“I’m not kidding Danny,” You spat.

“You’re really angry aren’t you?” He asked, folding his arms and looking up at you.

“Of course I am,” You sighed, “You told the man I love to break up with me,”

“You love him?” He asked.

“Yes, but that isn’t the point,” You sighed once agin getting frustrated, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“What the hell was your man thinking telling you what I said to him,” He said casually.

“Did you think he was just going to dump me because you threatened him?” You interrogated.

“Sort of,” He pouted, “I’m quite scary. When did he tell you what I said?”

“Last night,”

“Why did it take you so long to confront me?” He asked.

“Nick stopped me. He says that there was no point confronting you angry because we’re so close that doing it might ruin our relationship,” You explained, “He told me to wait and calm own a little,”

“Didn’t work,” He commented.

“He tried his best. Kept at the station all day,” You confessed.

“Really?” He questioned, surprised.

“Yeah,” You stated, confused by his reactions, “Why aren’t you defending yourself?”

“For what?” He asked.

“For lying to me or for telling my boyfriend to break up with me,” You reminded.

“Can’t defend the boyfriend part but I can defend the first bit. I didn’t lie,” He stated, “I liked Nick,”

“You did?” You questioned.

“Yeah he was a nice guy,” He clarified, “I think he’s great for you,”

“Then why did you tell him to break up with me?” You interrogated.

“Would you believe me if I said it was for fun?” He joked.

“No,” You stated, unwilling to participate and unimpressed.

“It was a test,” He finally revealed.

“A test?” You countered in disbelief.

“Yeah, a test,” He confirmed before explaining fully his reasoning, “I needed to make sure that he wouldn’t run away at the first sight of trouble. I know how much you like him. I needed to make sure he wouldn’t break your heart because there is a problem. Even a big one like an important family member not liking them.”

“By asking him to break up with me?” You accused.

“I knew he wouldn’t but I needed to make sure,” He elaborated, “And if he did he wouldn’t be worth your time anyway,”

“Why?” You demanded.

“Life is hard Y/N. You need someone despite any repercussions will tell you how it is. He knew how close we are and still told yous something that could potentially end a very important relationship for you. And he did that because he didn’t want to lie and because he really does love you. You clearly are as important to him as he is to you,” He explained sincerely, clearly speaking from a place of concern.

“I can’t believe you,” You commented, annoyed beyond belief at that point.

“I’ve always got your back,” He grinned gleefully, “Even when you don’t think I’m there,”

“I can’t even be mad at you,” You sighed, collapsing into the opposite seat in relief.

“Because you know it came from a good place?” He inquired, cheekily.

“Sure,” You said, rolling you eyes.

“You’re so relaxed now,” Danny observed.

“Now that I know my brother isn’t an insane interfering bastard, I’m sort of at ease,” You gave in, messaging your temple, “But you’re still freaking crazy. Couldn’t you have come up with a better way to test him?”

“But it wouldn’t have been as fun,” He smirked playfully before cackling with laughter.

“I’m going to kill you,” You threatened.

“I’ve lived a long life,” He chuckled.

“Can’t wait to tell Nick about this,” You breathed.

“Was he sacred?” Danny inquired.

“He was sad,” You corrected.

“At what?” He asked.

“The prospect of breaking up with me,” You reminded, as if it was obvious because it obviously was.

“Anyone else would be relieved,” He teased.

“Just for that I’m going to tell him you like him,” You smirked.

“Don’t do that,”

[cheelchan]

sinful reunion, ch. 1 (M)

→ summary: It takes a trip to Jeju Island for you to reconcile with your first love, but you weren’t aware of the repercussions.  → pairing: min yoongi x reader → rating: M → genre/warnings: angst, smut, instances of cheating → word count: 9.1k → next chapter: chapter 2 → a/n: i’d like to thank @blueagust for all the encouragement and help, especially with the smut scene. Thank you so much, Lou!!!

If there was any sort of love that’s bound to hurt and traumatize you, chances are, it was your first love.

However, yours wasn’t of that sort.

If you were to reminisce about your first love, it was something that just didn’t come through because there were external factors. Your family had to move away since your father was reassigned to an overseas branch for work. And so, you had to say good-bye to the pale, young boy, who stole your heart even before you knew what love was at the age of fifteen.

“I’ll write a letter to you everyday. I’ll make sure you’ll never feel like we’ve been separated,” he promised the fifteen-year-old you, who immediately believed and trusted what he promised to do. Because that was what love did to you, it made you stupid, irrational, and just… full of hope. You had to give him credit, though, for following through his promise.

He did write a letter for you. Everyday, you would receive a letter from him. You would wake up early in the morning, waiting for the mailman to give you his letter that detailed everything that happened in school. You would learn about the friends he made in high school, those you haven’t met since you left right after middle school graduation. He would talk about the things that he got into, particularly, rap. In middle school, he was very much into basketball. But, in high school, he got into rap, especially after meeting people who had the same interest as him.

Obviously, you also reciprocated the letters he sent you. You would tell him about the weather in the country your family was staying at that time (since your family had to move to different countries a couple of times.) Then, you would talk to him about the different cultures you were learning from staying in different countries, and the new friends you made. You’d teach him some basic phrases from the language you were learning in school, which made you giggle because he would try to use them in the letters that he wrote to you.

However, everyday became weekly. And then, bi-monthly. And then, monthly. Until, it turned into holiday greetings. And then, the letters completely stopped after three years. Oddly enough, it didn't devastate you as much as you would have thought because you knew that you couldn't blame him for having his own life. In fact, another reason why you weren't devastated was because you also had your new life to live.

You got into college, taking up a degree in Financial Management, something that was natural for you since you had a knack for figures while growing up. You went to college parties, got into different relationships, and met a lot of other people. You also got involved in several advocacies that promoted feminism and anti-discrimination. In short, you were living a different life from what you imagined it would be when you were in middle school back when you were still in staying in Daegu.

"I'll be a doctor," you outright declared as you were staring at the sunset from the rooftop of your school. People weren't allowed to be there, but you could always get away from it since you were with him.

"Well then, I'll be a basketball star then, so that I can be assured that you can just patch me up whenever," he smirked as you turned to the boy beside you, a look of disapproval on your face.

"You need a physical therapist for that. Not a physician."

"Well, does it really matter? As long as I have you beside me, I don't care about the details."

"It doesn't work that way, idiot!"

You smiled as you remembered the distant memory as you breathed in your first breath in Korea in years. When you left when you were fifteen, you never thought that it would take you more than a decade before you would come back. Maybe, because you believed that you would come back right after you graduated high school or college, whichever was more plausible. The fifteen-year-old you wanted to become a doctor at the age of twenty-eight, while married to a hotshot basketball superstar, who loved his wife more than his own basketball shoes.

But, the twenty-eight-year-old you turned out to be a single, consultant of a multi-national consulting firm that usually sent out its consultants to different countries for work, while also allowing them to rest for weeks (depending on your work output and success rate), and that was why you were in Korea right now. You had your own personal free time. Your mother's youngest brother was celebrating his fiftieth birthday and so, he invited your family to the occasion. However, because the other members of your family were busy, you were the only one who could attend the celebration.

You heard your name called as you turned around and saw your younger cousin, who was now a lady on her own right.

"Nayoung!" You greeted her as you crushed her into a hug. It had been years since you last saw her. She was still in grade school when your family left Korea. And now, she was already your height, which somewhat surprised you.

"How are you?" You asked her as you began to push the cart that had your luggage.

"I'm doing well. I'm actually already in my final year in college. How about you? How's aunt and uncle? I haven't heard from them since they called us up last New Year," she asked as the two of you walked towards the train that would bring you to Gimpo Domestic Airport, while you began to narrate to her about how your family was doing, even what your parents were currently up to. 

For some reason, your parents were currently into hiking - something that you never would be able to comprehend. She giggled over the funny stories you told her before you asked her about her life in university. She was taking up Psychology in one of the SKY universities in Seoul, something that made you coo, much to her fluster.

It didn't take long before the train reached Gimpo Airport which was where you were going to take your flight to Jeju, since that was where the party was going to be held. Your uncle decided that holding it in Daegu was too boring, and since your family always had a flare for lavish celebrations, it was natural for him to celebrate it in Jeju. However, Nayoung wasn't going to go with you directly to Jeju since she had to finish some last minute preparations for her father's birthday. She simply insisted that she wanted to bring you to Gimpo, even if you knew that you weren't going to get lost since the two airports were just a few train stations away from each other.

"I'll see you in two days!" You bade her goodbye as she waved at you, while you had your trolley on tow with you. 

The international flight you had was honestly tiring, but when you were booking tickets, you thought that it was going to be a good idea to head directly to Jeju. Fortunately, checking in and boarding the plane in Gimpo was not entirely a big problem since the system was pretty efficient. But, you were just so tired that you decided to sleep as soon as you got inside the plane and sat on your place.

However, you suddenly woke up to the screech of the person sitting beside you. Your eyes bolted open, slightly panicked because of the possible emergency that the plane was subject to, but you realized that nothing was going on and you turned to your seat mate who was engulfed with the book he was reading. The book was a crime-thriller-who-done-it kind of book that never failed to make its readers on the edge of their seats, anticipating the following page. You've already read that book in the past, so you knew how it was going to end.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" Your seatmate apologized as he turned to you, a sheepish look on his face. "I'm sorry. This book's really just so good. So, I couldn't help that squeal for a while there," he explained as you nodded, knowing his situation since you were also  just there a few weeks ago.

"It's okay. It's understandable. I’ve actually read that novel in the past,” you chimed in as his eyes widened, “So, I know that you’re definitely on the edge of your seat at the moment. You’re probably going to be in that situation until you reach the last few pages,” you added, trying to recall the plot of the novel, including the plot twists that made you also shout in the past, just like what happened to the person beside you.

“Well, this writer’s definitely cut out for these stories. Have you read the other works he wrote?” He quipped, closing his book but only after placing a bookmark on the last page he read. 

You gave a slight nod of approval to what he did, especially since you hated it whenever people folded the corner of the page to mark their books. That was why bookmarks existed in the first place!

“Ah,” you scratched your head, “yes, though I haven’t read his works in other genres. I wasn’t sure if they were as good as his works in this genre,” you sheepishly responded as his eyes brightened before he went on a full discussion on the works that the same author wrote. 

Apparently, the author also wrote books on philosophy that this seatmate of yours seemed to love, especially with how he expounded on each topic that only showed his passion for this author. In fact, you partially suspected that he might actually be the author of the books. 

Before you could ask him, though, the airplane had reached its destination. The trip from Gimpo to Seoul was short, after all, since it was just an hour away from each other by air. As if on cue, your seat mate’s phone rang, which he immediately picked up. You decided to not bother him with more questions, since you were also sure that you weren’t going to see him again.

After all, what are the chances that you’ll be seeing your plane seatmate after this flight?

It didn’t take long before your taxi reached the hotel you were supposed to stay as you sighed in relief since you were finally going to be able to rest after the two flights that you took from your home country to Jeju. You had today and the next day to go around Jeju before the party, since you’ve always wanted to visit Jeju since you were young. But, you never had the chance to return to Korea since you were never assigned here. Yet now, you had the chance to go to Jeju and you were going to fulfill this small childhood dream of yours. 

In fact, you even recalled your fifteen-year-old self making a small itinerary for yourself if you ever went to Jeju Island.

“Hallim Park, Jusangjeolli Cliff, Hello Kitty Island, Teddy Bear Museum, and the Da Vinci Museum?” He went through your list, raising an eyebrow, as you grinned and took back the paper from him and placed it back inside your bag for safe-keeping.

“That’s right. Aren’t they the places you should go to when you visit Jeju?” You asked as you heard him sigh.

“And who’s going to go with you when you go there?” He asked as you chuckled.

“Nobody. It’s going to be my personal treat to myself when I pass for one of the SKY universities,” you grinned as you heard him snort.

“You think your parents would allow you to go to Jeju by yourself?”

“Well, if they’re going to allow me to go to college in Seoul, then they might, as well, allow me to go to Jeju by myself.”

“I don’t think so. You better find someone to go with you,” he chuckled to himself. “You can always ask me to go with you, if you want,” he motioned to himself with an easygoing smirk as you raised an eyebrow.

“Your idea of a vacation is to stay in bed all day. I know you too well,” you snorted as he tried to retort, but he frowned when he realized that he couldn’t since the two of you knew that you weren’t wrong. You laughed at his expense as he sighed and curled up on the corner of his bed.

You woke up from your dream as you realized that it was already three in the afternoon. It wasn’t that late, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to visit the places you wanted to visit at this time. Fortunately, the Da Vinci museum was right across the hotel you were staying. You decided to take a quick shower before you immediately headed to the museum.

The museum was pretty small and had showcased some of the inventions that the late polymath created in his lifetime. You opted to test some of the inventions that he created, which fascinated you. How was he able to think about these inventions? He obviously was a genius as you tried to turn the lever on one of the replicas of his inventions. However, it didn’t seem to work out the way it was supposed to, even if you were trying to turn it with a lot of force. Did you break it? Your eyes widened at the realization as you swallowed the growing lump on your throat, wondering how you were going to fix it. How much did you have to pay?

“You’re doing it the wrong way. You’re supposed to turn it the other way around.”

A voice interrupted your thoughts as you turned around and saw a man in a black surgical mask, motioning for you to turn the lever crosswise. You blinked for a moment as you decided to follow his actions on the invention. The lever finally turned and the device was able to do its intended function. You sighed in relief as you released the lever and decided to go on to the next inventions. 

For some reason, the other man seemed to follow you, though you didn’t seem to mind it since he seemed like he was just another visitor in the museum. Plus, it made sense that he was going to ‘follow’ you since you were also going through each invention by how it was arranged. You went up to the second floor as you checked the painting replicas, noting that the replicas’ sizes were different from the original ones.

“Have you seen the original one?” He asked as you nodded.

“I’ve been to Florence in the past,” you replied casually.

“Is this your first time in Jeju?”

You nodded back, since there was nothing wrong with answering the question. The man chuckled in response as you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, quite surprised of his reaction. There wasn’t anything fascinating or funny with your response.

“I told you I was going to be here the first time you’ll visit Jeju,” he said before walking away as you blinked your eyes. What was that supposed to mean? Was it actually intended for you? Why was he going to be with you when you first visited Jeju? 

Unless, he was-

“Min Yoongi!” You called him as you rushed to the first floor and saw him by the gift shop, smelling the plastic tangerines that were on display. He was still wearing the black mask that only seemed to emphasize his pale, white face, because of its contrasting colors. He turned to you, the memories of your first love quickly breezing through your mind as you walked towards him, his height slightly taller than yours, compared to the last time the two of you saw each other.

“Do I know you?” He asked playfully as you frowned and turned away from him to leave, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards his direction. You ended up falling towards him, but his chest was firm enough to cushion your fall. “Is this really how you’ll greet me the first time we saw each other after more than a decade? Still clumsy, as ever,” he mockingly clicked his tongue twice, releasing his grip on your wrist as you rolled your eyes and steadied yourself.

“‘Do I know you?’ Are those really the first words you’ll say to me?” You frowned towards him as he shook his head.

“I’m pretty sure the first words I told you was around the likes of ‘you were turning it the wrong way’,” he retorted as your eyes rolled back to your head once again at his sarcastic remark.

“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t changed?”

He snorted as he measured your height with his hand and compared it with his. “You were saying?” You could see the grin behind his mask. The last time you saw each other, you were actually taller than him.

“Someone’s so insecure with his height, it makes me wonder if someone’s trying to make up for something else.”

“You’d be surprised.”

You broke into a coughing spell as he chuckled at your expense. You glared at him as he nonchalantly started to walk away. He was already by the exit of the building when you heard him call your name, motioning for you to follow him. 

“You haven’t gone around Jeju, right? I haven’t gone around, too. Come on,” he coaxed as he clicked on his smart key, walking towards his car, while you hesitatingly followed him, opening the door to the passenger seat.

“How sure am I that I’m not going to end up sleeping with the fishes?” You quizzed him, skeptical on his offer.

He gave a heavy sigh, scratching his head. "I might, as well, be the one sleeping in my hotel room, but I promised you a decade ago that we were going to Jeju together, and that we were going to go around and fulfill that wish list of yours. And don’t you dare think that I stalked you to find out that you were also in Jeju,” he gave a disapproving look as you bit your lower lip and shook your head.

“Besides, I’d like to think that it’s the heaven’s way of telling me that I ought to fulfill this promise from more than a decade ago. And, well, what’s there to lose, right?” He asked you in a rhetorical manner, a gummy smile on his face. “So, what do you say? Are you with me on this or should I just go back to my hotel room and sleep?”

You were just blinking your eyes in surprise that he actually remembered the list you made from all those years ago. You don’t even remember half of the places you’ve listed, but here he was, telling you that he did, even when you had ceased communication for a decade. Here he was, saying that he was going to fulfill a more-than-a-decade-long promise, even if you never saw each other for more than a decade. 

Here he was, reminding you why he was your first love in the first place.

You gave a teasing smile to his direction. “It would be such a shame if you just went back to your hotel and sleep the rest of the day off, when it’s just five in the afternoon.”

He chuckled at your response as you immediately got inside the passenger seat. He was obviously pleased at your choice as he took out a handwritten list that seemed familiar to you.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, grabbing the list from his hands, “you have this? How do you have this?” You turned to him with a confused look on your face.

He sniffed his nose, putting on his seatbelt, before he turned on the engine. “You are such a clueless person, that sometimes, I wonder how you were able to survive middle school in Daegu,” he casually remarked as he started driving to one of the places on the list.

“Hey!”

“Since the rest are closed already, let’s just go to the cliff and then, do the rest tomorrow,” he quickly changed the topic as you nodded, knowing that the rest of the places you wanted to visit were already closed at this time. 

You turned to him, however, surprised that he had casually invited you the next day. You knew that Yoongi was the type of person who valued his sleep over anything, and the fact that he was also here in Jeju only showed that he was probably on vacation. He was probably working under one of the companies that his family owned, since his family had a conglomerate that was composed of different companies under the mother company. 

However, since Yoongi was the second son of the family, he wasn’t the heir, especially since his older brother had always been groomed to become the CEO, much to the fifteen-year-old Yoongi’s relief. He always used to tell you that his brother was always stuck with different lessons that were required of heirs and heiresses. Fortunately, since he was just the second son (the spare tire, as he would put it), he wasn’t required to take those lessons and thus, he was free to pursue basketball (and then, later rapping) without being pressured to take extra lessons on management or accounting.

The cliff was as breathtaking as the pictures on the blogs showed. Since sunset in Jeju was still at eight in the evening, you were able to enjoy the scenery without having to worry of falling down the cliff or slipping to your death. Behind you, Yoongi took out his camera, taking photos of the view, as well, while you took photos on your phone. After an hour or so, the two of you headed back to his car and went on your way to one of the best seafood restaurants in the area.

“I heard from one of my friends that this is a good restaurant. And trust me that he’s good at this. He’s fond of Korean food, so he knows where the good food is,” he claimed as he parked his car by the entrance of an expensive-looking restaurant. 

You blinked for a moment, unsure on why he would bring you to this kind of restaurant. While you weren’t unused to going to such restaurants, you actually hoped that he would bring you to a more localized kind, somewhere less restricting. “Is there something wrong?” He asked as you scratched your head, unsure on what to tell him.

“I-I want to go somewhere else. Somewhere less formal, I guess? I’m sorry for being so picky, but I feel like I want to go somewhere where I can breathe,” you nervously chuckled, hoping that he would be okay with your choice, but you saw the frown on his face, “but, if you want to stay here, it’s perfectly fine. You don’t have to adjust for me,” you tried to take back your words as he shook his head, starting on the engine again.

“I’m just unsure on where to go, aside from this place. I was just told that this place was good, so I thought you would like it here, but if you prefer somewhere else, it’s fine, as well. After all, it’s supposed to be a fulfillment of a promise,” he noted as you shook your head, your hand clasping his hand that was on the gearstick.

“Yoongi, it was a promise that was already forgotten. So, you don’t have to hold on to it, okay?” He turned to you with a surprised look on his face. “But, if you still want me to go with you around Jeju, I’m still up for it, but please don’t make yourself uncomfortable just because I feel uncomfortable. It should be comfortable for the both of us,” you offered as he smiled to himself, his hand bringing yours to his lips, making you gasp in surprise.

“Ah,” he grinned, “you just make it so easy for me to fall back in love with you,” he teasingly played with you as you rolled your eyes, pulling back your hand from his grasp. “Well then, why don’t we just go to one of those restaurants located nearby and then, let’s just go in there as if we’re locals?” He suggested as you enthusiastically nodded on what he said. He drove away from the expensive-looking restaurant as you kept your eyes open, looking for any nearby restaurants. 

A few minutes later, you spotted a rather rundown restaurant at the side. Yoongi looked at you with a cynical look on his face, but you had urged him to take a leap of faith. He stopped nearby the restaurant as the two of you went down, heading towards the restaurant, pretending to be locals. It turned out that the restaurant that you visited was an old restaurant passed down to different generations, though it was only well-known to locals. You gave an ‘I-told-you-so’ look towards Yoongi as he moaned after sipping the free kimchi soup that was served to your table.

The two of you continued to catch up over dinner as he told you that he didn’t push through with his plans of becoming a basketball star or a rapper (“Being the filial son that I am, I decided to take up Management to support the family.” You snorted in response.) He looked really surprised, however, when you told him that you didn’t end up in medical school, especially with your natural affinity with figures and the sciences (“Somewhere along the way, I ended up taking Financial Management. That’s why I’m working in the consulting field. People pay me to talk to them about their problems. Isn’t that fun?” This time, he was the one who snorted back.)

The night ended as he drove you back to your hotel after dinner. Besides, the two of you had one full day the next day to finish what was left of your bucket list. Frankly speaking, a part of you was still surprised that he still had the list, especially when it was from more than a decade ago. You stared at him as he continued to talk about what the rest of your friends in middle school were doing.

“-and at this point, you’re not listening to me anymore, am I right?” he asked you, a smirk on his face, but his eyes still on the road.

You shook your head. “Of course not. I was listening to you the whole time,” you tried to lie your way through as he laughed.

“Still a lousy liar. What am I going to do with you?” He mused out loud, while you simply shrugged at his comment. The two of you reached the entrance to your hotel as he parked right by the driveway. “Well then, let’s see each other tomorrow. Eight o’clock is eight o’clock, okay, miss?” He reminded you as you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time of the day.

“I know what eight o’clock looks on the clock, Yoongi,” you muttered under your breath as you got outside of the car and closed the door. You waved good-bye at him as he sped away. You simply stared at his car, wondering how it was possible for you to meet Min Yoongi once again after all this time. You remembered how you had said good-bye to him more than a decade ago at the airport, you promising to come back to Korea as soon as it was possible, while him, promising to be the same Min Yoongi you’ve always known.

Unfortunately, it did take more than a decade, but both promises were complied with. And for you, that was what mattered the most.

“We have to revise a few things on your itinerary since it’s raining,” Yoongi pointed out to the heavy rain outside your window as you continued to apply makeup on your face. 

It was already fifteen minutes past nine o’clock, and you told him to go up to your room, instead, since you didn’t want him to wait in the lobby or inside his car.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right? Hallim Park doesn’t seem ideal with this weather,” you relented, though you couldn’t help the pout on your face. The said tourist spot was part of your bucket list, but you knew that the weather was horrible.

“Don’t feel so bad. Besides, at least, we get to go to two places: the Hello Kitty Island and the Teddy Bear Museum,” he grinned as you nodded, finally putting on your lipstick. “Besides, we’re a bit late because someone woke up at eight in the morning.” You pursued your lips together in embarrassment, knowing that you were at fault. 

You accidentally forgot to set your alarm clock since you immediately fell asleep by the time you arrived back to the hotel. In fact, you had greeted Yoongi, wearing your clothes from the night before since you were too tired to change to pajamas before you slept.

“Let’s go now?” He asked as you nodded. He took your hand as the two of you left your room.

The trip to Hello Kitty Island was short since it was pretty close to your hotel. What was surprising, however, was that it was nearly empty, except for a few employees and a few kids. Yet, you surmised that it shouldn’t be surprising since it was a weekday and it was only morning. What was funny, however, was the contrast between the atmosphere and Yoongi, in particular.

The exhibition hall was painted pink, decorated with Hello Kitty items that you knew you would have wanted to collect as a child. On the other hand, Min Yoongi was wearing dark, neutral colors. He was wearing a gray turtleneck sweatshirt, paired up with black khaki pants, and a black long coat. You grinned to yourself as you tried to sneak a photo of him, surrounded by pink decorations and furniture.

“What are you doing?” He asked, obviously noticing you.

So much for trying to be discreet.

“I’m taking photos,” you responded back, turning around from him, while he went closer to you, trying to grab your phone. But, you had already locked it before he could see the photo you took of him.

“Did you take a photo of me?” He quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, Min Yoongi,” you interjected as you took your phone away from him, before walking away to take a photo of the cute Hello Kitty doll on display.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he murmured as he casually stood beside you. “I also did the same, to be fair.” You turned to him with a surprised look on your face as you felt your cheeks warm up from his admission. 

Did he just say that he also took photos of you? 

“I look good in some of the photos I took of myself,” he smirked to himself as you rolled your eyes.

This smug asshole.

You felt your phone vibrate as you took out your phone and realized that it was a notification from your Mail app. You received an email from your boss, probably a notice to inform you of your next client when you go back to work the following week.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi asked as you turned up to him, closing your phone and shaking your head in response.

“Nothing. It’s just my work. Where are we supposed to go now?” You asked him as the two of you exited the building. You decided to eat lunch in a nearby restaurant before the two of you proceeded to the Teddy Bear Museum.

The museum had a few floors that displayed teddy bears in different costumes. In fact, there were even some that tried to depict several historical events and famous people. But what surprised you was that there was a display that tried to showcase a fashion show, where the teddy bears were actually moving, as if they were really parading on the stage.

"This is so cute!" You turned to Yoongi with a grin on your face, pointing to the display. He crooked an eyebrow upwards as he raised his camera and nonchalantly took a photo of you.

"This is cute," he piped in, showing to you the photo of you that he just took, before he walked away as if nothing happened. You blushed in embarrassment as you turned to his walking figure. 

Was he actually flirting with you?

"Min Yoongi," you called out to him as he turned to you, a gentle look on his face.

"Stop overthinking," he breathed out as he walked back to you.

"I'm not!"

"Stop lying," he clicked his tongue, "I know you well enough. Nothing much has changed since we first met. We'll always be the same people from a decade ago," he reminded you as you blinked your eyes. Did he say that to tell you to stop lying or was it some sort of reassurance?

"I was just-" "Come on. Let's go. I'm craving for black pork. I've seen some pictures before I went to your hotel," he cut you off before pulling your hand into his. He started walking towards the parking lot as you could only stare at his walking figure, while you tried to match up with his pace. Your heart was beating fast from his sudden action, your stomach filled with butterflies that you couldn't even eat properly, even if Jeju black pork tasted a lot juicier compared to the usual pork. 

You continuously spaced out the whole time, trying to memorize the details of his face, as if you were going to lose him after today. Well, you were. He did say that he wasn't going to be around anymore the next day and that's why he wasn't going to your uncle's celebration (he was actually invited since he was a family friend.) You wondered when was the next time you were ever going to see him again. Seeing him was going to be difficult since you didn't live in Korea anymore. In fact, you were even leaving Korea the following week.

"You've been spacing out the whole time. Are you bored with me already?" Yoongi scoffed as he parked outside your hotel. You didn't even notice that you had already arrived.

"I-I wasn't bored," you replied, swallowing the lump on your throat. "I was just thinking the whole time."

"About what?" He quipped, a look of curiosity showing on him.

"I know that I'm never going to see you again. I probably wouldn't even have the chance to see you, but I know that my feelings for you from a decade ago are all coming back again. And I'm just torn on how I'm going to have to say good-bye to you again," you confessed, a sad smile appearing on your face, "I hate saying good-bye, Yoongi, especially to you." You felt your tears stream down your face as you let out each word. You knew it was going to be the last time you’ll ever going to see him. 

The following week, you were going back to your reality, a reality without Yoongi in it.

"Then, don't say good-bye."

You turned to him, only to be surprised when he grabbed the sides of your face to pull you into a kiss. You closed your eyes, trying to savor the kiss, knowing that there wasn't going to be a repeat of this kiss. He deepened the kiss, coaxing your lips to open against his tongue as you felt your tears stream down your face. You were never going to see him again. You were never going to end up with him. This was how everything between the two of you was going to end.

"This isn't enough," he mumbled, pulling away from you. You could only pant from the mixture of the emotions you were feeling. You felt the euphoric sensation that kissing Yoongi gave you, but you also were aware by the impending heartbreak you were going to feel whether you liked it or not. You gave him a nod as you motioned for him to go up to your room with you. His eyes widened for a moment, but he gave in as he saw the look on your eyes. He knew the emotions you were feeling at the moment and he understood them, feeling the same exact way you did. 

"Let's go then."

The walk to your room was making your heart beat fast, but Yoongi's grip on your hand made you feel that everything was going to be okay and that the two of you needed no one else, but just each other. Your mouths immediately crashed against each other as the two of you entered your room and locked the door. You immediately stripped him of his coat, him taking off the light cardigan you were wearing.

"Someone's very excited," he murmured in between kisses as you laughed and pulled him closer against you. You kissed him yet again, tracing his chest with your finger as he wrapped his arm around your waist, only to carry you.

"Yoongi!" You cried out loud, surprised by his sudden action as he dropped you on your bed. "You idiot!"

He laughed as he took off his top before crawling on top of you. "Yes, I guess I am an idiot. An idiot for you," he admitted, a sad smile on his face. You had a feeling you knew why. "Now, take everything off, sweetie. I feel like I'm even more of an idiot for being so naked right now," he coerced you, breaking the sad atmosphere between the two of you, as you tried not to roll your eyes. You took off the summer dress you were wearing, while he stared at you as if he was in awe at the sight of you nearly naked against him.

"I guess being an idiot was worth it," he smirked, while you took off your bra. He engulfed your lips with his yet again as you moaned into the kiss, feeling his tongue against yours. His lips slowly trailed off your lips, landing on your neck before he proceeded to suck a sensitive portion of your neck. He started to cup your breasts with his hands, his fingers playing with your nipples, making you moan from the sudden contact. It was as if he knew every nook of your body, even if this was your first time together. And while you may have had other relationships in the past, Yoongi was the only person who could make you feel this way during your first time around.

"You sound like you're feeling so great, baby," he murmured against your neck. "Are you?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you whimpered against him, feeling yourself get wet with each passing second. You buck against his hips as you felt something harden against you. "I don't think I'm the only one, though," you chuckled back as you decided to grasp his hardening length, making him groan from your sudden touch.

"Don't make me cum prematurely. You'll be regretting it later," Yoongi muttered against your neck before pulling up, a look of satisfaction on his face when he saw the marks he made on your neck. They were probably going to be hard to cover the following day, but hopefully, nothing your trusty concealer wouldn't be able to remedy.

"Lack of experience, Min Yoongi?" You teased him.

"Or maybe it's just because I'm with you right now," he suggested, his eyes staring deep inside you before you felt his fingers make their way down your panties. You felt the slight tug as he took them off, before you heard a chuckle of amusement. 

"You seem excited right now, sweetheart," he decided to tease you. 

'Seem' was an understatement. You were definitely drenched right now, even when he had yet to touch your pussy.

"Maybe, it's because of the person I'm with right now," you shot back his earlier words as he laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Touché."

You were surprised, however, when he decided to scoot down, only for his face to be in front of your pussy, making you blush from the sight that he was seeing all of you right now and then.

"Yoongi! What are you doing?" You asked him, but he decided to pull up your legs against his shoulders before he dived his face right in between your legs. "Stop this instant!" You were getting alarmed by what he was about to do.

"Never had your pussy eaten, sweetheart?" He asked, looking above to you. You didn't want to admit that he looked so hot with his face in between your legs.

"I did, but I never liked it," you resisted shivering from the memory of one of your ex-boyfriends.

"Well, maybe, they were just pretending to eat you out," he said before he turned back to your pussy, his tongue licking his lips as if he was anticipating the taste of your juices. "Let me show you how to properly eat pussy," he offered before you felt his tongue lick your entire slit. You moaned from the sensation as you felt the tip of his tongue flick against your clit.

"Yoongi!"

He smirked as he continued to lick around you, lapping on your juices, before you felt his finger enter inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pumped his finger inside you.

"That's it, baby. Call out my name. Make everyone know that it's me who's making you cum," he growled as you opened your eyes and peeked at him, but you could only mewl when you realized that he was staring at you the whole time, his tongue still generously licking your pussy. He inserted another finger inside you as you cried his name once again, especially with how he scissored his fingers inside you.

"You're so tight, baby. Makes me wonder if someone has ever dicked you down properly," he groaned as you felt your impending climax coming on, but he immediately removed his tongue and fingers outside of you, making you whine in protest. He chuckled lightly as you realized that his hard-on was ever prominent now.

You decided to switch your positions, pulling him down to bed as you sat on top of him. "Let me suck you off fir-" "Save that later. I need to be inside you first," he groaned as you looked up to him and saw the conflicted look on his face. You nodded as you stripped him off his pants and boxer-shorts before rising up just so that your entrance was towering against his length.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked as you nodded. "Good."

You were about to sink yourself under him when you felt his grip on your arm, making you open your eyes. "I've always loved you. I still do. I've never stopped, even if we parted ways," he confessed as you felt your heart warm up from his confession.

"Yoongi, it was always you," you confessed back before he brought his lips crashing against yours before you sank down against his length, making you cry from the sudden stretch of his dick against your walls. "It's been a few months since I broke up with my ex-boyfriend. How about you?" You asked him as he twitched for a moment, probably from how your walls were constricting around him.

"No girlfriend you'll have to worry about," he replied as you gave him the signal to start moving. 

You started to ride him slowly as he pushed himself into you, making you feel him more inside you. You could feel the coil inside you being stretched yet again as you held on against him, knowing that you were about to lose control, especially with how he's sucking on your breast, while tweaking your other nipple with his fingers. You couldn't handle the sensations you were feeling at that moment.

"Yoongi, I'm about to cum," you moaned as his lips brushed against yours before fully engulfing them once again. 

You were quick to reciprocate his kisses as you felt yourself getting shattered, reaching your release as he lost control over himself, pumping into you in loose patterns before releasing inside you, groaning into your kiss before breaking off the kiss. The two of you panted against each other as you rested your forehead against his chest. He pulled you off against him as he laid you down on the bed for you to be able to rest. Slowly, he stood up, going inside the bathroom, before coming back with a wet cloth.

"Here, let me clean you up," he offered as you sat up and cling on to him instead, wrapping your arms around his neck. He didn't complain, however, even if he had a hard time cleaning you up because you were latched on to him. You casually yawned as he smiled and laid you back to bed. "Your sleeping pattern's still obviously screwed up. You should rest," he suggested, standing up to return the cloth back to the bathroom.

"Are you leaving now?" You asked quietly, afraid of the answer he was going to give you. 

Was this how things were going to end between the two of you? Were the two of you just going to fuck and then, he’ll leave you since there’s nothing left to do anymore? You braced yourself from his answer as you felt the bed sink.

He returned back to bed, slipping beside you. "Well, I think there's still space for me right now," he smiled, patting the space he was lying on. You smiled and nodded, deciding to wrap your arms around his figure before you felt your consciousness slipping away.

At least, you wouldn't have to sleep alone, even if you knew that he was going to be gone when morning came.

"Good night."

The morning after, he was really gone just like you had expected. In fact, you wouldn't have believed that something happened the night before if you didn't wake up in your birthday suit. He left a note on your bedside table as you slowly read its contents:

Everything I told you the whole time was true. I've always loved you, even if we never saw each other for more than a decade. Nobody ever came close to you. Thank you for giving me so much. 

I'm wishing you all the best.

- MYG

You folded the note neatly as you felt tears about to fall down on your cheeks before you sniffed your nose and stopping yourself, remembering that you had a birthday celebration to attend later. You smiled to yourself as you placed the letter inside your bag and decided to start getting ready, especially since it was already nearing noontime and your cousin was about to arrive anytime soon. It took three hours for Nayoung to arrive and by then, you had already covered all marks with your concealer, except that you almost consumed the tube of concealer you brought along with you. You knew you had no regrets, though.

It was probably going to be the last time you’ll ever see him.

You and your cousin went to the venue together since the venue was located in a different hotel. There were no more rooms available by the time you had to book for your accommodation for your stay in Jeju. The taxi ride was a bit short, but it was enough for you to be able to check the email that your boss sent you.

To one of my favorite consultants,

I hope you were able to rest well during your vacation. However, you’re returning to work next week. But then, since you’re already in Korea, you might, as well, be assigned to one of the corporations there. Attached are the documents for the conglomerate you’ll have to oversee and fix. It’s actually a big conglomerate in Korea, but recently, it had problems, despite having a merger with one of its competitors. But, I know you’ll have no problem with it.

Much love,

Manager

"Is that your boyfriend?" Your cousin asked, motioning as you blinked your eyes in surprise. You shook your head, exiting the Mail app on your phone.

"It’s not. It’s actually an email from work. And I actually just broke up with my boyfriend - well, I guess, he’s my ex now, six months ago," you answered curtly, but your mind was instead focused on Yoongi, instead of your ex-boyfriend. 

You and Joonhyung broke up because the two of you had different outlooks for the future - he wanted to transfer to another country, while you maintained that you wanted to stay in the same country or go back to Korea. And just because of that, the two of you thought it was best to break up, despite being together for three years.

"Oh, I thought you would have one already by now. I think most of your friends are already married, actually," your cousin smiled in passing before realizing the implication of her words. "I don't mean that you should be married at this age, but I'm just saying that a lot of your friends are already marri- you know what, I should just shut up," Nayoung concluded with a flustered look on her face before you laughed at the last part of her sentence.

"It's okay, Nayoung. I don't really blame you. I mean, I am already nearing thirty. In fact, my parents, for one, keep on asking me when I'm ever going to get married," you tried to placate her worries as she looked obviously relieved with your reassuring words. The two of you reached the venue as you went down the hotel and started walking to the elevator. "So, who, among my batchmates in middle school, are already married?" You asked her, slightly curious.

"Oh, there's Song Minho, Seo Kangjoon, Bang Minah, Do Kyungsoo, and, oh, there's the other one, I forgot his name," Nayoung frowned, trying to recall one of your batchmates as you chuckled.

"No need to fuss over it, Nayoung. It's okay," you reassured her, pressing on the  elevator button.

"No, I know his name. He even used to visit you a lot," she said as you paused on your actions, wondering if there was any person who used to visit you a lot.

Well, there was one person.

"Ah, I can't remember his name, but you know, pale-looking guy? Was into basketball when you were in middle school? A bit lanky back then?"

The elevator arrived as you heard a sound that signaled the elevator door opening.

"It's him!" Your cousin whispered, motioning to the person exiting the elevator, as you finally realized the person who she was referring to.

It was him.

Min Yoongi.

And he was holding hands with a woman who seemed to be around your age.

"That's his wife with him, by the way," your cousin added.

You felt trapped and unable to breathe as you felt your knees weaken upon the realization of what you have done the night prior. You heard your cousin call your name to get inside as she was holding the door for you. You could see with your peripheral vision that Yoongi noticed you after your cousin called your name. You could barely walk into the elevator as you passed by him and his wife before you immediately pressed the button to close the elevator, not bothering to greet him or confront him. 

At this point, you just wanted to run away.

"Are you okay? You look so pale," your cousin asked you as you gave a slight nod and pressed the button to where the party was going to be held. Your cousin decided to fill you in on the marriage lives of your batchmates, while you were in the elevator. However, you hardly paid attention to what she was saying since you were so struck with what you just found out.

Min Yoongi was married after all this time. 

You actually slept with a married man and made him cheat on his wife.

You clenched your eyes, feeling an impending headache as the elevator finally reached the floor, just in time before Nayoung could go on about Yoongi's marriage life and how he met his current wife. You decided to excuse yourself to the restroom, asking her to go inside the party hall first. She nodded as you immediately tried to look for the restroom, only to be surprised when you were pulled into the fire exit by a panting Min Yoongi.

It was clear that he ran up the stairs, instead of using the elevator.

"Let me explain," he pled as you folded your arms against each other.

"What do you have to explain, Yoongi?"

"Everything I said last night was true," he insisted.

"I don't care about what you told me last night, Yoongi," you saw him flinch to what you said, even if you knew that he was referring to the note he left you this morning, but, at this point, you didn't care. "I need you to answer me just one thing. Just one thing," you took a deep breath as you turned to him with a serious look on your face.

"Are you actually married to someone else?"

A part of you hoped that what Nayoung said wasn’t true. A part of you hoped that what she said was just a mistake. A part of you actually hoped that the woman you saw him holding hands with was just a relative. A part of you hoped that the world wouldn’t crash on you right there and then. A part of you hoped that he wouldn’t confirm your worst fear. But, the words that he would say would break all your hopes.

“Yes, I’m married.”

Because right there and then, you finally realized that it was true, after all.

That if there was any sort of love that’s bound to hurt and traumatize you, chances are, it was your first love.

It was true, after all.

[myaekingheart]

Let's Take a Moment to Talk about Eating Disorders

This is the only thing that's been running in the back of my mind for days, weeks, maybe even months so I think it's time I sat down and really talked about this for a second. First off, I really hate myself. Let's just get that out of the way. If I didn't, I probably wouldn't be putting myself through so much torture. Not that I can even control much of this. The issue is that I know I have an eating disorder, but I just don't know what the fuck it is. I feel like eating disorders are very hit-or-miss in the diagnosis department. There's a handful of really well-researched and apparently common ones and then anything that doesn't fit the bill gets tossed into a junk drawer full of wide spectrum scenarios. I am one of those people in the junk drawer. I don't fit into any of the other boxes. I am an outlier, an unusual suspect. Of all the cases in which I am the strange, uncategorized lowlife, I never thought that the same would apply to eating disorders, as well.

Should I see a doctor or a therapist or something for all of this? Probably. Will I ever? I guess we'll see what happens. The thought of sitting in a room with a stranger going over all of this just comes off as unnerving and intimidating. Granted, not that spewing all of this nonsense out onto the internet is any better. At least here, I'm not guaranteed anyone will listen. I can tell you all I'm carrying the child of a one-eyed alien and you'd all probably go about your business as normal. But in a doctor's office, that's another story.  They're staring at you taking notes on everything you're saying and the worst part is that you're shelling out tons of cash for them to do so. Then they'll look over everything they wrote down and overanalyze you, diagnose you with fifteen million different problems, and hand you a prescription and send you on your way. Probably. I've never done this sort of thing before so I wouldn't know, but that's how I assume it happens. Either that or it turns into a commitment where you're obligated to return once a week to chat about your problems and your pseudo progress. What a waste of time. Just like this entire paragraph.

Anyways, back to the important shit: the whole reason I'm even typing out all of this crap at 8am on a Wednesday. I have some unidentified problem and I don't know how to fix it. I've always had problems but I feel like more recently, they've only gotten worse and that scares me. When I was a kid, I had some mild eating issues but I don't ever remember it being anything too drastic. My earliest memory of disordered eating was when I was about three. My parents were having some kind of party and all I remember is sitting on the floor in the basement-turned-playroom among all the other kids while a marathon of Mr. Bean tapes was playing on the TV. I specifically remember the one where he meets the queen, the scene in which he's having trouble with his fly and has his finger sticking out of it to look as if he's whipped his dick out. Lovely to think that Rowan Atkinson gave me just the slightest first glimpse into understanding male genitalia. But anyways, I don't remember what exactly happened at this party to make me do this but somehow I must've spiralled into panic and that manifested itself in a refusal to eat. I went almost a full 24 hours without eating, if I remember correctly, and was fixed only when my mom whipped out a vintage Fisher Price nurse we fondly called Nurse Peggy who convinced me to nibble on some Ritz crackers. I don't have too many other wildly vivid memories of Nurse Peggy but according to my parents, she needed to be whipped out A LOT. I guess I was just one of those kids who didn't like to eat, or was a wildly picky eater. I remember panicking one time because my mom made tuna noodle casserole, one of my favorites, but there was a dark piece of mushroom in it that I swore was the missing leg off one of my little plastic ladybugs and it terrified the fuck out of me. But yeah, so this shit has evidently been going on for quite some time.

Ironically enough, around the same time this eating bullshit started, so did my anxiety. My very first panic attack had to have been when I was about three years old, as well. My mom and I were on ebay looking at a vintage Fisher Price castle when I guess I got so excited that I spiralled into a full-blown anxiety attack. I remember becoming suddenly overwhelmed with a loss of control over my body, shaking and hyperventilating and feeling like I was going to be sick. I have a very distinct memory of my mom tucking me into her bed and calling her own mother in an absolute panic, asking her what the hell she ought to do and being fully ready to drive me to the emergency room if need be. Obviously I calmed down after a while but it was the most terrifying experience of my young life. Little did I know that it was only the first of many panic attacks. Probably about ten or so years ago, I was officially diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. In fifth grade, I was having panic attacks every single night to the point where it became disgustingly routine. My doctor took what I told her into consideration, diagnosed me, and prescribed me some anti-anxiety meds. They didn't last very long. Sure, they made me feel great but all I could think about was what my doctor told me about there being a high risk of addiction. I've never been one for medications for that exact reason (when I was little, during Red Ribbon Week one year we were literally given a coloring page about how you shouldn't take medicine if you don't need it and that doing so can kill you-- I distinctly remember it was two panels of two kids in a bathroom and I'm pretty sure there was a medicine cabinet filled with drugs and it was all very Schoolhouse Rock-esque in style but carried a very dark and brooding message). That coupled with the fact that the medication gave me some pretty hefty bathroom issues, I gave up on it after a couple of days. I know you shouldn't quit any medication without a doctor's consent but quite frankly, I didn't give a fuck. I wanted off and I wanted off now. Looking back, sometimes I wonder if giving up on those pills was the wrong decision, if I would've been better off if I had continued them all these years. Sometimes I wonder if I needed them more than I was willing to admit. Anxiety has affected and influenced every aspect of my life from irrational panic attacks during college orientation to trichotillomania during times of stress or when I'm insomniatic to, you guessed it, eating disorders.

Sometimes I feel like my brain is a playground and all the disorders going on in my head are small children running rampant together at recess, playing tag and hide and go seek. They all work in conjunction with one another like the cogs of a clock, winding together and grinding together. Anxiety is the queen bee, the line leader, and everything else follows suit in response to it. I pull my hair out sometimes because I'm anxious. I don't sleep because I'm anxious. I don't like high ceilings because they make me anxious. I don't eat because I'm anxious. And if anxiety was to have a little sister, it would be called emetophobia. I've been emetophobic for as long as I can remember, even though for the longest time I didn't have a word for the disorder. It was just that terrible, debilitating fear of throwing up. There was one girl back in first and second grade who used to tease me about it. She'd just sit there at lunch and say puke or barf or vomit and I'd instantly lose my appetite and feel woozy. I wonder if she ever regrets doing that to me. I wonder if she even has any idea the affects that had on me as a kid. Obviously nobody thinks vomiting is pleasant, even those with the more well known eating disorders who induce themselves (I doubt they find the actual act pleasant, regardless of how purging themselves makes them feel) but with me, the hatred and discomfort toward it is so extreme that it-- you guessed it-- gives me panic attacks. This has been perhaps the most recent culprit of my eating issues as of late, this emetophobia. And unfortunately, this isn't the first time something like this has happened.

When I was a kid, during the time I was getting panic attacks every night, one of the big things I feared was vomiting. A few days after my birthday that year, I had eaten a slice of leftover cheesecake at 9:34pm while watching reruns of I Love Lucy and later that night, I violently threw up. I still even remember what it looked like ten years later if that gives you any indication of just how bad this vomit phobia is. The cheesecake tasted like coffee and because of this, I couldn't stand the smell of coffee for a year or two afterward, having massive freakouts when my parents would make their nightly cups and forcing them to spray Febreeze throughout the entire house to try and mask the scent. To this day, the smell of coffee still sends a shiver down my spine. One of the main reasons why I don't drink it. Because of this experience, however (and the fact that almost every time I have vomited, it's been at night), I quickly fell into this vicious cycle of situational restriction. I refused to eat after dark out of the absolute fear that nighttime alone would cause my vomiting. This honestly became incredibly debilitating, and was especially a nuisance when daylight savings time ended and it began to get darker earlier. I'd constantly try and get my family to cater to this irrational fear, begging for dinners as early as 4pm just so I could avoid the possibility of thowing it all up after dark. Eventually, this all somehow petered out and I got back onto a more normal eating schedule but for the longest time, this was a massive problem and I'm terrified to say that I think it may be making a comeback.

The past few months have been pivotal for me. I spent a year straight toiling away in college in order to get my associate's degree as quickly as possible, then literally the very next day after my last final exam, I moved 300 miles away into an apartment with my boyfriend. It's been taking a while to adjust and I still find myself having some troubles even now three months later. In a way, a part of me feels like perhaps I wasn't entirely ready to move out in the first place. I can't drive, I've never had a job. I basically fall behind in every single aspect of adulthood except academically. And even though my boyfriend and I had been planning this months ahead of time and spoke of moving in together very early in our relationship, it still feels like everything moved outrageously fast. Living on my own has been wildly different than living with my parents, as well, both for the good and the bad. The good involves a newfound sense of freedom and the excitement of starting a new life-- one in which my boyfriend and I are not long distance, the beginning of spending the rest of our lives together. The bad, however, includes a chaotic aimlessness, a lack of structure, and crippling reponsibility. In the short few months I've been living on my own, I've found myself spiraling into a series of strange habits that are probably good for my finances but bad for my mental health, and the majority of them revolve around eating. First and foremost is the comeback of the nighttime fears. Because my boyfriend works retail, he works a broad range of hours that can fall anywhere from early morning shifts at 6am to closing shifts where he doesn't come home until almost midnight. This makes our routine very unstable because things change every day. Some nights we'll eat dinner at a solid 7pm and other times, food won't even be a thought until almost one in the morning when he gets home and has taken some time to relax. In a perfect world, this would be great. I always wanted to live aimlessly with zero structure, just eat and sleep whenever I please. Now that I'm here, though, the implications are terrifying. I've been getting panic attacks every single night for the past month or two whenever I eat without fail. But they're not the normal types of panic attacks that involve hyperventilating and full-body trembling and sweaty palms. Instead, these are much quieter and more akin to a persistent fear than anything else. It's a rising in my chest, a lump in my throat, the feeling that I can't swallow or that the food is going to come back up like acid reflux. It's the constant feeling that at any second, my chair is going to tilt back or a giant hand is going to peel the ceiling away or the floor will cave in and an immense gravity wil suck me down to the earth's core. This isn't so much a problem with breakfast or lunch or whatever the fuck you can consider my daytime meals these days. It's only at night when things get heavy and I feel like everything is caving in. Because of this, I feel like I can't eat. Even if I wanted to, even if I'm starving, I physically cannot bring myself to overcome these feelings and just eat. Every time I try, my throat tightens up and I'm seized by this overwhelming sensation of something rising up within me and my body jolts in the same way as when someone sneaks up behind you and touches your shoulder or your back or your arm. I spend my nights hiding this as I glance at my food, shift uncomfortably in my seat, rub the back of my neck or tug on my earlobe or squeeze my foot, constantly chanting over and over again in my head to just breathe, that I'm fine, that I'm not going to be sick. For a while, I just attributed all of this to leftover symptoms of a cold I had a few months back. I had insane postnasal drip which, as an emetophobic, I refused to hock up and spit out so it just stayed in my system building up and circulating and choking me. A part of me is still convinced that's part of the problem. But now I know that it's also so much more than that. It's not just leftover phlegm, it's also anxiety and restriction and absolute fear.

The other big contributing issue here has to do with obsession. Obsession with ingredients, obsession with calories, obsession with body image. This is where the more textbook features of eating disorders come into play. I've always had a love-hate relationship with my body image. I've always been very petite, always the shortest kid in my elementary school classes and I could still fit into size 3T skirts when I was in, like, second grade. At first, it wasn't anything other than just being small. I was still a healthy weight for my height and age, I had some baby fat on me. I looked fine. Second grade, however, was when everything hit the fan. I think at the end of the day, it all boils down to my teacher. I remember her as this chubby woman with gray hair and glasses who kind of reminded me of Ursula from The Little Mermaid. She was the first teacher I ever had who never blatantly praised me. All my other teachers were incredibly kind and nurturing women who saw so much potential in me and made me feel like I was capable of anything. I'm not saying that this is entirely the greatest tactic just because I don't think we should teach our children that they are the best ever and that they can do absolutely anything no matter what (just hang on here, I'm not sadistic, I'm making a very valid point), but I'm not saying that being really tough on them is great either. I firmly believe in teaching our children that they can do whatever they set their minds on given that they work hard. That success is directly influenced by effort but that they can accomplish anything so long as they just work for it. It's a very Tiana-esque method (from The Princess and the Frog). My second grade teacher, however, was one of those really tough women. I always felt like nothing I did was ever good enough for her. I remember getting freaked out after she lectured us on the dangers of plaigiarism and watched us sinisterly as we worked on a classwork assignment about it, then graded us harshly and marked points off if even a snippet of a sentence was exactly like the passage. She also made us use those stupid rubber grips on our pencils that forced us to hold them a certain way and she'd yell at us if we took them off. Now, for some kids I understand that this kind of discipline is good for them but I was not like most kids. I started reading when I was two and always colored inside the lines. In third grade, I found out I was mentally gifted and spent the rest of my elementary school career spending one full day a week doing additional classwork in gifted programs. My mind has a very specific way of working that this bitch was not tolerant to. It was exactly like that quote about how you can't test a fish on it's ability to climb a tree and expect it to do well. No matter what I did, if I didn't do things her way, she wasn't satisfied and that was really detrimental to my self esteem. It was this year that I started really changing for the worst. I lost all my baby fat and became incredibly thin. I was still a super picky eater, restricting myself to things like carrots + dip and chicken nuggets. This was also about the time when I started becoming really moody and disagreeable, which has honestly never changed since. I used to come home from school in a really good mood, like my parents would pick me up and I'd be happy and bubbly and ramble on about my day. Instead, now I was snappy and rude and easily frustrated. School wasn't coming to me as easily as it used to. I'd spend hours staring at one homework page struggling to figure things out and breaking out into tears because I just couldn't grasp it. Granted, this was never an issue with vocabulary  homework, which I excelled at no matter what, but math homework was the devil. My dad and I would get into heated arguments about it because I just could not understand no matter how hard he tried to help me. I'd get angry with him because he'd try to show me the solution in a manner that was different than the way my teacher taught us in class and I was so hellbent on doing everything to cater to the teacher's methods that I would lose my mind if anyone even so much as considered forcing me to do things a different way. Again, this harkens back to that god-awful second grade teacher. This was a recurring thing throughout all of school, even to this day. I have constantly felt obligated to the best in everything I do, whether that's academically or socially or personally. Despite my academic success, socially I've hardly ever been fluent. There was a time as a young kid when I was very outgoing and unfiltered but after years of being bullied and just pushed around, I gradually crawled into my shell to the point where sometimes I can't even fully be myself around my own parents or boyfriend because I get nervous or second guess my decisions, overthinking reponses until it's too late. To everyone else not within my social circle, I'm just really quiet and perhaps a bit intimidating. The resting bitch face is strong with this one. I struggled to retaliate against the harsh words of classmates or the pressures of friends who craved popularity, attempting to force myself into a box in which I did not fit. I was that lanky nerdy kid with the glasses and crooked, oversized teeth who looked like a walking skeleton with pigtails. Sometimes I look back at picture of myself as a kid and wonder how the fuck I didn't even die, I was so goddamn skinny. My childhood best friend came from an Italian family who was very focused on good food. Looking back, it's no wonder I'd sometimes catch her mother glaring at me at the dinner table because I just never fucking ate. I'd take a few bites and then say I was done, then run back off with my friend to play. I don't know how I even had any energy, honestly. I swear I must have been running on empty.

High school, as I remember it, saw a brief intermission in my eating issues. There were a few instances where things were difficult for a time but they weren't anywhere near as monumental as my childhood eating issues, I don't think. Rather, my focus in high school was more on rejecting college, having fun with my friends, and obsessing over boys. Things didn't really hit the fan again until my first year as a full-time college student. As an adult, this is when I began to take things a little more seriously in regards to eating disorders. This was when my IBS started, which has remained a staple in my digestive issues ever since. Everything I ate made me double over in pain on the bathroom floor so I resolved to just not eat. Can't suffer from digestive cramps if you have nothing to digest. This was obviously directly linked to a lot of personal stresses I was facing in my life, what with all the changes that were getting tossed at me left and right. It was a very monumental time filled with a lot of new experiences and fears. I was trying to adjust to the fact that I was actually an adult now and that I'd never step foot in my high school again (which, even though I hated, I had grown rather attached to), never hang out with my friends again (because the majority of them left me), never pass my crush in the hallway ever again (granted, he graduated a year before me and I'm living with him now so that all worked out). The minute winter break started, I caught a nasty cold during which I was sleeping a lot and barely eating. It wasn't until after this that I realized something was seriously wrong with the way I looked. I had always been thin but this was like advanced thin. This was needing a belt on size zero jeans thin. This was dangerously thin. From that point onward, my obsession with my weight and eating habits has been an uphill battle of more adult proportions. I struggled for months afterward to get back on track, to gain the weight back, to push through the crazy intense IBS pains and start really eating again once and for all. It worked for a time and things went relatively well. I got back on track, I started adjusting to college, I got a boyfriend who cares deeply about me. Things were going well. Now, however, is when I feel like I'm slowly slipping off the wagon again.

Because of timing, I spent from August 2016 to August 2017 in school non-stop so I could get my degree and move in with my boyfriend when the lease on his old apartment expired and his roommate moved in with his own girlfriend. I didn't mind doing this. After all, it meant earning my degree quicker and moving in with my boyfriend sooner. A year straight of school wasn't all that awful anyways. Summer courses weren't really anything to write home about, I got through them and then I was done. It was no big deal. Or at least not until finals week. Things started out alright but I was on a massive time crunch. Everything was chaotic, a massive whirlwind. I felt so much pressure to do well, knowing that if I failed any of my tests it would drop my grades and I'd put myself at risk of having to retake classes and essentially ruining everything. I was really hard on myself about academics and added even more stress by procrastinating on packing. A part of me didn't quite register that all of this was really happening in the first place, not until I started moving all of my things into boxes and seeing my room grow barer and barer every day. The peak of the week came the night of my history final. My teacher was incredibly disorganized and let things overflow into the very last day of class so that not only did we have a final to worry about, but we had to wade through an hour and a half of boring presentations beforehand. I was suffering from a rather nasty headache that day, some jaw pain probably caused by a wisdom tooth coming in, so I took what I thought was plain ibuprofen before class. I gulped down two pills and thought I was good to go. What ensued was basically evidence as to why I always reject medication. As it turns out, the pills I took werent't actually ibuprofen but migraine meds with massive amounts of caffeine in them which, as I have recently discovered, I am intolerant to. This would further explain why the coffee flavored cheesecake as a kid sent me into a panic attack and made me puke, why premade brownies are potentially dangerous (my boyfriend and I bought organic brownies from Lucky's Market a few months back that had non-alkalized cocoa powder in them which, surprise surprise, has 4x the caffeine was cocoa powder processed with alkali. I had one fucking miniature brownie and within minutes I was shaking, hyperventilating, and ran to the bathroom on the verge of throwing up. I also realized just today that this also may have been the reason why I vomited a few years back after having eaten a brownie at a Disney resort), etc. I was struggling through the entire night, shaking uncontrollably with sweaty palms. I was dizzy and constantly felt like I was going to puke. I barely made it through my final exam but forced myself to finish because I knew I didn't have time to reschedule. This incident has drastically affected my own eating habits, however. Ever since, I have been wildly obsessed with what's in my food, shying away from sweets and always checking ingredients labels and refusing to drink any soda but Sprite (which, thank the lord, is both delicious and caffeine free). That moment has made me insanely paranoid, though, and a little too mindful (in the bad way) of everything I put into my body. I am so terrified of ever putting myself through something like that ever again that it leads me to restrict even more than normal. The same goes for the way my IBS affects my eating habits, as well. I'm constantly previewing menus for potential restaurants I might end up going to, thinking long and hard about the food I'm going to order. There are certain places where I don't even deviate on the menu, I stick to the same thing every single time I go there no matter what. I am terrified of trying something new and having an adverse reaction to it. With that in mind, I've just come to terms with the fact that restricting just seems easier. None of this is anything new, though. I've been restricting for as long as I can remember. There is, however, one other contributor that is new and that is finances.

Up until now, I have lived under my parents' roof where they paid for everything and I didn't have to worry one bit. They'd let me pick out whatever I wanted in the grocery store and the kitchen was free reign. I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted and that was great. I didn't think about restricting as much back then, except for when it came to IBS. Now, however, things are different. My parents support me financially when it comes to bills and rent but other than that, I am basically on my own using whatever financial aid money I have leftover from my past year of school. I can afford things but I know that until I get a job or start school back up in January and get more financial aid, that that money is what is going to carry me through things like grocery trips and dinners out. It's incredible how much more analytical you become when it's your money that starts being spent on necessary things. Because of this, I've found myself and my relationship with food transforming and probably not for the better. My boyfriend and I are very aimless when it comes to grocery shopping. We don't meal plan, we haven't been couponing, we don't write shopping lists, and we don't seem to make a habit of rationing meat out for multiple meals. We basically just go to the grocery store, grab whatever we want, and hope for the best at the checkout counter. Coming from a home where my parents meticulously plan grocery store trips and buy certain things in bulk, this is a cold shock to me and it's difficult to figure out how to navigate. What I lack in physical lists, I try to make up for in overthinking during the trip itself which then only makes me come off as slow and confused. My boyfriend even described it like I was acting drunk once but it's all because my brain is trying to process so much all at once, like walking into a test after having not studied and never even attended a class. There's a lot going through my head and not a lot of time for me to process it. I don't like doing things this way but I don't know if I even have the motivation to work towards being a more organized shopper. But anyways, because of this our grocery costs tend to rack up pretty quickly which makes me feel guilty and almost uncomfortable since I know we only end up getting a limited number of meals out of that haul. This is where the restricting comes in. Grocery money is always in the back of my mind which essentially translates into this desire to make everything last as long as possible. I greatly ration my food and restrict myself out of the fear of running out and having nothing to eat. I live for leftovers and I make sure I eat just enough at restaurants or during homecooked meals for there to be something to put in the fridge at the end of the night. This doesn't always mean I eat until I'm full, though. Most often times, I'm not that full. Not that I could eat any more even if I wanted to (see a few paragraphs above). This would work great if not for the fact that I'm also obsessed with expiration dates. If something has passed it's expiration date or we have leftovers that have been in the fridge for a while, even if they are actually still good and safe to eat, I will not eat them. I threw out an entire pack of baby carrots the other day because they were one day past the expiration date and they looked dried out and therefore I considered them unsafe to eat. I have never had full-on food poisoning in my life before and I don't ever plan to because it seems my goal in life is to be as delicate and restrictive as possible so as to prevent myself from ever throwing up. If I do, I have failed and will overthink it for the next couple weeks. I get so paranoid every time I get sick that it's going to happen again that I just starve myself because I assume you can't throw up if there's nothing in your stomach (newsflash: you can and I learned that the hard way-- I went almost twenty four hours with barely eating something once and I ended up violently vomiting right before I had plans to go out with my best friend and ever since, I have also been terrified of not eating enough and doing the same exact thing to myself again. So basically, if I eat too much, I'm scared I'll throw up. If I don't eat enough, I'm scared I'll throw up. If I eat anything at all, I'm scared I'm going to throw up. It's real fun). The worst experience of this starvation-after-vomiting thing was in sixth grade. It was the day of a huge standardized test and I was not feeling good at all but I knew I couldn't afford to miss this and my mom refused to let me stay home so I sucked it up, did my best, and went to school. The doors hadn't even opened yet and I was already losing it. Literally a full minute before the teachers opened their doors, I started puking down the entire sixth grade hallway in front of EVERYONE. My friend immediately jumped into action and dragged me to the nurses office as I left a trail of vomit behind me. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life and I will never forget it. After this, I refused to eat for days. I went home, my mom gave me a bath, and I slept on the couch for hours until lunchtime when my mom brought me home a Subway sandwich that I could barely eat without feeling like I was going to be sick again. The day passed in a haze and the next morning, I guess I was looked upon with varying shades of disgust and humor. In a way, I think I kind of unwillingly became some sort of legend at that school because everyone remembers me as the girl who puked down the hallway. The next day was like the big celebration for finishing all of those rigorous standardized tests and as such, my teacher bought donuts for everyone. I love donuts so the normal part of my brain was rejoicing but the traumatized side was in a fetal position in the corner having a panic attack. I did end up grabbing a donut but whether I ate it or not was another story. Sometimes I wonder if deep down everyone in my class knew I had some sort of eating disorder because eating that donut the day after I got sick was like trying to teach a fish how to fly and everyone knew it. Everyone saw I was struggling, everyone knew I had a problem. I don't remember if this was an everyone thing or not but I do distinctly remember the boy sitting next to me was watching me eat and egging me on like I was running a marathon. It almost felt like I was the age I am now and attending a kegger where some frat guy is shouting "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Just like that, it was simultaneously motivating and condescending. I swear, everyone was watching me as I struggled to just eat that goddamn fucking donut. I never did finish it. I think I ate about half before tossing it in the trash and making peace with failure. It all still haunts me to this day, though. Especially because I put myself through the same torture day in and day out with my eating nowadays. I stare at the food on my plate and I can hear the voices in my head screaming at me to down the damn thing, meanwhile inside my digestive tract is a bunch of blaring sirens and flashing lights for absolutely no goddamn reason.

Will any of this ever get better? Who fucking knows. By now, I've come to terms with the fact that this is an endless cycle and that it's something I will have to struggle through and face time and time again for the rest of my life. Do I enjoy that fact? Absolutely fucking not. But is it realistic? Yeah, I think so. I don't know if there's ever such a thing as true eating disorder recovery, or if I'll ever even find out what the fuck kind of disorder this even is. It's hard to try and treat something that's so complex and that also doesn't seem to fit into any of the commonplace categories. Sometimes I wish I had anorexia or bulimia instead solely so I could at least pin a name to this torture. Otherwise, I don't know how to cure what doesn't even have a name. Sometimes I wonder if this even actually is some sort of eating disorder or if it's just the conglomeration of multiple different issues combining into one giant super disorder that's wreaking havoc across my entire wellbeing. I have no goddamn idea but fuck, do I wish I knew. If only I fucking knew.

[babygirlgalitzine]

Dance Dance, We’re Falling Apart

Ao3 Link

It had been three weeks since Robert’s counsellor had suggested him to try a dance class. He had been going to his counselling sessions once a week for just over two months now, and she had suggested that he should go to the local dance class on a Saturday morning to help his mental health. She had given him a leaflet showing all the issues that dance would help: anxiety, depression, PTSD etc. That evening, Robert had read the leaflet in detail, and with a deep breath, he booked his place to start in a few weeks’ time.

Today was Saturday, and most importantly, Robert’s first dance class. To say he was nervous was an understatement; he had never done anything like this before and hoped that he didn’t bump into anyone who recognised him. Robert wasn’t quite sure what he had to wear, so he decided to put on his running shorts and an old baggy tee shirt with trainers that had probably never seen the light of day before.

Aaron had been going to his counsellor for six months, on advice from his family and friends. Except, he hadn’t really seen her. He felt like he didn’t need to go, and if he did, he was just giving in to all the problems people thought he had. He thought she was mad when she suggested for him to go to the local dance class but when he actually looked it up, he thought it seemed okay, just as long as it would sort him out.

He waited an entire week, talking himself out and back in to going to the class, nerves taking over his entire body. ‘How can this help anxiety?’ he thought, ‘It’s just making me more anxious.’  He decided to just suck it up and if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to go again. After putting on his joggers and a lighter hoodie, he grabbed his keys and walked to his car.

Robert stood in the corner of the room, watching on as the class (filled with females) sorted themselves into positions. He felt as though he was the only new person there, so he just followed everyone else’s lead and began trying to look like he knew what he was doing. The door opened as Robert had almost ‘perfected’ his stance, making everyone turn to the back of the room and watch as the dark-haired man clambered in. “Sorry.” He had said in a gruff tone, before walking over to the corner where Robert was stood.

The teacher had talked them through the first couple of steps, throwing a few “chasse’” and “jeté’” into the mix, earning nods from what Robert had assumed to be the returning class members. Aaron leaned forward and tapped Robert on the shoulder, “Oi. Do you have any idea what she’s going on about?” He asked.

Robert smirked and said “Nope. You?”

Aaron’s face said it all. Of course he didn’t understand her. “I’m Aaron.” He announced, before nodding to the blonde man.

“Robert.” He had replied.

Suddenly, the entire class moved to the left, their legs carrying them delicately. The only people who hadn’t moved had been Aaron and Robert, who now stood there completely puzzled.

“Boys! You have to focus! Here, follow me. You lift your left leg up slightly and pop off your right leg to carry you.” The teacher demonstrated.

Robert and Aaron followed her, both of them landing heavily, causing a louder noise than when 20 others did it. They looked at each other, smiling tightly and lifting their brows up.

“Mm, you’ll get there I suppose.” She chastised.

“Great class today! I look forward to seeing you all at the same time next week.” The teacher announced as everyone was either picking up their bags or gulping masses of water. Robert and Aaron were sat on the floor next to each other, Robert’s hair flat against his forehead, sticking to him and Aaron breathing heavily, red in the face.

Neither of them wanted to admit it, but dancing had taken it out of them. Aaron was no stranger to the gym, but the mental side of dance had been as equally as exhausting as the physical attribution. His chest was heaving under the intense workout he had just done, holding some woman up over his head. Robert’s muscles ached having not done exercise on this scale for quite some time. His legs felt like jelly, as though they would give way from underneath him. The teacher had Robert working on stretching his limbs out more, making sure that his toes were pointed on every move.

Aaron stood up first, extending his arm to help lift Robert up. His arms were in agony, but that was okay. He had to admit that the class was actually alright. Obviously there was no miracle cure, but he seemed to have come out his shell just that little bit more. In the past, he would have never offered his hand to anybody, he would just keep them hidden in his pockets, but here he was, practically holding Roberts hand.

“I’ll see you next week?” Robert asked, almost shyly as he stood up fully. Aaron released his hand and just nodded before picking his bag up, trying not to wince at the weight, and walked out of the door.

Although the first class had helped Robert slightly, he knew that it wasn’t going to make him ‘right’ straight away; if ever. He came home exhausted and went straight into the shower to rid himself of the sweat. He thought he was fine, even when he was sat watching the early afternoon TV, but then Victoria came home with a box of Robert’s old things, including photographs. He cautiously opened the book, the bind of it cracking because of its age. The first photo caused him to shut it straight away. He couldn’t look at him, even after all these years. It had been fifteen years and the bruises Robert was physically scared with was still stuck with him mentally. He remembered every last detail; the innocent kiss from the farm hand, Jack walking in and dropping the rope he was holding, the shouting, Robert being dragged away by his collar, Jack striking Robert against his face repeatedly. Every time he was his dads face, he was that scared teenager again, remembering all the traumatic things that had happened in his short life. It had taken him fifteen years to admit that he is bisexual, all because he was scare that he would be beat up again, even after his dad had died. Robert’s bad mental health wasn’t just because of that, no. It also didn’t help that at the age of fourteen, he witnessed his mum being burnt to death. That would stick with him forever. He will never forget the feeling of wanting to run in to save her, but knowing it was too late. He’ll never forget finding out that it was his own brother who did it, who killed their mum.

Aaron led in bed when he got home, his upper body aching. He thought back to his first counselling session, his therapist asking him about his most traumatic ordeal. Aaron didn’t know what to say, it felt too personal even though he had already told a court full of people what his monster of a father did to him. He remembered being eight years old and crying in bed, not being able to move, his entire body paralyzed. He remembered it happening again, and again, until he was sixteen years old and managed to fight his way out of it and run away. He remembered just a few months back, having to open up about one of the worst times in his entire life in front of people he has never met before, waiting for them to make a decision about if he was telling the truth or not.  He remembered his therapist sitting in shock as Aaron talked her through what happened to him, and the shock on her face when he carried on. He talked about how Jackson died. How none of them could stop crying. How he regretted what he did, but knew that he couldn’t see Jackson carry on in the darkness he was in.

They both knew that it would take a lot for their mental health to be better than it had been for years, but they also knew they would never be a hundred percent perfect. After all, who is?

A week had passed since the first class, which meant that it was time for the second one. Robert and Aaron gravitated towards one another yet again, both laughing as they struggled to do even some of the most basic moves. Robert’s muscles ached after the first twenty minutes, the teacher making him do the moves he watched Aaron do last week. His legs felt like jelly, struggling to hold people up at first, but after a few more goes he found his position and could do it easily enough.

It was obvious that the girls admired the two boys in the class, batting their eyelashes at them as they did the ‘manly’ dance moves. At the break of the session, Robert watched on as Aaron was swarmed by girls, one of them actually touching his biceps. He chuckled at Aarons apparent uncomfortableness and walking over to rescue him. Robert seemed to have turned the charm on with Aaron, the girls noticing and walking away embarrassed.

“If only they knew they were barking up the wrong tree.” Aaron said before taking a sip of his water.

“Gay?” Robert asked.

Aaron rolled his eyes and said “Yeah. Not a problem is it?”

Robert’s cheeks flushed darker than they already were, “N-no! I’m bisexual myself!” He stuttered out.

That was the first time Robert had ever come out to someone who was practically a stranger. He didn’t even think before he said it. He knew this was a good thing, but now his nerves were kicking in.  Aaron just nodded in response just before the teacher announced that the session was now resumed.

Six weeks had passed and every Saturday morning, Robert and Aaron continued to go to their dance class. They had learnt different types of dance and both of them could feel themselves becoming mentally better, although they weren’t perfect. Alongside this, Aaron had seen his counsellor on a regular basis, finding it slightly easier to open up to her. He also didn’t realise it at the time, but he mentioned Robert to her more times than necessary, smiling when he did so.

As well as his mental health, Robert could also see his body changing due to the exercise he was doing. Granted, he didn’t have a six pack, but his arms were beginning to become more defined, his chest growing as his abdominals grew tighter. He was in the best shape he had been in for years.

This Saturday morning, the class started a new style of dance. Ballroom. Obviously, the most common thing for them to do would be to partner up with a female, but because they were both heavily outnumbered, they decided to partner up together. It was decided that Robert would lead Aaron, due to him being taller, so he put his right hand on Aaron’s back, while Aarons left hand was placed at the very top of Roberts arm. Their hands met, the second time that had touched like this. Roberts fingertips were ice cold, he had always had poor circulation. Robert left foot moved forward, Aaron’s right leg going back. Their knees bashed against one another because Aaron didn’t move his leg back quick enough, Robert narrowly missing stamping down onto his foot.

“Your backs need to be straighter,” The teacher instructed, “Robert, you need to step forward slower, you may be leading your partner but you aren’t swinging him about.”

They both smiled to each other at that and did the move again, following what they were taught to do. This time they managed it, and carried on, Robert carefully steeping forward, whilst Aaron moved back. They went around in a square shape, turning at every step. It took them a while to get into the swing of things, occasionally bumping along the way but they managed it in the end. The teacher told them to stop and carried on with the lesson, throwing in more complex steps. Aaron and Robert carried on practising with each other, taking this dance routine the most serious they have in all the weeks they had been going. Aaron could feel his back pulling from being completely straight, his neck getting stiff. Their hands had been held together tightly for so long that they were beginning to get clammy but neither of them really cared. It felt natural.

“Robert” Aaron practically whispered as they continued to dance. “Can I get your number?”

Robert’s face almost lit up, a smile creeping across his face. He nodded and their hands finally parted so he could get his phone out, both of them swapping numbers.

A few hours later, when Robert was sat outside his counsellors’ office, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Aaron saying “Date?” Robert smiled at his screen and responded, “Definitely”

They knew they both had a long way to go still, but with the help of counselling, dance and each other, they could definitely do it.

[ironheart-stony]

Novel Length | Stony Fic Recs

Long chaptered fics with delicious slow burn and world building. 

Last updated 4/2/2017. THERE’S MORE LONG FIC RECS - Part 2 IS HERE 

Fics over 50k words.

My Son, My Sun by Wordsplat | T | 70k | superfamily

Just before the events of Iron Man, a baby is left on Tony's doorstep. He wants nothing to do with it at first, but his time in Afghanistan changes his mind and Tony vows to become a better man for his son's sake.

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you by Mizzy | T | 62k | comicbook office!au

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain

The Ghosts of War by scifigrl47 | M | 60k | historical!AU

Steven Rogers never wanted to be king, but he knows his duty, and he does it well. Lord Tony Stark, the king's appointed consort, does his duty as well, even though he'd enjoy his duty more if it actually involved sleeping with the king. As it doesn't, he's just resigned. The war that made Steve king and cost him nearly everything may be over, but a meeting of old enemies might stir up some ghosts none of them are prepared for.

Truth Behind Masks by scifigrl47 | M | 98k | identity porn

Steve Rogers has plenty of friends. He just doesn't know two of them are the same man.

That's just how Tony Stark/Iron Man likes it. Until he comes to regret it.

One More Troubled Soul ♥ by sara_holmes | various | 61k | wintersoldier!steve

And Tony realizes that working out who the Winter Soldier used to be and who he is now are two entirely different things.

Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by Sineala | E | 68k | soulmates!au

Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.

I wanted to fix this (but couldn't stop from tearing it down) by missbecky | E | 50K

A visit from a Reed Richards from a parallel world convinces Tony and Steve that they must do whatever they can to prevent their world from falling into Civil War. They can save the world…but at what cost to themselves?

Like Coming Home by missbecky | M | 75K | universe crossover, 616

After a tragic accident, Steve is given a chance to go back in time and deliver a warning to Tony in the hope of avoiding their fate. Something's gone wrong, though, because this is not his world he's ended up in. And that is definitely not his Tony who's planning to delete his own brain.

Sometimes your second chance isn't at all what you were expecting.

Stay With Me (home is where your mind is.) ♥ by sara_holmes | M | 67k | multiverse

Where Steve doesn’t quite die, ends up stranded in the multiverse and would quite like to know how the hell so many versions of himself ended up sleeping with Tony Stark. Well, that’s going to make things a tad awkward when he gets home.

Relativistic Heat Conduction ♥ by BlossomsintheMist | E | 69k | AOU, H/C

Age of Ultron-based, but not entirely canon compliant. Written for the 2013 Cap-Iron Man Reverse Big Bang. Ultron has attacked, obliterating most of the world's superheroes and resistance in a matter of hours. The remaining heroes band together and share what strength they have to get through it, to survive, and defeat Ultron once and for all. Steve Rogers grieves in the wake of the disaster and the heroes' defeat, and no one knows if he will be able to provide the leadership they need--but Tony Stark isn't about to let him slip away that easily.

If We Never Got This Second Chance ♥ by Pookaseraph | M | 50k | time travel, superfamily

When Tony and Steve’s son from the future, Jake Jensen, arrives at Avenger’s Tower, the two of them are forced to confront some hard truths: Tony that he might not actually become a horrible father, and Steve that he might not be able to set aside his discomfort with sharing a child with another man. When they both get a second chance at a first try at fatherhood, it’s up to the two of them to learn from their own future's past.

His Fate Will Be Unlearned by scifigrl47 | M | 94k | canon divergence

Tony Stark spent his childhood making weapons, filling the hole his father left in the world when he succumbed to alcohol, grief, and his own demons. At the age of fifteen, he ran away from home, and made it as far as MIT before all of his responsibilities caught up to him. Now seventeen, he just wants to finish his degree and escape from everything connected to the Stark name.

Steve Rogers crashed into the icy North Atlantic in the 1940's, sacrificing himself to save the world. He never expected to wake up, and now that he has, he's not sure he's glad. The US Army has other plans for him, but for now, Steve is slowly learning to live life in the 21st century, and taking classes at Boston College. He's beginning to suspect that there is no escape.

Boston College is on the T's Green Line. MIT is on the Red. The two lines meet at the Park Street Station, and so will Steve and Tony.

This time tomorrow (where were we?) by dorcas_gustine | E | 85k | Marvel 616

Tony goes to see Wanda, and suddenly Steve is alive and there are Skrulls! Or maybe Tony is just going crazy. Nothing happens in this fic, until the very end. Seriously. There's a lot of talking, mostly at inopportune moments, Tony's views on the acceptable gifts to give people are slightly different from everyone else's and he spends more time than would seem necessary being (half-)naked. What else is new?

And We Are Giants by CapsicleRogers | M | 68k | pacificrim!au

When Captain Steve Rogers wakes from an injury-induced coma, a lot has changed in the battle against the Kaiju. There are new Jaegers with new pilots, new advances in the study of the beasts, even new rules in the Shatterdome. It’s starting to seem like they’re finally ready to defeat the monsters once and for all, but first Steve must learn to get along with his new team of pilots. Especially the troublesome Tony Stark, who’s proving to be harder to deal with than the Kaiju problem itself.

Upon Waking by Winterstar  | E | 80k | serious injury, PTSD, angst

A story of recovery. In a world without superheroes, Tony Stark, the disinherited son of a billionaire, goes to Afghanistan as an embedded media star, only to be held hostage for months until he’s rescued. During his recovery, his therapist Doctor Bruce Banner prescribes an unusual treatment; volunteer work at a rehab center. He meets an eclectic assembled group including a vet who thinks he’s Thor, a physical therapist who might be a spy, and an all American hero, Steve Rogers. It is Steve Rogers, the soldier in a coma, who captures his interest and, eventually, his heart.

Fics over 100k words

Say When Verse ♥ series (9 works) by ann2who | E | 328k | MCU

A series rewriting MCU verse, beginning with an alternate version of Iron Man 2, in which, instead of Natasha, Steve got assigned to help Tony while the genius was slowly dying of Palladium poisoning. Continues there in unfolding Steve's and Tony's journey through acceptance, trust, and eventually love.

In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury)  ♥ series (7 works) by scifigrl47 | various | 343k | MCU

Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound. The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick.And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Blue Lips, Blue Veins by romanoff | E | 300k | growing up, friends to lovers, slowburn

Tony Stark is Iron Man.

Before that, he was an man with bigger heart than brain. Before that, he was an asshole with a bigger mouth than sense. And before that, he was was a scared little boy. Not that it matters. Stark's always have had iron in their backbone.

Will of Iron, Heart of Glass ♥  series (3 works) | M | 104k | AI!tony

Tony has been held by Stane since his escape from Afghani terrorists, marked dead in the eyes of the world while Stane is free to use his mind, inventions, and company as he sees fit. Tony feels there's nothing he can do and has resigned himself to death to save those he loves. That would be when JARVIS lets Captain America stumble into his old lab.

Steve has been wandering Avengers Mansion in the steps of a ghost, seeing empty spaces, and recurring oddities that mean nothing to anyone but him. He doesn't know who left them, or why the ghost lingers. It isn't even until he enters a dusty lab that things start to fall into place as he meets Anthony, a computer program named for its creator Anthony Stark.

Deep in the Heart of Me ♥ by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar) | E | 257k | modern/non-power!au, ptsd, parent!steve

There were days when the realization that he was someone’s father made Steve's head hurt, but mostly he was grateful that he could trust his instincts, because apparently Peter was what had been missing from his life. Yes, he still had lingering, unresolved issues from his time in the Army, and sure, he had what Bucky annoyingly referred to as a criminally untapped ass, and no life outside of work and Peter, but Steve was okay with how his life had turned out because of trusting his instincts.

Unfortunately, those same instincts had straight up betrayed him by going absolutely haywire upon being exposed to Tony Stark.

A Higher Form of War ♥ by sabrecmc | M | 292k | historical/royalty!au

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don't read (ahem) but with far more gay.

The Captain and His Courtesan by Winterstar | E | 189k | space au

A story of revolution.Captain Steve Rogers is just trying to pay off his debt to SHIELD, carting cargo from the Rim worlds to the Inner Belts in his bucket of bolts ship, the Howling Commando. He keeps a low profile and makes sure his crew is safe and happy. But the universe has a different plan for the once highly decorated Captain of the Honor Guard. The universe drops a Courtesan by the name of Tony Stark into his life. The Captain doesn't like it, but Bucky convinces him that providing transport to the most elusive Courtesan in the Guild could be their ticket to freedom. His crew from the engineer with anger management issues to the pilot who may be a beautiful but deadly assassin wants him to take the commission. What ends up being a simple commission puts his crew in jeopardy and could change all of humanity, because the Courtesan is not really just a pretty face and the Captain of the Honor Guard can fall in love far too easily with a man of conviction - and Tony Stark is a man of conviction.

Newborn series by Ilerre | M | 109k | infidelity, body modification, read all warnings

It all started when they stopped trusting each other.

Power and Paradox by The_Kinky_Pet | E | 221k - WIP | MCU set in BDSM verse

“Billionaire, genius, engineer, philanthropist, submissive.  Yeah, submissive.  Any questions?”

OR

Yet another BDSM-AU.  

The Limitations of Wax ♥ by RayShippouUchiha | M | 175k - WIP | MCU with fem!toni

So Jarvis is the one who pulls her up onto her feet, presses a tool into one hand and a book into the other and tells her to create. Tells her that if the numbers and the shapes and images in her mind hurt so bad then she should build them, should give them form so that they can finally leave her alone.

Jarvis is the one who finally teaches her how to breathe.

Or

Toni Stark grows up with the tale of Icarus swirling in the back of her mind. Instead of taking it as a precautionary tale about hubris and overreaching she decides it's more about the limitations of wax.

Years later when she builds herself wings of her own she makes sure to build them out of better material.

Go Ugly Early by just_another_tinker | E | 156k - WIP | mob!au

He’s The Captain?

This was not good. This was so not good.

There were theories of course, of what The Captain would look like. Most followed the typical Hollywoodesque belief that he was some version of the Godfather, sitting in a dark room with a cigar, commanding his forces with a flick of his wrist. There were even some that even thought that The Captain was not one person, but a whole network of people with eyes and ears everywhere.

The blonde Adonis in front of him was definitely not what Tony was expecting.

Of course, in the end it didn’t matter.

There was a reason no one knew what The Captain looked like.

Because anyone who saw his face never lived to tell the tale.

Sins of Omission by Kiyaar | E | 155k - WIP | dark, torture, skrulls (be warned: this hasn’t been updated since 2013)

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony's a mess, and everything sucks.

In which Tony deals poorly with Steve's death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot.

Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

Indelible ♥ by Penumbren | various | 104k | dimension travel - marvel noir/616

When an experiment goes awry, Tony thinks he may have found an answer to his problems and Steve faces something he's been avoiding for a very long time.

Pulse, Beat, and Measure ♥ by Sineala | E | 134k | hero worship, marvel noir/616

Two men. Two worlds. Life during wartime. 

Holding Out for a Hero ♥ by Wordsplat | T | 100k | medieval au

When Tony was a prince and Steve was his manservant, they were young and reckless and hopelessly in love. But an attack on Tony's life convinces Steve that he can't protect Tony, so he leaves in the dead of night to train until he can. Ten years later, Steve returns to the kingdom a strong and able knight, but his king is both furious and broken-hearted. 

Proof Positive by MegaraNoelle | T | 362k | superfamily, getting together

Tony is no stranger to paternity claims from his female conquests, there's a system in place for them. But when one of the tests actually comes back positive, he makes a rash decision to not tell anyone about it, not even Pepper Potts. All Mary Parker wants is for Tony to spend a little time with their son. Tony has a lot to think about in his life now, how he wants to run his company, how his life is going to change with the arc reactor, and what he's going to do about his son, Peter. Then, the Avengers Initiative pops up, and in waltzes his childhood hero, and enemy, Captain America.

It's All in the Mind (14 works) by inukagome15 | T | 332k | MCU verse mutant!tony

The adventures of Tony as a mutant; how he learned to accept himself and his subsequent growth into his own. Hijinks ensue.